Darker


Streams

Darker

I am pacing, pacing, pacing.

Retracing footsteps I have walked before.

Why must I be the greatest danger to myself?

Oh my reflection,

You are razors, steel, and dangerous things.

And you have become a frozen creature.

Move, I beg you. Move!

How dare you stay trapped by your own devices.

How dare you drop and ignore your own talents.

How dare you tarnish when you know you may shine.

Why do you sleep when the waking world is no longer a danger?

To sleep to dream even as your dreams are coming true.

How I hate you, only to love you.

Is it comfort or punishment that you deserve?

Oh my frightening hands,

Empty,

But only imaginary.

Filled with the intangible.

Potential. Love.

Do not forget that you were meant to fight.

To do battle with your words.

They are your greatest asset.

So why do you stay so still?

Damn you, it is only a first step.

One stumbling foot in front of the other.

Why do you hide when you know you are best exposed?

You are trapped in the snarling jaws of fear.

Ruminating.

Stagnating.

But why?

Can you change the past?

Alter time and never lose control?

Inward you scream,

Leave me alone. Leave me alone!

Yet outside you strive for a condition

So contradictory of what you have become.

After all,

Who are you if not that filthy word?

In all your passionate refusals

That you are not the victim,

You have become the prey.

Who are you if not the disease?

You thought you knew

But now that thought tears

A cynical laugh from your throat.

It is everything you want that leaves you terrified.

It is that which lets you heal what freezes you in place.

The intellectual.

The reason addict.

Yet in your shade of grey

You are irrational.

To see others as puzzles,

Only to refuse to turn

Those intuitive eyes upon yourself.

Hypocrite.

Exhausted.

Weary.

But why?

You dodge the answer deftly.

Even now your breath catches.

Do not speak of it.

Let not the whispers be answered.

Just destroy yourself in the silence.

If there is always a choice,

Why is this what you choose?

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Demons


Demons

I know that I am being told lies

But I can’t stop listening

This blade is against my skin

This noose is around my neck

And I just want it to stop

A pipedream if there ever was one

Because here comes another crisis

Taking poetic license

Turning reality

Into a tortured aberration writhing

A horror beyond description in writing

I am screaming and shouting

And abandoning resolve

Until into tears I dissolve

I sob and weep

Until I am too weak

To do anything but sleep

And in come the nightmares

Like a parade of clowns in Hell

Here come the closet skeletons

With hideous secrets from voiceless throats to tell

Close your eyes

And deny

That they exist

It will work for a minute

Until you feel their kiss

What a sweet lover is madness

They call it acceptance

I call it giving in

To the desperate hands

Clawing at my skin

You don’t just say I am broken

And that is my fate

No, if you are me

You rage

You beg

You do anything to change

Only to spiral down again

Only to feel that noose again

And loathe the sickness

That is your curse

I can never tell if the cure

Or the disease is worse

Demons


Demons

I know that I am being told lies

But I can’t stop listening

This blade is against my skin

This noose is around my neck

And I just want it to stop

A pipedream if there ever was one

Because here comes another crisis

Taking poetic license

Turning reality

Into a tortured aberration writhing

A horror beyond description in writing

I am screaming and shouting

And abandoning resolve

Until into tears I dissolve

I sob and weep

Until I am too weak

To do anything but sleep

And in come the nightmares

Like a parade of clowns in Hell

Here come the closet skeletons

With hideous secrets from voiceless throats to tell

Close your eyes

And deny

That they exist

It will work for a minute

Until you feel their kiss

What a sweet lover is madness

They call it acceptance

I call it giving in

To the desperate hands

Clawing at my skin

You don’t just say I am broken

And that is my fate

No, if you are me

You rage

You beg

You do anything to change

Only to spiral down again

Only to feel that noose again

And loathe the sickness

That is your curse

I can never tell if the cure

Or the disease is worse

The Tragedy


The Tragedy

Feathers, soft, touch my face

Angels wings.

Trees with silver leaves

willows that never weep

I take flight

Into the sunrise

Or is it the sunset?

Time has no kingdom here

The mechanisms that keep it’s pace

are distorted and melting

thier ticking meaningless

My heartbeat ceaseless

It’s as if the universe is speaking

It whispers cryptically

It echoes stunningly

Such breathless inspiration

Such desperate ecstacy

That I wish to never breathe again

I dive through this reality

Through eons, ideas, memories

Falling ever faster past the boundaries

There is no fear of my body shattering

Only the uneasy thought of enevitable landing

The most intangible golden light fills my being

It is so beautiful as to be inconceivable

Then in a moment of unfortunate clarity

I realize I am dreaming

In this melancholy moment I know I cannot stay

The tragedy is in the waking

But if this is what dreams may come

Whatever has brought me here

I beg to be brought back eternally

Glory


Glory
Oxygen reaches in with it’s ghostly hands
To touch the soft vulnerability inside
Chalk scrawled across the board
I will not lie. I will not lie.
Sadistic snickers echo in
The classroom of my head
Where the teachers are all lessons
And the students bold and undead
Taunting, cruel by association
The burden of bursting, lightning strike creation
Electricity ignites a fire
That freezes time
With flames that dance and glow
With the colors of rhythm and rhyme
Beneath a blackened sky
Where no stars exist
Replaced and disgraced
by exceptional nothingness
A keen edge slices
At weakness
Where sweet pink visions
Expose hidden innocence
Only to be decimated
By razor reality
There is a time when every blank page
fades from fantasy
Then criticism or rejection
Is an extinguished night light
And precious solitude
Is stricken from insight
Replaced by the recitation
Of plastic satisfaction
Given a new theme of devotion
Inspired by the promise of appreciation
And shoved into the harsh bright lights