Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Monday, February 3, 2014
Succubus
Life after death,
Am I
or Will I be,
A Succubus?
If they roam this earth then I surely am this creature that I feel deep within,
If I'm not then I was, or will be.
Am I
or Will I be,
A Succubus?
If they roam this earth then I surely am this creature that I feel deep within,
If I'm not then I was, or will be.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Demons
"But the world is so corrupt and justice must be served!" She screamed at the top of her lungs,
Tattered.
"If we didn't press for change the world would be colder than the ice age we live in now- and that's pretty damn cold!" She continued.
So furious, and determined to prove a point.
Her tiny little voice screams through the airwaves-
Air Length escape underneath her words.
Her tiny little fists want to pound on the floor- she wants to scream and throw her body to the linoleum.
Cold, hard, lifeless linoleum- just as cold, hard and lifeless as this fucking world.
The scream resonating in her head is piercing,
and painful.
Soundling like a million voices,
Telling her, whispering to her, all the terrible things that she "should do"
"It's OK" They whisper, "We are your friends," The assure.
"INSANITY! Leave me the FUCK alone!" She screams out loud.
The lights flicker,
Something....Something very dark has consumed her this past month.
She needs to escape it, but there is no escaping a demon that attaches itself to your being.
Because A body is weak,
But a mind is strong.
She inhales,
It's shaky like it has been.
Frail and Weak.
She knows deep down that she is stronger than these demons.
FUCK.
She breaks down, shaking (which seems to be the norm lately).
Fiercely shaking.
Like the addict that she is, although this time it's not from withdraw,
It's from these demons.
Which swim like the purest heroin through her veins.
Pure.
Fucking.
Heroin.
Tattered.
"If we didn't press for change the world would be colder than the ice age we live in now- and that's pretty damn cold!" She continued.
So furious, and determined to prove a point.
Her tiny little voice screams through the airwaves-
Air Length escape underneath her words.
Her tiny little fists want to pound on the floor- she wants to scream and throw her body to the linoleum.
Cold, hard, lifeless linoleum- just as cold, hard and lifeless as this fucking world.
The scream resonating in her head is piercing,
and painful.
Soundling like a million voices,
Telling her, whispering to her, all the terrible things that she "should do"
"It's OK" They whisper, "We are your friends," The assure.
"INSANITY! Leave me the FUCK alone!" She screams out loud.
The lights flicker,
Something....Something very dark has consumed her this past month.
She needs to escape it, but there is no escaping a demon that attaches itself to your being.
Because A body is weak,
But a mind is strong.
She inhales,
It's shaky like it has been.
Frail and Weak.
She knows deep down that she is stronger than these demons.
FUCK.
She breaks down, shaking (which seems to be the norm lately).
Fiercely shaking.
Like the addict that she is, although this time it's not from withdraw,
It's from these demons.
Which swim like the purest heroin through her veins.
Pure.
Fucking.
Heroin.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Accept
And she spins faster than ever,
The pinks and blues of the sky, they swirl.
Like cotton candy being spun on a carousel.
Whirling and twirling, and falling to the floor.
A fun and beautiful sensation, yet a headache accompanied by a stomach ache,
While hitting the floor.
Fun at first,
Leaving you breathless.
Lifeless.
Yet Zen resides within, where you grew it once.
The seed is still planted, parched and dry- thirsty and dehydrated.
Begging for water with a dry, dusty mouth.
"Acceptance is key"
Whispered an angel, who was mortal.
She was spiritual, and beautiful- and I wanted to learn.
I listened in the heat of a tight chest, and anxiety stricken mind.
Her light eyes and dark complexion, were so reassuring.
Maybe she had the key to eternal peace.
It's time to delve and read - to understand and
Accept.
Accept.
The pinks and blues of the sky, they swirl.
Like cotton candy being spun on a carousel.
Whirling and twirling, and falling to the floor.
A fun and beautiful sensation, yet a headache accompanied by a stomach ache,
While hitting the floor.
Fun at first,
Leaving you breathless.
Lifeless.
Yet Zen resides within, where you grew it once.
The seed is still planted, parched and dry- thirsty and dehydrated.
Begging for water with a dry, dusty mouth.
