Gasp

Your drowning, I'm watching you,

If I jump in, I'll drown too,

So I watched from the edge of the bank,

While you make your final mistake,

You gasp for air,

But there is no oxygen to spare,

I have started to mourn you,

As your lips turn blue,

Lungs flooding with water,

When we all had warned you,

Your life grew cold,

As you sank into the deep,

This life you sold,

Into a never ending sleep.

Behind the Mask

I used to envy your life,

All I have for you now is pity,

Your decisions cause strife,

Building lies in your decadent city,

How much pain and suffering will you cause,

Now that you are no longer hiding behind a facade,

A mask you wore with shame,

A mask you bare no more,

Though the feeling's the same,

Pain that bores until sore,

Deep,

Penetrating your foundation,

Hypocrite sleep,

With no ones' admiration,

Tell me lies,

For your sewer runs foul,

A stench at death's door dies,

Where hungry beasts growl,

Waiting to feed,

Evil that dwells,

Preying on the naive,

How your pride swells,

Repressing the actual person,

A role built fit,

Of this I am certain,

Your teeth will gnash and grit,

If you continue your ways,

This decision will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Night V.S Day

A drip of water is amplified to its full potential as it stops you, taking you away from what you were doing. Your pupils expand for a more comprehensible sight. Branches from the bushes tear the glass on the window apart. The wind along with thunder, thrash and shake the house. Rain floods the roof of the house until it crashes to the ground below. You cower under the covers, hidden in the deepest part of your bed, waiting for a reassuring calm to befall you. Your heart slams against the inside of your chest, beating in a radical fashion as blood surges through your swelling veins. The floor whines in pain as the growing footsteps close in on you. You hold your breath until your lungs explode, imagining the evil that would soon engulf your being. You are not religious, yet, you cry out to a god anyway. What is it about the bumps in the night?

A drip of water is barely noticed as you continue going about your business. Your eyes squint to see the clock on the wall. The simple branches from the bushes tap the glass on the window making whispers that are almost inaudible. Wind gently rustles the trees as the occasional rumble of thunder is known in the distance. A light drizzle floats to the ground after tenderly sprinkling the roof. You cuddle up in a blanket, awaiting a loved one to return home. Your heart effortlessly graces the inside of your chest as blood is guided through your sensitive veins. The floor alerts you with happiness as the growing footsteps draw near you. You inhale with relaxation while you imagine the smiling face of your child that would soon be in your presence. You are not religious, yet, you thank God for the joy in your life. What is it about a beautiful day?

Nothing has changed, you are still the same person; however, you always fear the night. It is the tales that drives your imagination into a frenzy? Is it the knowledge that there is something greater than you, possessing power to condemn you that allows you to favor the day time? Why do you compare the shadows of night with the lucid corners of the day? Does the lack of sight compel your other senses into panic, or does the clarity of sight wane your senses into tranquility? Do you associate the horrors of the media with your phobia of night, or are you influenced by the security that accompanies your ability to see your surroundings? Why indeed?

The night is the same as the day. They are both under control by time, people are the same inhumane animals at any time of the day or night, and they both serve a useful purpose for matters of the law. If you see a man walking in the late hours of the night, you think he is mischievous; however, if you see the same man walking during the day, you assume he is just walking for his health.

People are creatures of habit, they will continue to fear the night and hold day time with a higher authority. If you just listen to the bumps in the night and in the light noises of the day you will find that night and day are one in the same, in that they are both nothing without the meanings you give them.

An Encounter with the Devil

I was twenty-three years old when my husband died, and I was twenty-three years old when I sold my soul to the Devil. I denounced God, that fateful night, and just like my husband I never talked to Him again.

I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, almost trying to look beyond the ceiling, into the stars, up into Heaven. I saw nothing. I cried out in pain for hours, mourning my late husband, but God wasn't listening. My eyes burned from the excessive number of tears they produced; I wiped them from my eyes. I looked up at the fictional dreamland with a vengeance, and I cursed the name of God. I meant it with every fiber of my being.

I went into the study and mutilated my Bible, ripping it into tiny pieces. The pages of the Bible violently soared in the air, as I fell to the floor screaming along with the thunder that rumbled in the distance. I sobbed, "I will give anything to feel the type of love that my husband and I once shared, to have a man who is infatuated with me, and for me to become alive again. I would give anything to feel that Spark! A passion like we once had, a burning desire to touch, embrace, and love." The air in the study grew cold, almost deathlike. It soon became brutally smoky. The clock behind me stopped ticking and a mysterious figure took shape in front of me.

