We made a pact,

You and I,

We'd always see eye to eye.

Until the day you looked up high

And used me as a stepping stone to reach for the sky.

silence speaks so loud.

nobody to talk

but

droplets of rain

oozing down

the gutters.

I'm at the window

while my tea cup

and

muddy puddles

share the same mood.

tea does taste much better

though

a soul isn't in sight.

being alone,

I love it the best.

~vinnie_writes

Nobody listened to when false charges were placed on record:

A lost little shepherd.

Didn't care when one wanted to end this existence:

Only through the power of resistance one persisted.

Wasn't about the truth when it mattered, Heart was shattered

So, listened to music/wrote/cared for self-drowning everything out. Alone.

Her name tears at the linings of my heart,

She crawls into my mind and plants herself like a unknown seedling

Muttering my own death chant I say her name

rebirth has chosen only a few and with mine I will bloom

because she has planted within me a soul

a conviction no trial can appeal

her love has claimed me and I will not ignore faith

for even a love that’s fleeting is better than a love never had but when one finds his meaning that love will never be bad.

Hey Trashed Maggie,I heard that you were bailing.

Off this site,you’re gonna sail for a while.

I’m so happy about your graduation.

Must be a great sensation!

I’m glad my poems made you smile.

And helped you get by!

I hoped they soaked up enough tears whenever you cried.

And made you feel the a thousand hugs I gave you inside!

Sometimes,you'll feel down.

Sometimes,you'll feel mad.

Just remember,this site has got your back.

And you won't feel so bad!

Thanks for following me.

I'm glad I followed you.

Please see this poem.

Know what it says is true.

Farewell for now!

Hope to see you soon.

Whether it's in daylight or by the shine of the moon.

You're a great person,I thought that you should know.

Take a trillion hugs from me,all for the road.

If it's not too late,before you go.

I just wanna say,later bro!

the rope cuts her naked waist as it lowers her into the icy water.

she floats (like a downy duck), dreaming of her dead husband's blood stained trousers. and so it begins.

after a month she is donned in a fine gray skirt (a lady's skirt)

the mens gazes (not men, monsters) hold satisfaction (not satisfaction, but god),

and her hands which cast the net to satiate starvation, which stroked her cheek; her hands which "summoned the storm," her hands which "bewitched the women," bound.

she gulps the smoke tastes it in her throat (her throat which serviced the devil) feels the flames at her hair the bruised petals (inflicted by god of course) on her body her gaze slips from the woman in the crowd she looks upwards upwards towards their supposed god he does nothing (he is a man).

but then the rope slackens. the fire dies, her hair loosens from its braid, and the other woman, her eyes aflame (the devil), raises her palm. there is no god to save her, only a human woman, the only real live witch the men ever saw (will ever see).

the rope snaps around the god-mans neck- drags him as if by horses over the edge of the cliff (as it had dragged her earlier) but this time it slithers into the water and disappears forever.

the other men melt one by one, turning into the fish that kept the women alive that winter. the gray skirt splits in two and the blushing pilgrims meet.

only the women remain next to the witch's hill, their hearts covered in softly swaying heather, their eyes watching for whales beached on the shore.

who fears the sky?

watching from above

always, infinity, inescapable

who believes in the stars?

trickling with light,

laughing in meteor streaks

who remembers the earth?

jagged silhouettes of

solid earth, flesh, brick, steel

who fears themself?

more worries than fingers,

built of steam, gooseflesh, heartbeat

who counts the days?

disintigrating into the sky,

spinning stars like silk,

breathing soot and stone,

trembling in the mirror,

grasping for sanity

and lost for words

my gears.

g.r.i.n.d.i.n.g. t.o. a. h.a.l.t.

w r e d e

o n g s

s*n*a*p*p*e*d c*i*r*c*u*i*t*s

a n d

spl it wi res

missing

memories

(shattered stories)

running & running & running

but

this

must

end

i’ll plug myself into the wall

~and hope~

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