"Acceptance is key"
Whispered an angel, who was mortal.
She was spiritual, and beautiful- and I wanted to learn.
I listened in the heat of a tight chest, and anxiety stricken mind.
Her light eyes and dark complexion, were so reassuring.
Maybe she had the key to eternal peace.
It's time to delve and read - to understand and
Accept.
Accept.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
She can only pray
And she's no longer alone,
But alone more than ever-
She wishes to go back before her love had left;
But it's the price she pays for a love so strong, with a passion so deep.
She ponders,
"Am I not as attractive?"
"Have I gained weight" - even though she knows the scale claims she's lost it
"Is she too distracted?"
"Is she no longer attracted?"
The lack of human touch, makes her soul cringe.
Her heart shakes- and her body aches.
A hand being the one and only escape.
Her love claimed that she has been angry- and distant,
But in reality the girl simply just wants to be loved, to be touched, to be unforgotten.
She knows that her love is busy in creating a life for them full of comfort and joy;
Yet the time starts to sink in... the lack of touch, creeps in.
Recently absent for five months,
An apparent grudge-
Needing to be set free like a dove from a cage.
Home for less than two, and then back at it she goes.
Lonely is a word, that doesn't even begin to describe.
No money, no fame;
Could make the absence disappear.
She can only hope that one day, it is acknowledged that she is her love's love.
She can only pray.
But alone more than ever-
She wishes to go back before her love had left;
But it's the price she pays for a love so strong, with a passion so deep.
She ponders,
"Am I not as attractive?"
"Have I gained weight" - even though she knows the scale claims she's lost it
"Is she too distracted?"
"Is she no longer attracted?"
The lack of human touch, makes her soul cringe.
Her heart shakes- and her body aches.
A hand being the one and only escape.
Her love claimed that she has been angry- and distant,
But in reality the girl simply just wants to be loved, to be touched, to be unforgotten.
She knows that her love is busy in creating a life for them full of comfort and joy;
Yet the time starts to sink in... the lack of touch, creeps in.
Recently absent for five months,
An apparent grudge-
Needing to be set free like a dove from a cage.
Home for less than two, and then back at it she goes.
Lonely is a word, that doesn't even begin to describe.
No money, no fame;
Could make the absence disappear.
She can only hope that one day, it is acknowledged that she is her love's love.
She can only pray.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Applause
"Hello friends! I'm so glad you're here!" She screams in an empty room, surrounded by white walls. She swears she hears them speaking, but it's just the echo of her own voice.
She speaks to the nonexistent crowd. They applaud her on how well she's done in the past year.
Graduating, Moving Away, and Making a Life with the Woman of her Dreams.
She smiles,
Takes a bow.
And begins to speak again, as the applause comes to a screaming lull.
She speaks of grandeur that is to be explored,
Traveling the world, and making an impact.
But she is stuck.
For the moment, in her bed,
With an empty pill bottle, and an audience in her head.
The facade continues to play on,
A stage so brightly lit,
Pressure, so delicately weighted.
To be the best, to make it to the top,
But what if the top, and the best for her are the simple things,
Seeing the world, traveling,
Maybe living on a beach... in a tent, with only a fire burning from some leaves and twigs to counteract the chilly breeze escaping as the ocean exhales.
She wants to live as the free spirit she is.
Dancing barefoot in the sand, under the starry, moon kissed, sky.
She speaks to the nonexistent crowd. They applaud her on how well she's done in the past year.
Graduating, Moving Away, and Making a Life with the Woman of her Dreams.
She smiles,
Takes a bow.
And begins to speak again, as the applause comes to a screaming lull.
She speaks of grandeur that is to be explored,
Traveling the world, and making an impact.
But she is stuck.
For the moment, in her bed,
With an empty pill bottle, and an audience in her head.
The facade continues to play on,
A stage so brightly lit,
Pressure, so delicately weighted.
To be the best, to make it to the top,
But what if the top, and the best for her are the simple things,
Seeing the world, traveling,
Maybe living on a beach... in a tent, with only a fire burning from some leaves and twigs to counteract the chilly breeze escaping as the ocean exhales.
She wants to live as the free spirit she is.
Dancing barefoot in the sand, under the starry, moon kissed, sky.
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