I squinted my eyes and pinched myself, thinking it was a dream; it wasn't. The figure came closer to me, and with each step a foul odor began to surround my lungs. The figure held out what appeared to be a hand. He spoke, "If you take my hand, every man you consummate a relationship with will fall in love with you. In return, you will give me your soul." His charm gave me hope, and in my longing for desire I took his hand.

The next day I woke up on the floor of my study. Still feeling depressed I went into my kitchen and slit my throat with a fillet knife. There was no blood. I repeatedly stabbed and slit different parts of my body. I did not bleed and no scar graced my skin. I had no idea that I had made a deal with the Devil.

Without a soul I found it hard to die. I attempted to plunge to my death, freeze to death, blow shotgun holes into my sides, and finally I constructed a home-made guillotine out of my husband's weights and masses of kitchen knives. Once my head reattached itself, I checked my body for injuries. I sustained not one. My house looked like a crime scene, without the blood of course, and I did not look like a victim, I was beautiful. I had an unnatural glow, almost like an angelic being... (Work in progress)

Why?

I saw a woman in the dark. Her ferocity sent bone-numbing spasms up my spine. Why was she in the dark? Why was she alone? These questions tickled my brain. Why would such terse questions plague my mind? All I wanted to know is why. Was this a dream? Am I dreaming right now? Most of my dreams were nebulous and minuscule, but this was clear and extensive. I walked over to the woman, our eyes met. I was feeling misanthropic when I analyzed her dissolute ways. How could I have known of her sins? Why was this happening to me? She was immoral and beautiful, like a rose with thorns. Her eyes burned of green and her soul was despicable. I knew what I had to do. I gave an admonishment, but she drew closer to me. I was a wreck. My mind was distraught and my body was taking over control. She was abject as she took off her red dress. I loathed this. I shouted out language reviling against her wiles. She wouldn't stop. Why did I see the woman in the dark? Why can I no longer see her? I must know. Why are my hands red, and why am I surrounded by darkness? Why?

Losing

Everyday you're losing me,

Everyday you're with him,

Believing his lies,

Cutting your ties,

Everyday you're losing you,

Everyday you're with him,

Choosing to be blind,

Always looking behind,

Everyday you're losing them,

Everyday you're with him,

The family that cares,

When he is scarce.

Forgiveness

How do I count the ways,

To earn your forgiveness,

Do I wait until I'm old and gray,

Slowly fading away,

To earn your forgiveness,

To allow you to let me stay,

Do I walk a million miles,

Or until my toes bleed,

To earn your forgiveness,

To tell you what I need,

Do I climb a mountain,

Risking my life,

To earn your forgiveness,

To end all strife,

Do I attempt to convince you,

Tying you to a chair,

To earn your forgiveness,

To tell you everything to clear the air,

Do I bare my soul,

For your amusement,

To earn your forgiveness,

To agree on a settlement,

Do I have to conquer the world,

So you can see the leader in me,

To earn your forgiveness,

To reveal me for you to see,

Do I fail,

Before I win,

To earn your forgiveness,

To make up for my sin.

I am Sorry

How do I count the ways,

To prove that I am sorry,

Do I notch off pieces of my arms,

Exposing my veins,

To prove that I am sorry,

To remove all the harm,

Do I cut an artery,

Offering you a pint,

To prove that I am sorry,

To tell you that you were right,

Do I severe a nerve,

Removing a sensation,

To prove I am sorry,

To end anticipation,

Do I ruin my beauty,

Scaring my face,

To prove that I am sorry,

To do it with haste,

Do I burn my feet,

So that I can only walk on my knees,

To prove that I am sorry,

To give you my bounties,

Do I sew my lips shut,

Muffling my nagging,

To prove that I am sorry,

To discontinue bragging,

Do I slit my wrists,

Draining myself dry,

To prove I am sorry,

To show that I try,

Do I crash my car into a tree,

Driving recklessly,

To prove that I am sorry,

To love you endlessly.

