you can not force

someone to be

the person you need them to be

you have to learn

to be okay with this

that there are other people

in the world

to satisfy this thirst

some people are not meant

to feel everything

and although this isn't you,

you can't blame others

for misunderstanding your sadness

some people merely sit

on the flatline of human emotion

they do not rise higher

or lower

but remain

on the same level

Completely overwhelmed

Drowning in sound

Every conversation

Stands out too loud

Voices fighting voices

Can't quiet the crowd

Heart beats too fast

And I keep my head down

Try to make my way

To the check out

The people in line

All wear a frown

Their faces are mocking

I want to shutdown

The girl says next

And it's my turn now

My palms are so sweaty

As time melts around

The counter and things

In the background

She's got my bags

But I can't find ground

Have a nice day

And I'm breaking down

Bolt for the door

And I'm finally out

The air hits my lungs

And I'm finally found

I let you in

To the secrets of my heart

Your attention

Your affection

Painted in

Beautiful strokes

Bold of color

And life

And intimate wonder

We shared

What few exchange

A mingling of selves

Of shyness

And hesitation

And love

And lust

And daring advances

Brought to the fore

By the glance of an eye

And hearts pounding

Within our aching

Heaving breasts

How odd it was

Then

To hear a stranger talk

About what she heard

Of the pitiful whore

So self-absorbed

And full of doubt

She would pour out her soul

To anyone who showed her

A tawdry mask of

So-called love

How painful it was

To know the source

Of those vicious lies

And be powerless

To speak

Nor to defend myself

Because of the feelings

That still remain

Tarnished

Though they might be

#beautifulrage #poetry

I feel it

Deep in my chest

I feel my muscles twist

Feel panic creep into my senses

I'm terrified

Of nothing

Of everything

Anxiety twists my heart

And gnaws at my soul

It makes me feel

Worthless

Makes me feel 

Abandoned

Makes me worry

Over nothing

Is it nothing?

Am I terrified 

For no reason?

I can't kill this monster in my chest

With logic

With Reason

Or knowledge

It doesn't matter

It's coming.

I can feel it rising up

Ready to twist my heart

Once again

The stranger knocked upon the door,

A creaking, wooden throb,

And someone on the other side

Unlatched and turned the knob.

Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"

And, "May I use your phone?"

The person on the other side

Appeared to be alone.

An observation taken in,

No pictures on the wall.

He pointed somewhere down the way-

"Go on and make a call."

The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled

As wires were cut instead.

The gentleman began to sense

A subtle hint of dread.

A conversation thus ensued-

"So what has brought you out?

The rain has flooded everything,

And wiped away the drought.

Say, did you walk, or did you drive?

Why don't I take your coat?"

The stranger slowly moved his arms,

A sentimental gloat.

The water from the pouring skies

Enveloped cloth and shoe.

"Say, would you like a place to sleep?

I'll leave it up to you."

The person on the other side

Discarded his mistrust.

The stranger said his tire was flat,

And shed the muddy crust.

"The phone won't work," he also said.

"It could just be the storm.

Perhaps I will stay here tonight,

To keep me safe and warm."

The patron of the house agreed.

He hadn't seen the wire.

The chilly dampness prompted him

To quickly build a fire.

"You have a name? They call me Ed.

My wife was Verna Dean.

She passed away five years ago

And left me here as seen.

I guess it's really not so bad.

We never had a child.

I loved that Verna awful much,"

He said and sadly smiled.

"No property to divvy up.

The bank will get it all.

Say, do you want to try again

To go and make that call?"

The stranger grinned and left the flame

As to the phone he strode.

Within his pocket, knives and twine

In hiding seemed to goad.

A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;

Eviscerate him whole.

The twine would keep him firmly held;

The knife would steal his soul.

A lusty surge erupted hence;

A wicked bit of sin.

The stranger hadn't noticed yet

That someone else came in.

About the time a shadow fell,

He spun to meet a pan.

The room around him faded out

As eyes looked on a man.

A day or two it seemed had passed,

And when he woke all tied,

The stranger gazed upon old Ed

Who simply said, "You lied."

Reversing thoughts, the moment fled

And Ed said in a lean,

"No worries, stranger. None at all.

Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"

He looked upon a wraith in rage;

It seemed his little lie

Combusted in a burning fit-

He didn't want to die.

So many victims in his life,

Some fifty bodies strewn.

And now he was the victim; now

The pain to him was known.

The stranger fought against the twine,

And noticed by his bed

The knife once in his pocket left

A trail of something red.

A bowl filled full of organs sat

As Verna poured some salt.

She exited with all of them.

"You know, this is your fault.

We demons wait for just the day

The guilty take the bait

And play with matches one last time-

I simply cannot wait

To taste the death within your flesh;

The venom in your gut.

So now you know the way they felt-

Hey, you've got quite a cut!"

The person on the other side

Removed his human skin-

Before his wife came back for more,

He offered with a grin:

"Say, stranger, is there anything

You'd like to say at all?"

I looked at all the blood and said,

"I'd like to make that call ... "

"Death becomes you," so she said

While standing at my door.

Covered black, the eerie thread-

"Your soul, I so adore!"

Passed from skeletal design,

A midnight robe ablaze.

Living as its own divine

Encapsulated daze,

There I stood, a drooping heart

Insisting I should live.

Death said, "No, you must depart.

So take the gift I give."

Thinking of the many things 

That I had left to do,

Losing life, the feeling stings.

"I will not follow you."

Came from me, each feeble word,

And Death just stared ahead.

"Dear, you must not be absurd.

If I arrive, you're dead.

No goodbyes, no second chance;

Beyond the worldly gate

You and I will pass in glance;

For none escape their fate."

Pausing for a tear to fall,

I pondered o'er my life.

Death consumed me in her call,

She had become my wife.

Nothing left for me to say;

No utterance to pan.

Breathing in, I made my way

And left the age of man.

Gulping down the bittersweet,

Adventure would renew.

Taking hold her hand's entreat,

I heard her ... "Death becomes you."