~For Baby Beast
It started out,
With what it could have been,
What we could have done,
And what I could have said,
It may be too late now,
But better late than never.
I stand in the shower,
As if my mind was traveling through time,
Creating new puzzles and challenges,
That fulfill my nights.
What once was,
Will never once be again.
I stand and think,
As water drips down my neck,
I remember of those rides,
When it was raining outside,
And I looked through my window to the sound of Dejavu,
Just imagining what I could be.
Long cold thoughts,
For my body to feel relieved of the pain.
Long burning waterfalls,
For my body to never love again.
I once heard that we make our own luck,
At the time it sounded nice,
I tried saying it a couple of times,
But never came out the same,
Sometimes it was for help,
Sometimes it was for knowledge,
And sometimes it was the answer.
I walked in the shower,
Loud voices screaming to the sound of Lund,
I closed the doors and the storm started,
The ceiling was the cloud,
The shower was the rain,
My fears turned into acid,
As my tears turned into steam.
I remember feeling my stomach crumble,
My hands shaking,
Eyes sweating,
I hit the door the first time,
The second, she came into my mind,
It felt so real, so real that I could hear her laugh,
Begging me to hit her,
But crying for me to help her,
How could I hit such a beautiful being?
I want my voices to be heard,
Want my screams to be considered,
Want my sweat to be seen,
And want my poetry to be read.
Sometimes I swallow my own nothing,
Feel the emptiness bouncing,
Feel the guard calling,
I created my own little world,
For those who fear,
To escape and explore,
The beauty of my mind,
I see, a clearer world,
With no belongings and no money,
Simply a pen and paper,
A world with no rulers,
A world in which you feel,
The same old sad stories,
But with a happy ending,
With the dead walking freely,
And their causes flying swiftly,
With a pretty bird by my side,
And a bright blue sky that cries.
As I walk through the main forrest, I see a very tall hill,
And so I walk and climb,
For him to be satisfied.
As I approach the top,
I hear a familiar voice,
That sounds like the one,
But screams like the two.
My mind is now back to the lab,
Where thoughts come and go,
Water keeps dripping,
And tears keep sounding fake,
This so called shower,
The one in which I sigh,
For my life to become so high,
That no shall be capable to buy.
I now stand, one thousand feet in the air,
Yet still hear Broken being sung,
I once again, open my eyes,
And check the time for answers,
Dry myself and walk,
As now I face a detective,
“Why the long showers, my dear?”
Well, that’s where my mind finds peace.