A Facade of Me

You and I went into the woods. Only one of us came out. Completely surrounded by the trees, I was engulfed with the darkness in me. Though I searched tremendously, you where nowhere to be found, you dared not utter one sound. I tripped and stumbled along the way, the ground bruised my feet, which was bitter-sweet. I winced at the minimal pain, although really I could feel the shame. It was the shiver that was in the wind, the lies within my sin. The noises among the breeze, whispered those I teased. As a familiar sound approached me, I hid myself with some reeds, a facade I wore with little ease. I was mute when you walked past me, though my heart screamed, I knew you could not recognize me. I saw you leave the dark forest that night, I assumed it was the last time I’d see you, and if I did nothing I’d assume right. I spent my nights in the woods, I searched my soul, the best that I could. I had watched you inspire me, so I threw down the reeds, and walked out of the trees. A soft light guided me, showing me the truth, what I would not see. What I saw disgusted me, the persona I tried to be, the same sight you saw in me. Though my mind was out of the woods, my body remained, as long as it could. I hungered to tear down the tree, the one fat with lies, which kept you away from me. Now I have devoured it, a taste, bearing a familiar grit. I now see beyond that tree, that forest, which held my mind in captivity. All I see you, but only in my dreams, for I know this life’s been ripped at the seams. Still I wait for another chance, to expose the actual person in me, wishing that you would grant me this opportunity.

Blood Red Rose

Pain aroused me as blood began to surface from my pricked finger. I quickly clasped my finger with my lips, hoping that the bleeding would be stopped. My heart violently beat the backing of my ribcage as blood began to plummet to the tile below. I bruised my hand as I forcefully clutched it at the wrist. I watched the droplets increase the pool on the floor beneath my feet. Cast-off from the blood droplets began to speckle the tops of my feet. As time, though short, continued my feet were encased with my blood. I leaned over the sink as if to catch myself from fainting. I looked deep into the mirror, attempting to examine my soul. I once faced death's door as a child, this time I had my doubts. My knees began to buckle; the sink was almost full, I grasped the edge trying to brace myself, the blood lined the rim causing my grip to be useless. I hit the ground with an echoing rumble. My heart almost paused, attempting to fight for survival. I could see the maker of my doom as I helplessly lay on the floor. I focused my vision on the beauty of the red rose. It was meant to cause no harm. The vibrant color provided a numbing sense of tranquility. As I parted ways with the evil that I have done, I inhaled my final breaths. The rose began to blur as everything motionlessly changed to black and white. A tear left my cheek as everything faded to black.

I overlooked the coroner as he commenced his autopsy. He coldly stripped my clothing from me. He showed no emotion as my bare skin was exposed for the last time, for his eyes only. He wrapped his hand around my ankle, beginning to shower away the dried blood and impurities from my lifeless flesh. He gently caressed the icy water over the surface of my curves. Along with the water, he ran his latex fingers through my hair. He lifted the faucet over my face. Water softly rained upon me. The light drizzle revealed the natural beauty of my presence. The coroner turned for a moment to taken in my lovely purity. He was morbidly enticed. He drowned his feelings continuing with his occupation. He examined my body for cuts and wounds; assuming that it was a suicide. He found none. He only found a prick. He lifted my hand for a closer look. He noted that the prick barely entered the under layers of the dermis. He removed his initial thoughts and continued with the autopsy. When all was finished the report read: C.O.D (Cause of Death) was determined as exsanguination related to severe hemophilia.

After the ruling it was not long before I was placed on one last slab. I couldn't feel the fire's heat as it smoldered. I was also relieved from smelling my flesh as it burned and crackled. As I was reduced to nothing but ash, I felt an inner peace. Life on earth was over, and death is really only a new beginning, a cleansing way to start a new.

Hold Me Close

Warmth from your skin,

Comforts and eases my mind,

As I am deep within,

Your strong embrace,

Becoming one intertwined,

You've played your ace,

Revealing my fate,

Forgiving me,

By clearing my slate,

I can finally see,

When you hold me close,

You're my only hope,

That others oppose,

To helping me cope.

Blood Lust

You are awakened. You can sense that I am in the room with you. A certain presence, this is undeniable. You remain silent as if you'd expect that I just simply leave you. Your fate is sealed, as I have come for a reason. Your beating heart, begins to pain as blood surges through your supple veins. As I caress my hand along the inside of your leg, you feel intrigued. Guilt and sin attempt to enter your mind, but you enjoy it, my touch. You enjoy it, so you do not scream and try to chain me. Although, you couldn't defeat me if you tried. Pure pleasure sends you into a deep trance. You are helpless, with your life in my hands. The rustic scent of your blood drives me further into a frenzy. An uncontrollable drive for blood. A thirst that can't be quenched. I shall not attempt to fight it, this will only cause the blood lust to grow. As our passion ignites, I grasp a hold of your neck. You stare deeply into my soulless eyes, where there is nothing. I embrace your neck with my teeth. As I drain you dry, my thirst dissipates. Your body grows cold, lacking pigment, lacking life. I return to the night, awaiting to find another, for when the hunger grows stronger.

