It haunt's me every night 
That Immature primal urge
Ruined my night and for some time, My sight
Unbeknown to all
This broke down my sanity wall. 
 
Now different as a whole , a poorly lit soul
innocence will quickly drain
Prior excitement seems mundane
You stole the light from my world
I am a monster, I am him
And now, You'll fear the grim

Young, pure, little boy
Go away and hide from me
Save yourself from this

Skin so smooth and touchable
Hair disheveled, dark and soft

innocent young boy
run as far as your legs will
Before I catch you

Soft hazel eyes that sparkle
hairless body, arms and legs

youthful small schoolboy
I’m ugly don’t look at me
I am far from pure

Little boy I want to see
See next to me in my bed

The Devil’s got me
I am but his apostle
blasphemous at best

Without restraining, you will
be mine, young, pure, little boy

If the urge to quit roam in you,
then travel to the past;
the beginning that fueled you.

Sitting by her window
alone in a dimly lit room
fixing her gaze
on the midnight moon
feeling the thickness of night growing
she had that strong urge
to read
his unwritten story ...

I pay no mind to the man in the doorway
I've been learned that he will do no harm.
I diverge my attention from the knife in his hand,
Though I feel like calling out an alarm.
I pay no mind to what I hear inside
I've been learned that they don't mean a thing.
I keep the shriekings behind the bars of my cage
Though they often dance out when there's drinking
I pay no mind to deep grayscale urges.
I've been learned to work to give a ****.
I have a head who'd never lead me that way,
Though it's become harder to herd all the lamb.
I pay no mind to the changing of eyes
I've been learned that it's purely of face
I cover my own as I try to ignore them
Though they see how they're planning a race.
I pay no mind to the battles I witness
I've been learned to accept all our world.
I turn off the screen and cover my ears
Though the fists of my hands each have curled.

Sometimes, I just have the urge to curse at you.
But I just can't say it .
Obviously, I'm scared of being scolded.
But I really want to hit you with a truck
And say "goodbye"  forever to you.
But it's not that simple.
Especially that you're close to me.

What Is this urge I have
I don't understand

This drive to
Create,
To Invent,
To design.

What Is this?
I don't understand

How do I act upon It
How do I complete this
How do I start It

Where did It come from?
I don't understand

It's simplistically the most painful baring ever,
the world is rotating slowly alongside that time, we grow.
I sit here not amused with myself, in every form of way,
I honestly want to be grateful for everything,
but it is never enough for me.

I look at the clock going off in my mind,
ticking every single second away.
I stare at the walls which slowly decorate themselves,
but realistically always look the same.
I feel myself slowly urging to advance yet never seem to do so.
I see myself crying inside,
I want to let out yells and I don't know why.

A woman can paint her life away, staring at the same objects happily,
yet I am here sitting here writing the same **** things over and over until they satisfy me.

Why do I stress out on being so perfect to the eyes of others?