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1003

Dying at my music!
Bubble! Bubble!
Hold me till the Octave’s run!
Quick! Burst the Windows!
Ritardando!
Phials left, and the Sun!
Get thee behind me. Even as, heavy-curled,
Stooping against the wind, a charioteer
Is snatched from out his chariot by the hair,
So shall Time be; and as the void car, hurled
Abroad by reinless steeds, even so the world:
Yea, even as chariot-dust upon the air,
It shall be sought and not found anywhere.
Get thee behind me, Satan. Oft unfurled,
Thy perilous wings can beat and break like lath
Much mightiness of men to win thee praise.
Leave these weak feet to tread in narrow ways.
Thou still, upon the broad vine-sheltered path,
Mayst wait the turning of the phials of wrath
For certain years, for certain months and days.
Just Heather May 2011
Reading your words of hate I start to think
Was it me that pushed you to that virulent brink,
Contemning the world, or were you always that way?
I don't recollect or recall ever hearing you say
Satan gripped your throat, or that your angels cried
Tears of blood when you looked to their mournful eyes.
I confessed to biting the apple in their sympathetic trials,
But more lies still concoct in this alchemist's phials.

          I found myself writing the way I used to long ago,
          But God knows I don't feel the way I did.
          I try to remember all I learnt in Eden's groves,
          But I can't find the lessons in memories I hid.

You can hate me all you want, it changes nothing,
'Cause it's dead and gone and I find my new self coughing
And choking on the words that I have to whisper to them;
I am silently descending to a distant end.
I've painted all my sins onto these walls in my mind,
But someday I'll be leaving this all behind,
Taking nothing but the signatures and faded scars,
Leaving behind pieces of my blackened heart.

          Have I found myself, or is the girl I am long gone?
          I don't know the reflection in the pools of tears.
          As I sit hear repeating words of other's songs,
          I met their expectations by embodying their fears.

I failed and ruined every single thing that mattered
Lying in the shards of glass from mirrors I shattered.
They cut into my lungs and rattle in my hollow chest
As I lay here and force out these final breaths.
Your heart dances to read I'm close to the end,
Do you remember when we said we'd stay as friends?
I was wrong, it turns out I do despise you,
I can't forgive or forget the monster I see inside you.

          I find myself look up and ask "Who are we now?"
          And see nothing but bitter clouds blocking the sun,
          A deadening silence cascades on all that surrounds,
          I am lost, but this is something you haven't won.


                                    (If life is just another ****** up examination
                                     I'll die ungraded, degraded by this thoughtless nation.
                                      If life is just another step towards a place in heaven
                                       I will gladly walk to hell, 'cause I am filled with the seven.
                                        And it is with no knowledge of on whom I can depend
                                                 I will sit here, won't pray,
                                                     Continue to pretend
                                                         ­   I'm okay.)
In days not long after hopscotch
Stories of wild parties began emerging
Of music played too loud
Friends holding hands
And cider, invented by older boys.

With your long flowing hair and flashing smile
You were always the first to be asked
And I watched from a safe distance
Fascinated by the circle you drew,
Thinking that you had never even noticed me.

Until the day that changed my life.
Preceded by whispers and giggles
I received your invitation, as if one was ever needed
To meet up after school in the Block B Chemistry lab.

The room was dimly lit,
There was a Bunsen burner hissing romantically in the corner
And a spotlight on the desk where you sat,
Surrounded by phials and corked flasks.

Measuring, pouring, mixing, stirring
I had no idea what it was possible to create
As I stood, spellbound, watching over your shoulder
Not knowing how far to go on a first date.

— The End —