BottledMy life is a bottle of darkness and pain.Politeness mistaken for love once again,Put all of my fears - all discarded tears,Into the bottle for so many years.What happens then, when the bottle stands full?Does it tug at your heartstrings or carefully pull,At the stitches so crafted and beautifully sown?Or does it explode while you sit all alone?Does it flow every moment and force you to deal,With all that you thought and all that you feel?Does it turn all your memories into a mess,Does it make you forget- does it make you confess?such moments we realise deep in our hearts,before we are shattered, or were torn apart
Examine ThyselfLook at yourself with a critical eye,Peruse every weakness, examine each flaw,Dont run away, do not try and deny,All of the aspects you so often ignore.For how can you love if you hide in the dark?Preening on every kindly remark,You cant just accept the strengths that you hold,That would be killing one half of your soul.Yet you cannot live in a pit of despair,Holding each fault with the gentlest care,Massaging each weakness and hating yourself,That is just dangerous for anyones health.Bring out the flashlight and open your mind,To all that is you- You are one of a kind
I WishThey stole me,And yet your fingertips,Claimed me,They brought me back to life,I lay with you, so happily,Yet you are but a memory.How could you break me, and so callously take me,How could you cast out and swiftly forsake me?I wish you were different,I wish I could trust,I wish I had listened to those that love me so much,I wish you were smarter,I wish I knew why,Why you discarded me,Left me to cry.They used me,Like a slab of meat and yet,You felt me,Knew I wasnt just a body,I lay with you, so happily,Yet I am but a memory.How could you break me, and so callously take me,How could you cast out and swiftly forsake me?How could you steal all that is real?And leave me a shell way too broken to heal?I thought you were different,I thought I could trust,I wish I had listened to those that love me so much,I thought you were smarter,I wish I knew why,Why you discarded me,Left me to cry.You left me alone in the shadows to cry,And I never will know the sad
The IllusionYou are the illusion, you never shall end,With the cloak and the mask the truth you will bend,And with callous objections youll corrupt all you see,Until youre surrounded by all who believe.You are the illusion, you never shall fall,Their pain is your life force, their terror- your call,You swoop and you glide and you take what you need,Until they are broken, no more can they bleed.You are the illusion, the face of the damned,You steal away innocence, smite all you can,Fill them with horror and desolate dreams,Happy- you listen to each of their screams.You are the illusion, yet I have the eyes,I watch you I see whats beneath that disguise,Try taint me, and pain me- steal all that I love,And I shall ignore you, soar far above.You are the illusion, yet now none believe,They can all see you, theyre listening to me?Who will be there to take care of your mask?And your cloak- as youve failed in your task.You are the illusion; you elude
Meaningful TermsWhat is love but a meaningful word?Coupled with a kind gesture,Wrapped up elations light,Bound in tape and paper,With a pretty bow,A little card,With promise,Unwrap,Me.LiveWith me,Within lies,Coiled in pain,Captured in tears,Encased in shadow,Tied to the darknesss door,With nothing to save you this time,What is the true meaning of hatred?
Blood BrothersHe is dead on the bitumen,A corpse on the road,And no one has noticed,No care has been shown,Yet he lies there all mangled,All bloodied and torn,A friend of a lifetime,My best friend is gone.I cant bear to leave him,I cant pick him up,I miss all his frenzy,I love him so much.But hes dead and hes broken,And hes still on the road,No more than a fleabag,The best friend I have known.
CobwebsI hold myself above the storm waters,The inferno of chaos that brews within,All I hold is a tattered heart,And a rusty knife.From the caverns I hang,Watching the seas rise,They drag my form down,As I grip small strands.Knuckles white and torn fingertips,Salted cheeks, and bloodied face,How can I keep myself above the deadly ice?When my hands grasp but cobwebs