The officer said it was illegal but I've never been punished thusfar.
I knew it was wrong, but desire consumed me.
I grabbed the man and dragged him into my van.
He screamed and I laughed.
Brutal company.
It was going to hurt, of that I was certain.
His lack of consent did not stop me. I was on a mission, and James Bond always thrives.
I got in and drove as fast and as far as I could.
Speed bumps bring my daughter joy.
She giggles, I smile, he writhes in pain. My smile grows.
A pain bubbles in my clavicle but I digress.
But, I don't digress because it HURT.
I locked the angels in my closet for safe keeping. My mother is proud.
Blood is my favorite accessory. Hashtag period.
My friend always said I was cunning but I never believed her father was a good man.
After all, a good man would never commit such acts.
I threw the empty toilet paper roll at his grave then shouted at his wife's cat.
Meow. Meow, meow. Meow.
It sings the song of the hummingbird so I put it in a collar and walk it to the pound.
The pound sings the song of death, my song.
My student tool box is full of unfortunate goodies, and yes, my English teacher approves.
But I would rather she not. This is my journey, not one I shall share.
I aggressively slap the keys of life, hoping yogurt will seep from the cracks of destiny.
It never does, and I starve.
My granola is friendless.
Life is bitter, like the skin of a plum.
Fierce as a seahorse. But again, I digress.

As I wander in, the path ahead unfolding
I'm forced to reassess the playing cards I'm holding
Conquer and divide the uncertainties,
only to find they're alive, they've multiplied
And though my days wandering down the wrong path have ended
Its set for the aimless wandering to begin
Most days are unsurprising
I can see the sun arising
Illuminating the things I've learned thusfar
Though still leaving me with a tin can for a heart
It's like looking in the rear view mirror,
objects no more nearer, rather farther
And it's only getting harder seeing, believing that my intuition's not deceiving,
That the feeling that's haunting me
Isn't just because of where I want to be,
That what I see is what I see,
That I haven't shrouded my head in rose colored glasses,
Not clouding myself with whatever flight of fancy
Passes me from midnight to midmorning, warning me
That morning light dancing across my bed isn't the harbinger of another day of medioctiry,
But the bringer of the life I swear I see.  
That I haven't deluded myself concluding,
Reading signs alluding to some moment frozen inside my head subconsciously
That I swear has been there all my life,
That I'm fated like I thought, not condemned to waiting,
Not believing without reason, not deceiving,
But seeing the redeeming that I've seen,
Just believing what I've seen.  
Just believing.