Tatooed on my heart, I reached too far

past my frozen moment in space.

Heard jangling voices with silken threads

surrounded by piercing beat of disgrace.

What have I done?

Layer after layer wound around my core

crooked lies and daggers of wrath,

cradled pounding head, fearful of demons

blood dripping in splotches along my path.

What have I done?

Psyche chipped at edges, cracked on border

fear lurked between each struggling breath.

I shouldn’t have killed him, deep sleep of doom

hastened his journey to reaper of death.

What have I done?

My straitjacket feels way too tight in my cell

I can’t undo what the voices told me to do

“Kill him, kill him!” they chorused in unison

And I in my psychosis followed their cue.

What have I done?

Death can’t be outrun

And my deeds of death

HAVE JUST BEGUN!

I write because I would like to live forever. The fact of my future death offends me. Part of this derives from my sense of my own insignificance in the universe. My life and death are a barely momentary flicker. I would like to become more than that. That the people and things I love will die, wounds me as well. I seek to immortalize the world I have found and made for myself, even knowing that I won’t be there to witness that immortality, mine or my work’s. I need to more than that tiny flame, flickering in the listless darkness that is soon to destroy it. No, I must share that warmth and light with others around me, and show them my world, my escape from the reality around me, my safe haven, where adventure awaits at every corner and dragons perch on top of cellphone towers. 

Forever and always, I welcome you into my world.

I don't bother fluffing my pillow anymore.

The depression in the curvature of my pillow is deeper than any sleep I've had in years. 

I lay still staring at nothingness in the dark,

because changing sides is a practice long abandoned.

I watch the night mature.

I watch as it gives birth to dawn, and then dies;

only to be reborn again.

Oh, but to me it isn't night.

It's morning without light.

Her black, silky hair.

Her ivory teeth.

I become inspired when I play on her keys.

And I like to think that my piano is inspired by me.

When I feel I can't write,

I get up at night and I tickle her ivory keys.

And then, in the dead of the night, she laughs so beautifully.

I do not want to end this song, for fear of this moment being gone.

So I play and I play, into the morning and on!

Salacious conversations,

Long into the night,

I wonder if this is the creation,

Of something that could be so right.

My heart melts and my mind whirls,

As I ponder this firestorm,

With my heart beginning to unfurl,

Still, im compelled to scorn.

How do I describe what I feel,

When I cannot understand,

How can this be real,

When I've been hurt so beforehand.

Trusting doesn't come effortlessly,

When pain has been your best friend,

Still impassioned continously,

I cannot stop this descent.

I've been late for just about everything today. It's raining. The sidewalks are crowded with people. The fact that it's raining is making them unhappy which makes me even more upset. I stop at a crosswalk and a cold rain drop falls on my wrist. It feels good. I close my eyes. I whip my umbrella down to my side and fling my head up towards the sky, startling some of the people around me. I smile, then grin, then I chuckle until I'm outright laughing, surrounded by a swarm of people. Some of the people around me are looking at me and they're smiling,too.

I don't even care that I'm now soaked.

I just smile even bigger. Because I thought, "someone, somewhere is standing in a hot, dry desert wishing that it would rain."

Is this what the world has become

A savage land of miscreants

Who couldn't give a damn about the person beside him,

Blood shed over possessions

Over material things

While blood shed from the veins

Of those slain

By the very hands of those in pain

A vicious cycle

Never ending

Those who are suppose to protect us

Are the very people who neglect us

Who murder us and defile our names

Whom we put our faith into blindly

Only to be beaten

And battered

And left out to dry

Like an Outcast

Is my life less significant

That I should be treated as such.

Bruised physically and mentally

Emotionally.

But this is the world I have come to know.

I have learned to accept death

And pain

An everyday emotion

It's normal.

This is what the world had become. 

                I say tickle me

She splashes water upon my face

                I say entertain me

She gives me life to watch

                I say shield me

She nourishes the border that protects me

                I say love me

She says look into me

                 I say care for me

She gives me courage when I am weak

                 I say teach me

She shows all inner workings

                 I say show me the light

She says wade into my essence

                 I say fulfill me

She gives all in return

                 I say tickle me

She splashes, entertains

shields, loves

teaches, fulfills

                 She, a pond

She, my mother