Endless Feeling

Stripped to the bone,

Completely exposed for you,

Opened to the core,

Where an uncontrollable inferno awaits,

A passion that can't be bound,

A part of me is very much afraid,

History is buried but the feeling remains,

A void that has yet to be filled,

A place that has been reserved,

Where only a puzzle has yet to be solved,

Questioning motives is pointless,

Pondering will take my mind,

And dreaming will get me by,

Though my nights are lonely,

My feeling is endless,

There I am,

Bare before you,

Soul and all,

Obsessing that I can't be wrong,

Realizing what I can't be without,

Emotions

As the black void is opened,

Evil commences a release,

A rapture from the control,

Rioting to please the dark within.

The madness' volume is unfolded,

While others perish,

Seemingly deleted from the creator,

Seemingly ceasing to exist.

The void grows hungry,

Starving for a taste,

A blood lust that reigns unquenchable,

Becoming a suitable fetish.

Tantalizing to the eye,

Smoldering to the touch,

Sinfully sweet,

Deadly to taste.

A mentally draining sensation,

Rendering you senseless,

Paralyzing your cognitive reflexes,

While scratching at your soul.

Emotions for pleasure,

Emotions for pain,

Emotions to lose,

Emotions to gain.

Evil can remain,

While good takes the reigns,

Defense for the heart,

That most take in vain.

Realistically My Love

You sir my lover are not as the rain:

Darkness is a lot brighter than your words to me,

Because all you do is cause me nothing but pain,

If this wasn’t meant to be, realistically maybe I’d see.

I have seen you in your ugliest hour, that time of need,

There were no angels upon your shoulder;

And only me have let your compulsion breed,

It was an inferno of passion that now barely can smolder.

Your voice, from what I can still hear,

Is cold and heartless being filled with lies;

I used to be blind not wanting to see this clear;

You disgust me and I callused my heart until it dies.

And still, only as fate, I am sure this love will go on,

Even though my heart is broken and I can’t feel strong.

You've Disappeared

You are gone, done with me,

You've disappeared, that is clear to me,

I stand alone, as I usually have,

I feel only empty, not the least bit sad,

I am again, surrounded by nothing,

With no chance, of you returning,

Lies bound us together,

Lies tore us under,

I remain the constant, while you change with the season,

What I found is now missing again,

A heart, lifeless without a home,

A certain limbo, that is only known,

I dare not utter your name,

For I only associated it with shame,

You've made me this vile, I am disgusted even with me,

With the things I've said, with the things I refuse to see,

I was foolish, not realizing you were a child,

Immature and tainted, are words that are only mild,

Even if you swallowed your pride,

The memories are hard to hide,

Memories that can be forgotten,

That only prove we were rotten,

I could give more chances, that you'd never take,

Or I could stop this fracture before the break,

However, this matter isn't up to me,

For it is you who have disappeared from yourself, unable to see,

You are left to search aimlessly,

And you will fail completely.

Pictures

The flash sparks and thus the image is born, imprinted into the digital world forever. The pictures never lie, altered or not they never lie. Life is captured here, forever held in the digital world, never to be lost or forgotten. That is why people don't take pictures of funerals or divorce, they take pictures to remember the good times, the funny moments, the moments that made life worth living. Those moments are what one aspires to capture on camera. It is never the ugly, or evil in someone, but the good, the light. So why do we throw away these pictures as soon as we're done with the people? Is the memory to painful to cherish, or is the guilt to heavy to bare? Why is it that a picture can have so much power over a person's conscious? It starts when you open your own eyes and look into yourself, and then your reflection captured in a picture. You certainly never see the horror, or pain you've caused, nor the lies you told to ease your pride. No, you only see the good that you believe you have in yourself. Until you accept yourself for who you really are, for everything that you've done, only then do you have the right to delete the pictures of those who've hurt you. Otherwise, it is like you are deleting yourself. The problem with that it is you never know which part of you is being deleted, the evil or the good.

Voyeuristic Wonders

The intensity of your heartbeat causes the back of your ribcage to bruise. The sweat trickles down your body profusely like a torn artery. You eyes widen, to scan in all of the indiscretions that have presented themselves to you. You receive a certain high from the unaware couple that ignited the voyeuristic wonder in your body. You inhale deeply to take in the essence of your sin. The sinful thoughts that cloud your judgement, or the lack there of in your case. You are utterly captured by the beauty and enjoyment that you receive from merely hiding in the bushes. You enclose your feelings deep in the cold storage shed that used to be the home of your lonely heart.

The Whispers off Your Lips

I am; the whispers off your lips, the writings on the walls, the moans in sound, the clouds in your judgement, the tingling in your nerves, the vixen of your dreams, the operator of your heart, the god of your soul, the lothario of your mind, the mistress of your demise, the sin in your eyes, the feeling of your fingers, the lingering scent in your nose, the mess in your head, the flirtation of your bed, the keeper of your memories, the writer of you future and the insomnia that you anxiously await.

Slumber of You

I have slipped,

deep into a numbing sense,

of an eternal slumber,

as isolation engulfs my soul,

rage enters my mind,

only for a moment,

dreaming of you calms the angry beast,

relaxes the void where my heart belongs,

and eases the pain that we've caused,

only numbing the sensation of emotion,

controls the inferno of passion,

a passion that is unexplainable,

as I look in your eyes,

I see it, the pain,

the angst, the worry, the fear,

the comfort,

the trust,

the me of me,

and the you of you,

as I lay sleeping,

surround me,

watch over me,

as I will return,

I will awake,

from this coma,

where all of my senses have failed,

where I will return to you,

repaired,

awaiting a new.

Silence

I am silent when I am in pain,

for my tears hit with a muffled boom,

time ticks the minutes of my shame,

you enjoy love in the other room,

will you ever notice,

the tears on my cheek,

if I cry in silence,

if I cry while you sleep,

I fear that I can't go on,

you won't notice my distraction,

with her on your arm,

even though she is a fatal attraction,

I am not lying in wait,

I do not have a gun,

I know that this can't be fate,

if the devil has won,

as I lay in bed,

hearing sin,

I am seemingly dead,

engulfed by the evil within,

so as I fade away,

from the mess you've made,

I find it hard, to a god I pray,

to hide the devil in a deep grave,

for the end holds the final plea,

is this a lost notice,

or will you find her guilty,

because I can't contain the silence,

the silence in me.

Sleepless

I fear that I am out of control with my life,

and the things that matter the most to me,

will soon slip away into the emptiness that has poured into my heart.

I am forever pondering the ideas that I am somehow to blame,

but I find myself laying next to the Sleeper's Demon,

my Incubus is the one who keeps me sleepless.

With the fear and hate amounting in myself,

I am fearful that I can't continue to go on killing myself,

over an idea that society has made.

If I have a pitiful amount of happiness in my life,

it might just be enough to keep me,

to keep me forever sleepless.

Morphine: Straight to the Heart

The numbness enters me,

it protects me from the damage that can occur,

it is a silent calm that I now see,

I am more coherent now than ever before,

the emotional morphine is a gentle lover,

allowing me to breathe in deeply,

while I sleeping tug at the cover,

that permits me to sleep soundly,

I find it ironic that I feel more now,

more now than ever before.

Restless

Dwelling, deep within, a fire burns to get out,

a passion,

a passion with an uncontrolled nature,

a nature with a secret,

a secret created in a mistake,

a mistake with lives attached to it,

a life torn in confusion,

confusion which holds an answer,

an answer painful with meaning,

a meaning not yet revealed,

a chance of fate presents itself,

a presentation for a change,

a change that hopefully won't be realized too late.

Quick, open your eyes, reveal the meaning,

a meaning with happiness,

happiness attached to yourself,

attached to someone else,

someone who has never betrayed you,

betrayal that will not fall before you,

see it,

your last chance,

embrace it,

touch it,

before it is too late.

Plunge, into the new, the uncharted,

don't fall into back into history,

write the future,

write for you,

tomorrow awaits you,

better yourself,

be in control for you,

emotions come and go,

as does time,

time holding fate in limbo,

pausing the future,

that is still unclear,

a true friend is always there,

while all others disappear.

A Crisp Breeze

You inhale the refreshingly cool air,

as you stroll down the pathway of leaves,

each crunching as you alternate your feet,

but the loud crunches are easily muted by your mind,

you shrug away the past,

opening your eyes to the possibilities,

but still remaining cautious,

as that swift breeze sends shivers down your spine,

you warm yourself,

allowing a timid smile to grace your face,

as you continue with your stroll,

your mind is at ease,

just enjoying a crisp breeze.

A New Dawn

As the sun slowly rises over the horizon,

The wind blows sweetly,

Pushing the salty air into the beyond,

The waves still crash gently,

Stirring the waters which you sit upon,

The boat rocks violently,

But not for too long,

For the calm rolls in softly,

Bringing in a new dawn.

Broken Pieces

Broken pieces of my shattered heart,

I pick them up without falling apart,

Broken pieces of my torn dreams,

I pick them up to sew the seams,

Broken pieces of my damaged pride,

I pick them up only to hide,

Broken pieces of my shallow lies,

I pick them up ending all ties,

Broken pieces from which I'm made,

I can't pick me up I'm afraid.