Every night the piercing wail would wake me from my deep slumber
Every day I would hear the curses and the whines and the slapping of tender flesh
The negative energy welcomed the infection into my abode
I could see the skin rotting away as I was becoming a living corpse on both the outside and the inside.
I know that I exaggerate the so-called facts, because it is a symptom of my empty insanity
Things returned to normal
I started to become whole again, but I can still see the scars burned deep into my flesh, making a roadmap in my skin, showing me the fastest way to Hell
As I am trapped here in my fortress of solitude
talking to the other lonely souls
witholding my feelings and hiding myself
I thought I had longed for this simple thing
was I just fooling myself while I tried to pass for normal
I'm not really inspired to write
yet I feel I must accept the challenge
I must fight and win and devour the opposition
but there is no clear idea about what is good and what is evil
which am I?
The Challenger wants access to my soul and my secrets
My facade is strong and clear
Eventually this rain will erode my mountain of lonliness
Eventually The Challenger will know all my unrevealed demons
but until that time I shall embrace my shrouded life
The Yule begins
Dreams left unfullfilled!
Nothing accomplished!
The swirls of red and white
The clanging of bells and registers
The whirlpool of money leaves a bad taste in my mouth
I hope for a release in the eyes and mouths of strangers
I try to be myself in my fictional life
But, I am reality's whore
The cheerfull facade is well protected
But, if you look closely you'll see the cracks filled with sorrow and wisdom
Desperate and alone
I cry
The opponenets choose their sides
The cliche rages on
5,6,9. pieces
The game board is destroyed
Beaten down the loser must regroup
Slaughtered!
Dying!
Dead!
The game starts anew
Images coalesce into a new game board ripe to play
7, 12, 19 pieces
Words grow more intense
The former loser sobs
He will win!
The friend and the mate decide the outcome
1 piece wins the game
The wind blows away the pieces
It destroys the board
The war has ended
Why did she give me attitude?
What the fuck am I?
A Friend
Or at least I try
I don't think she's cute.
I didn't try to dis her
I thought his ex was cuter when she got all dolled up.
But that is just me.
Why do my opinons matter?
I'm a friend.
The money that was borrowed,
or the gifts that were exchanged.
That's when the rift started
It's been months.
Why didn't she say something sooner?
Why did she let it fester?
She returned my objects like they were infected.
Well, FUCK her!
She's nothing to me!
I don't know her
I don't owe her
I was just being my nice self
She lost a good potential friend.
It's her loss not mine.
you were all alone and I wish I was dead
Even though our relationship was never real
I still felt the pain of the thorns
and the rivers of blood welling in my mouth
I remember crying over you
I remember feeling betrayed by a word
A quick jab with a dirty word and my world fell apart
I was alone
I was angry
I was broken
Why do I feel pain?
Whis is this bothering me?
I'M STRONGER THAN THAT!
The snowfield of my bed became my sanctuary
Then, as it had done in the past, I heard the call
I once called it the seductive siren, but it was more than that
I held it in my hands and listened to it's words
"peace will be mine"
I cried until my eyes were swollen shut and my hands began to tremble
"peace, peace, peace..."
I woke up this morning with a gun in my hand
I was all alone and I wish...
they are also cookie-cutters that I see
The two varient lifestyles of the east and west
The beautiful, rich snobs
or the shabby artistes
Will I ever fit in?
Do I even want to?
My sub-par writing can not express the bitterness that I feel
when I try to be accepted
I am shunned by these "people"
Maybe I can find salvation with other outcasts like myself
Did they auction them off to the highest bidder?
Did they dispose of them unceremoniously?
Did they sell them to some second-hand store for some meager profit?
Why do I care?
I care because I fell empty; I feel a part of my past is gone.
Otto, Twynkles, Dunse, Zero...have all become ghosts disappearing in the wind.
It was a long time ago, practically ancient history...
How did I let this happen?
Is it my fault?
Who do I blame?
I moved on and tried to fill the blanks in my soul.
Then the yearning for that part of me started to ebb out of my cheerful facade.
I became obsessed in trying to find what was lost.
I thought my plight was hopeless until I saw it on the Bay
Those memories weren't mind, but they would overlap and help me reconnect.
The prize was within my grasp, but the interloper seized it before I could reach it.
After searching for years I was defeated.
Will my quest ever end?
Will I find my past?
Will I have to settle for the scraps of someone else's memory?
Will I ever be complete?
* By referring to "US", I don't mean the Country
I was greeted by the faceless, the nameless
They led me to my final destination
I wanna go home
to a place that I love
I wanna go home
but I'm trapped here on my quest
Will you take me home and teach me to feel, teach me to love, teach me to...
I told you secrets, sacred things
I taught you lessons
You told me lies
I don't mind, I still care
but I can't ever see you again
I wanna go home
to a place that I love
I wanna go home
but I'm trapped here on my quest
Will you take me home and teach me to feel, teach me to love, teach me to...
There will come a time, when I need your support
Then I'll be forced to leave
and go back where I came, in shame
I could not deal
I could not love
I could only lose
I could just die...
I wanna go home
to a place that I love
I wanna go home
but I'm trapped here on my quest
Will you take me home and teach me to feel, teach me to love, teach me to...
Time has passed
Angels have sung
And I've returned to find my love
Now I'm at home
It's a place that I love
Now I'm at home
It's where I belong
You taught me how to feel
You taught me how to love
You taught me...how to be myself
The words that once formed easily to create a landscape
now form new images of the pain I have felt.
Feelings that I thought were dormant have surfaced
making me unsure or recent descisions and dilemmas.
Should I embrace them?
Should I deny them?
I feel this is an awakening, but I laugh at the prospect of self-revelation.
What should I call this?
How should I feel?
Why do I care?
I do.
I do care.
I must sort this out.
I must accept it,
I must deal with all the pain and the consequences.
I need to survive.
I need to become...
a new version of me.
Many eons ago I begged The Night to end my solitude, but I was rejected.
I, alone had to fight the demons trapped in the attic.
I had to vanquish them and submit them to the torture that I've had to endure my whole life.
After betraying me, The Night looms over me and tries to steal my soul.
There was once a time I would have welcomed the offer, but when I begged and pleaded I was answered only by silence.
Every night, The Night shreiks. The Night begs me for a sacrafice.
It begs for my endless sleep.
Sometimes the shreiks are so loud I want to hurt myself and all others nearby.
Sometimes the Harpy, who disguises herself as a Goddess, joins The Night for a screech-fest, with her siren-like yelps.
When the day arrives I feel whole, but I know that feeling is fleeting.
The famous gun sings softly to me, but I ignore the seduction of violence.
The Night tries to offer me a melodic version of its shreiks, thinking it can control me.
Every day I feel the same.
I never see the pot of gold.
I never see the sun.
I see only me...my one true salvation.
The prose that I thought was once significant turns out to be childlike phrasings and ideas.
I was crushed.
"Sometimes a rose is just a rose"
The fascists were concerned.
I needed to express myself.
I didn't need to be consoled.
"They don't have meetings about rainbows"
My concentration is waning..
I'm losing the coherant thread of thought.
What once was will be again.
Life, Love, Lust, makes me yearn...
I need the days of a simple writing assignment.
Life was simple then...
all I had to worry about was passing for "normal".
You told me goodbye on the phone.
I still can recall all the hurt I felt and you wanted to be left alone.
Days were long and nights were longer.
I thought about you all through the night.
I couldn't forget your pretty face.
Your pretty face lit my dark gloomy night.
