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The hole is getting deeper
And I'm falling in.

The depression,
The hopelessness,

Are wolves circling,
Waiting to begin.

The sand is getting higher,
And I'm choking on it.

The silence,
The darkness,

Pulling me deeper
Into this suffocating pit.

My fingers are bleeding
From how I tried to crawl.

I yearn,
I reach desperately,

Escape eludes me still,
I fear I will drown after all.
There are three kinds of angels in the world.
You have your Arch Angels who are the big deal celebrities of all angels
They only get involved in the most serious of mortal affairs
Their club is exclusive, open only to those with golden wings.
They say they  that they are guardians of all,
But do not protect, only intervene.
Then you have your Guardian angels  who are celebrities to mortals
They get involved but only in highly dangerous personal affairs
Their club is open, if you have white wings and a halo you're in.
They say that they are guardians assigned to certain people ,
To protect at all costs, even their immortal souls.
And then you have your shadow angels the ones that no one knows exist
They are involved with everything us mortals do
Their club does not exist, they stay in the shadows not drawing attention to their black wings and silver shields.
They do not claim to be guardians, only mere observers that report to the higher ups,
A special few though are guardians , guardians of those mortals who have seen
The Angel of Death.
And turned away.
These are the mortals that these shadow angels watch,
Those who need no protection, but a guiding hand.
That is what these black winged angels do.
Those special few watch over their special charges and let them know,
It will be alright.
That death is not impatient, he only wants the best.
That indeed it is not your time to go,
Death  can wait,
Life cannot.
But when their mortals time has come, they will be there with an outstretched hand.
So that they can take you to meet Death,
And acknowledge that it is indeed their time.
These are the angels that no one speaks about,
The ones who have no club,
Require no admiration,
Those angels who stand  alone in the shadows
Who keep the mortal race from despair.
They who are the champions of life,
and who guide us to our ends.
These angels.
These black winged shadow angels
With their swords and shields of silver,
Only shine at night,
When no one is awake to
When you reach the house that has become a home,
     take a right;
walk down the street that is a community,
    take a left;
then travel to the shops that are lives,
    take a left;
see the corner that has become a job,
to find the alley that is a veteran's bed,
     take a right;
walk past the single mother begging for food,
     turn around;
sleep soundly in your warm bed.
Prompt: write a poem that begins with a direction
I think it's time to separate the fake from the real... if there are any real.
Bad girl. Hush. Speak. Sit*
Talk to me like a dog;
I'll treat you like one
If I could rearrange my body,
I'd move my humorous bone to my brain
because, honestly, I'm the last one to get the joke.
The sole of my feet would house my heart
so every step I take, Mother Nature feels my love.
My ears would be close to my hands
so when I reach out, he'll see that I'm listening.
One eye behind my head, the other facing forward,
one looking for stray daggers, the other focused on the future.
I'd move some bones to form a breastplate
because I'm more afraid of what's to come than what happened.
I just wouldn't want to loosen my humanity.
Prompt: misplaced bones
There are a lot of things wrong..
With the way you make me feel
You make me feel like I'm taking acid
I start to feel dizzy and like I'm shooting over the clouds
Because you called me cute...

But then you take 96 hours, 27 minutes and 34 seconds to reply to a text message or phone call I left to you

I worry. And that acid trip starts to plummet and I feel like I am falling

Extremely fast. And the second I'm about to hit the ground. You're suddenly back.

And I am planted softly on the ground

In a daze. But then you're gone again.

Then. 5 months, 2 weeks, 7 hours, 52 minutes, and 8 seconds later. You finally start talking to me again.

Apologizing for breaking my heart.
For literally taking my heart and squeezing it. With the blood oozing out and my heart deflating and it literally feels like my heart has been seized out of my chest into the palm of your hand but some how I can literally feel you hurt my heart

And that very pain sends electric shocks to my brain. And I'm blacked out mentally until you "apologize"

And the dopamine in my body starts to spike and I trick myself into thinking. "Yes. It's all going back to normal, we aren't crazy" "we aren't crazy"

Yes we are

You make me feel like I will die without you. If I can't have your existence present to me. I am literally a bomb full of depression. Ready to implode into myself at any given moment.

You crush my desires into fine dust and set them in a line and snort them so you can watch me crumble to nothingness. You take my happiness with a needle and shoot it through your own veins. You take my love and put it in empty pill capsules and pop them whenever you're lonely. And you literally leave me with nothing but sadness.    

You literally abuse me like I'm some sort of drug machine. Whenever you need it. I've seem to always have it.

There are a lot of things wrong with the way you make me feel.

But what is really wrong, and disturbing..

I still love every. Single. Piece of you.
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