It started as a puncture,
but the seam slowly ripped;
a thimble can't protect
from a poison needle tip.

She tried to mend it
by making more holes;
the tear only grew
and grew out of control.

At the spinning wheel
her life would quickly dwindle;
frantic attempts to hem
were depleting the spindle.

What started as a puncture
of seductive sedation
fueled the abuse
of machined perforation.

"Don't mourn a living corpse"
were the last words she said
as she drew the needle
that held the last thread.

I feel cold, distant, shut off from the world.
I thought it was love but you created the ruptures through my heart. You created the waves of fiery through my voice. I constantly tried loving you. When I let go of the pain I couldn't help but feel safe and astound in your arms. I was confused. Am I throwing away a good man like you or is this a lesson to be learned. I couldn't help but feel my temperature rise to the thought of  cutting you lose. I loved you. I love you. You make my heart beat loud and louder when I'm near you. I stare at you in your eyes wondering what lies between your third eye. Is it what I already know or what you claim to say. Am I losing my mind with the roller coaster of thoughts? Is God sending your aura in my environment because of what you did or plan to do? Is this the universe way of showing me your true colors?
I sit and lay contemplating what to say, how to give my thoughts a voice but all they do is whisper quietly into my TNT of a movie. Am I creating the negative energy? Because I swear, I love you dear but if I silent my worries. Maybe just a sign would show me my correct path. To decipher the facts from the truth instead of losing my soul in a wrought emotion. Show me the way and feed my energy with hope and the positive vibes that is created through the joy and laughter of a giggling baby. Because I want nothing but love and peace even when my soul speaks gypsy; I am nothing more than love itself.

There are a few things in the world
That wave between light and darkness.
Such things allure me
I've some unknown hunger for them
Like a monster
It's neither an angel
Nor a devil
But it still is
Like a black rose
Rose is a symbol of goodness
Yet its stained in darkness
And it blooms as black
These things captivate me
Like a charmer captivating it's prey
I wonder about them all the time
I guess after all
I'm like them