#gollum
With his eloquent tongue,
Quick wit,
And grinning eyes.
He made us love him.
He made us feel loved.
If only for a moment.
Then it got ugly.
Suddenly there were questions.
Fighting amongst ourselves.
Betraying one another.
Never trusting.
No one.
Not even ourselves.
He made us weak.
Afraid.
Spiteful.
He turned us into something we're not.
He played us all.
He crushed us.
Or tried to.
Without a thought.
Without a care.
With his crippled black soul,
Deadened eyes,
And withered self.
Hidden behind a handsome mask,
A gentle hand,
His lies.
His fear drove him.
His fear of being realized.
His fear of being alone,
And others seeing him,
As he really is.
For he is dark,
He is apathetic,
He doesn't feel what others feel.
He cannot feel remorse,
Except for in fear of himself.
For he only cares for himself.
He claims he doesn't care.
He claims to be free.
Free of restraints.
Free of emotion.
Free of love.
But for what he claims is free,
Is imprisoned in fear.
For he is a coward.
Terribly frightened.
Afraid of others.
What they might say.
What they might think.
But mainly he is afraid of himself.
For he knows his noxious soul,
Will one day find him.
Abandoned.
Exposed.
The day he knows he is unloved.
The day he knows he is alone.
Alone with no one but himself.
The one he fears the most.
He will weep.
For nothing is stronger.
Nor more horrifying.
Than facing one's greatest fear.
To open one's eyes.
To face all alone.
The one you despise the most.
To see in the mirror,
The demon you've become,
As no fear is stronger,
Than that of oneself.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 6:41 PM UTC
and isn't strange
that i'm sitting in my car
in a parking garage
thinking of you and missing
your stupid plumb apple face
or maybe it's carved from soap
or shaved glass
fragmented by pieces
collected in bindles
followed by bundles
of the joy i used to have
of the sleep i used to get
of the energy i used to take
and isn't it strange how
i have no desire to have you
all to myself for you are
an automous being that
breathes and thinks and acts
wholy different than me
but i can't help but miss you
and your kiwi colored eyes
with the seeds cut out
dipped in a ring of gold
and like smegal i yearn to
hold that precious ring of gold
in my shriveled hands
even though i know
it'll corrupt me
but i'm drawn to mordor
all the same
that's what it's like
missing you
wanting to go there
even when I shouldn't
and isn't it strange
that my world is shifting
complicit and complicated
a deficit of the senses
a pull from the void
a shake of the head
with such filigree i am sated
but blinded by such yearning
to touch your hot skin
feel it rest
against mine
again but
maybe i'm too addicted to sparks
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 1:35 PM UTC
Tricksy, you are—false—
We hates it, yes we hates it,
Hates it forever!
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC