Old Soul

He is an old soul, once driven simply by the desire to create. Once alive simply for the creativity, for the ease and simplicity of creating, but now, he is dead.
In the dim light, covered in a thick blanket of dust and all things old he is seated, a large oak desk stained from lack of light, coated in dust sits in front of him. Directly in the center is an old typewriter, stained old paper in the ring, a ream of just as ancient paper in a neat file sitting next to it.
His final resting place for hundreds of days and nights, he sits, back slightly hunched, forearms resting barely on the desk hands positioned over the typewriter keys unmoving. His body, though not dead, is not alive, his hands once great conductors, magicians of creation, are shriveled, dead and useless for an unknown time they rest.
His body, though unalive does not suffer the same fate as his hands, for they were the instruments, the creators of stories of tales of things unknown. It sleeps, unmoving, slowly and steadily growing older, it needs no nourishment, it is alive but dead.
But now, in the dead of the night, it happens, the fingers unmoved for decades twitch, they curl, the bones and joints creaking from lack of use move.
In a Blur they come alive, atrophy forgotten, and go to work, creativity flowing, powering them as they move effortlessly across the keys, they dance along leaving just a click of the keys behind, as they begin their newest story.

What Scares Me Most

the things that scare me most, are not your typical fears. they are not the boogey man, or that one house down the street, they are not spiders, or snakes, heights or rain.
What scares me most, is when i close my eyes, your voice rings through my ears, i open them, and you are not there.
what i fear most you could not possibly understand, if i sat, and talked, and described to you what happens when my eyes close, you could not understand, you would not understand, it is a nightmare in intself.
what scares me most, are the memories i have, not the sweet ones i look to when i see something that reminds me, but the foul ones, the ones that i dare not speak aloud, for even writing them brings a cold sweat to my forhead.
what truly terrorizes me the most, is when i remember how nonchalantly you told me the things i did not want to hear, how you so easily described the things you did, and how it seemd to have no effect, when inside my soul was being ripped to shreds.
What i fear, is not knowing what is going on, not following your life, not knowing if you are in need of the help you are to proud to ask me for.
What i fear, are the things you did, the ways you did them, and the fact that i once was sure beyond a doubt, with every fiber of my being that you would never do those things but now i am not.
What terrorizes my body when my eyes close, are things that should not be there, things that time should have stolen away.
when i close my eyes my nightmare begins, although i rarely sleep, my body has found a way to betray me, it does not need the sleep it once did, closing my eyes is sufficient for the nightmares to consume my ever thought.
What scares me most, is that you still visit me, you flaunt these things in my face and every nightmare i have seems to remind me that i am not yours anymore.
That, is what scares me most.

Love and Hate

In Love.
Each blink of the eye records the moments which matter most, each breath brings reason to move throughout the day, reason to see that source of love. Each moment is cherished and seen with new eyes, each word is saved in the mind. A special bond between the heart exists, and that person, the one you see differently then the others, makes that love possible.That person is everything, that person is air, and food, and life, and that person is never forgotten.

In Hate.
The soul turns a different color, a nasty vile creature is what it becomes. It shames itself with impure thoughts, thoughts of death, and murder, regrets. It feeds on the emotions those fear, it kills and maims, it does not please. For those weak enough, it consumes, fueling a journey of weak and sad things, of horrible and disgusting decisions, insecurities and imperfections.

In Life.
Both exist.

The Funny Things.

How much longer will we play this game?

to go on with our lives like nothing has changed, is to accept defeat and begin to cope with it. But how then, can i not accept defeat? death? perhaps a sweet shallow quick fix? a quick solution to the problem? but in death there is no life, so how can i live if i decide that one day there might be hope.

Do i give in and accept defeat? a strategy i set into motion so that one day things may be as they once where? or do i realize that through my hopes and wishes i must see that things can never be, so death? or life with defeat?

regrets? or be free?

but can i really choose the latter? can i simply say i will be free, and be free? can saying the words outloud take from inside the regrets i hold already? will i be free simply because i want it badly enough? no.

though i can paint, and have become very good at telling stories, i can create my outer, because my inner is nothing, i can paint a picture to match your expectations, and weave a tale so thick, disbelief does not exist when the words lay upon your ears.

but happiness is not approachable, only imitable, it is not truly living to live with defeat, it's merely acting, a fine performance it shall be.

Her

She laughs. She listens and she watches,and she drinks and she drives. She cries.
she does the things she thinks will make her seem alive.She lies.

She laughs only when they do, and listenes not to them, but to herself, she watches the others, in their fluid unappealing manners, she drinks to alleviate the pain, she drives in hopes tonight is the night.

She lives. But she is dead, a walkin nothingness consumes her, she hides.

She realizes, perhaps a little to late, that life in it's grandest mysteries is often times considered great.

through pain painstakingly beautiful eyes she watches, she does what she assumes is expected, she lives.But she is dead.

When the pain comes, she allows it swallow her essence, to rip apart the very fibers of her heart, to shred the very threads of her mind, she wishes for closure, for acceptance, for recognition, it does not come.

She is no more than a droid, life is but a game, one she has mastered, she knows it's rules and abides them, she knows its boundries and does not test them.

She Lives. But She Is Dead.

5/21/09 - Rain

They all say it's dangerous, no doubt it is.
That even then, with all the thunder and lighting, i cant help but sit in the big couch at the front of the house, staring directly into the street.

it's raining, hard.

and even though they say the big tall trees that loom in front of the drive way, as if protecting the house from all danger, will be the first to know the sting of the lightning, i cant help but wonder, and think to myself, statistics cant always be right.

It's a storm outside, wind,and rain, and thunder, and of course ligthning. thought it is majestic, and hold a beauty of its own, i know what hides within it, past the blue and white dazzle of it's treacherous mask, danger.

They tell me it's dangerous, but i cant help feeling the need to stand, and slip outside, slowly and very sneaky like a fox, to take my chances standing in the middle of the street, where no tall trees can shield my body, where the powerful wind can whip the tiny drops of rain into me, and where thunder can boom at me from high above, as if warning that it brings danger with it's loud beastly roar.
Take my chances i think, with the powerful lightning, fast and deadly, majestic and beautiful in it's own way, and breathtakingly dangerous. i cant help but wonder what it would feel like, if perhaps on accident i were to find myself a little lost tonight, i wonder if i would feel the pain. if i would remember my deepest darkest thoughts, and feel once more before my heart exploded in my chest, a great and beautiful love.

They tell me the wind, and rain, and thunder, and most of all the lightning are dangerous, but i find the wondering most dangerous of all.

5/16/09 - I've Finally Realized

Im in love with her, but it is not you, though it may look like you on the outside, by all means resemble you on the outside, physically of course it is you, but I don't love you, my love is for her. I never realized how it was staring me in the face, they say people change, I've never believed that, but you once told me so yourself, you said that you've changed, and I turned a blind eye to it.
I see now that I was wrong and you, like so many other times were right, it is not you I love, not this person you have become, this thing you call yourself,this imposter. It was her, indeed you are as beautiful, physically, if not more, but the things I loved of you are gone now, lost or perhaps hidden deep inside, but love to me was not the physicalality of you, it was what you were made of, your beliefs, your values, your inner child, your innocence, and that,you have seen to it, was destroyed.
Its like a million pound weight has been lifted from within me, I finally realize the things one fights for when in love, only become clear with time. It was then that I would have given my life for you, though I dare say that is still so, it was then that anything you wished for would have been yours, though you would have fought me no doubt against it, it was then that you loved me equally if not more than I did you.

So I realize now, it was then that you will live in my head and my heart, it was then that you were the most precious thing I have ever known, and will ever know, it was then that I chose to love you forever, and although we have gone our separate ways, it is then that you live on for me, but it is now, that I feel I must tell you, I hate what you've become.

5/16/09 - She is The One

She is the one
The one who hides from her past
The one who puts on her facade each and every morning
The worlds best actress.
She lives her life as if her past didn't happen, she smiles when things hurt, and laughs when she feels like crying, she is sad inside, but doesn't show it. She is the one who goes through her day, thinking about her past, and the stupid choices she made. She goes on living, if it can be called that, happy on the outside, dying on the inside. She is the one who answers no when someone asks if she's ever been in love. Her days are happy and cheerful, noone is the wiser.
Her nights however, are dreadful, she dreams the past she hides so well, memories she tries to forget, not because of the pain, but because she feels the need to punish herself. She cries most nights, until she falls asleep, slow sad tears stream her face, she hides it well, making no noise, but inside she is screaming. And on those days, when she answers no, her dreams are the worst, his face fills her mind, his voice fills her ears, and their memories become hers again.
She is the one
The one that loves no more.

5/15/09 - Love Me?

On nights like this, when I get home late, exhausted, and weary, nothing pleases me more than to find you asleep in our bed. No matter how tired I am, I can't help to lay next to you, and watch you sleep for a few minutes, the relaxed look on your face, the faint smell of your perfume, puts me to sleep with a smile on my face, and only one question in my mind, will you still love me tomorrow?

On days like this, when the sky is dark, the clouds are gray, and the sun shines bright, it makes me wonder if god can't make up his mind. A gentle peaceful view, as if he cannot decide on sun or rain, and in those clouds, surrounded by the brightest sunlight, I see your face, as if god is sure of one thing, the sun shines bright, It brings a smile to my face and I know today will be a good day.but I hope that maybe you'll still love me tomorrow?

5/7/09 - Everything Is Changing

My world is changing, and not for the better. The things I once knew are gone, people, friends, family, everything isn't how it used to be. I look around and don't recognize anything the same, I fear for the future. People I once cared about are becoming filth, decisions made in the spur of the moment are affecting their lives. People I used to love o hardly recognize anymore, people I despised give me more reason to. Did I make a bad decision? Why can't I seem to be where I want?

5/4/09 - Her Book

When she got tired of all the bad things, of all the nights spent awake crying in bed, remembering the bad relationships she's had so many of, the endless days spent doubting good things, she laid on her floor with a book in her hand.

A book she'd started a long time ago when things were decent and she had hope for herself. A long time had passed since then and page after page was filled with names and numbers, each bringing back memories she'd rather forget, faces she'd long hoped not to see again, and pain from mistakes she'd unintentionally made. After what seemed like many hours passed by, time spent feeling down, saddened by the many bad relationships she'd put herself through, she stumbled, quite accidently, upon a single piece of folded yellow paper nudged in between two pages. This opened to reveal yet another name and number, this particular name and number however was very different from the rest, in that she felt saddened by this memory only because it was perhaps the only one of all that made her sad because she had let him go, he had been the one good memory of the bunch

5/1/09 - What If?

What if I cried? Where would you be with your words of comfort? What if I cut myself? Where would your gentle hands be to fix me up? What if I killed myself? Would you even care? Would you maybe shed a tear or would you just think it a shame and feel nothing else. What if I sleep, and wake up with nothing on my mind, not even you. Would you wonder where you want? And why you don't dominate my thoughts again? What if I asked you once more, to tell me you care? What if you didn't? What if I moved away without a word and never spoke to you again? Would you lie awake at night wondering where I was, and if you might be on my mind? What if you didn't care? Would I need to exist anymore? What if I felt alone? And turned to you and you weren't there? What if I still loved you? What if .........

4/26/09 - If Death

If death came for me tonight, on black winged horses of death, I would surely welcome him.
I would bow my head in his presence, and allow my soul to be takin.
If death came for me tonight, I would ask not to be chained with rusted spiked chains of torment, but follow of my own accord, slowly and with no doubt in my mind.
If death came for me tonight, I would myself clamber into his carriage of lost souls, to be takin away with no fight or commotion, I would merely seat myself at his side ready and willing.
If death came for me tonight, I would ask only one favor, to allow me one moment in time which I could erase, in exchange I would willingly endure the pain I am promised.
If death came for me tonight, I would not fear his hooded black figure, nor would I run and cower, I would tell him only this, a lovers hell is within, to love is to be tormented.
If death came for me tonight, I would smile and be thankful to no longer have to bare being toyed with by your foulness.
If death came for me tonight, I would be ready

4/26/09 - Forlorn

Up until yesterday there was hope, some faint inclination in my mind that said even though this "break" is on, that we'll still end up together. Its not the first time, that this particular brand of hope has flowed through my veins, nor is it the first time I've given up on it.
Because the things my eyes casually stumbled over yesterday morning were enough to rid me of the small amount of hope I had left, enough to strip me of any feelings I have left for you.
It is with great regret that I am writing this, because I find as I spill more and more of it into a physical state, I condemn myself to reality, I ensure that the thing I fear most is coming true.
I had all the hope in the world for us, but because of you all that's left is doubt

4/26/09 - Empty Inside

Lately I feel cold inside, even on days when the sun is up and shining bright. I feel like I've lost my motivation, school doesn't seem important, its distant, like a dream or a memory im having a hard time remembering. I wonder if it will come back, my will to live, because honestly life's dull without it.
I've been thinking of school, it doesn't seem important, its as if I don't want it, it's gotten confusing and I find myself thinking is this something I really want to do with my life? Then I tell myself to think of all the time and money I've already put into it, and how much of a waste it 0would be to just stop going.
Im not social, but that's nothing new, people interest me,but I think id rather watch than interact, close friends dissappear, again nothing new. I think perhaps a new life is something im looking for, but let's face it, that's not happening anytime soon.
I think of love and hate, and how much they go hand in hand, I feel I've lost my love, like the sense to love has disappeared from her, but im scared that if I try and fight for it back, I may instead be fighting to push it away instead. Why is it that the one thing you want the most of you must have the least of? Why is it that if you can't except that little bit then you can't have any at all? The things that matter the most to me in life aren't clear right now, I know what I want, but there's a difference between the things one wants, and the things one needs, I wish I could have a moment of clarity, I wish I could just understand

4/26/09 - A Dream

Last night I went for a walk
It was late and the weather seemed to be reflecting my emotions, as there was a terrible storm in the air.
As I've done many times before I left the house for my walk with no cover, no shield against the weather, I allowed the stormy rain and winds to beat upon me in all direction, lost in my own thoughts.
It was then that I happened upon an empty parking lot, or so I thought at first glance.
Strolling through I realized that of the few cars calling this empty lot home there was one alone that stood apart from them all,the lights were on.
At a distance I could make nothing of the scene, but upon approach I noticed two females inside, apparently alone.
Perhaps they needed help I do not know, but that is the assumption I made as I stealthily made my way closer.
But I was not alone on this night, as a cloaked figure reached my destination before I could.
Although still at a distance, I could see it was a man of fairly muscular build, poking his head through the window to ask for a moment of their time.
At once he thrust his hand into the cracked window and proceeded to claw at the women furtively.
I was there quickly, my hands grasping his coat firmly I tossed him to the side as the women came from within the car.
Upon his hunched figure I leaped, fury in my heart at the scum that would take advantage of these women.
I stood him and with furious fists began to cut down this late night attacker, from behind a kick I landed, my hands pushing him away as he began to realize this fight had purpose.
Into his open jaw I thrust my hands, prying one in each direction as if to open his roar wider, I used all my force, while yelling at the small women at my side to call the police.
With a thrust I spun him around and into a nearby tree, upon which he shattered to my amazement like a porcelain doll.
Staring at the only reminants, his cloak and hood, I turned to stare upon the would be victims of his vicious attack.
I was met by a beautiful woman, now soaked, who embraced me in a longing manner, and repeated her thanks upon me, her so entitled savior.
Even with the pelting rain and wind I could make out her lips, and I found myself longing to embrace this strange woman in what I was sure would be a kiss the likes of which I had never felt.
Instead however, she looked me directly in the eyes and smiled, a beautifully stunning awe inspiring smile, and with that I woke up from my dream.0

4/26/09 - Tell Me

Sometimes I wonder
Do I despise u? Do I make you uncomfortable? Is it something about the way iam that repulses you so?
And do not try to act otherwise, I see it in the way you are, in the very essence of your being, from the way you walk to the way you laugh, it is apparent to me that something is being held back.
But if that's true why is it that you cannot simply say "leave me alone", is it really that difficult to say how you really feel? Instead each time im around your voice changes, your attitude becomes dark, your eyes twinkle with hate, or disgust, or some other emotion that does not agree with me.
Why do you talk that way? Why is there such feeling into the way you act when im there, when I speak and move, and walk, and breathe even. Why do I see you shudder when my mouth opens to say something, why do you pretend to laugh at things that once made your beautiful smile surface? Why do you hang up on me so abruptly when we're on the Phone?
If its me please let me know, how can you go on pretending to care, or enjoy the company I give you day after day, don't you understand I can visibly see when something bothers you? Can you be so cruel to continue this joke you call adoration? Why not be true? Why not tell me how I make you feel inside? How I make your stomach turn and your mouth go dry, why do you continue to act as if I don't see the reality in your words?
Why do I continue to love you so?

4/26/09 - Itching

There is a pain in my chest, an itching feeling. Sometimes its not so bad, but when it is, I feel as if ripping the very skin off my bones would be the only cure to my affliction. Oh how it itches! If only you could see, if only I could give it away, pass it on so that it doesn't rack my brain at all hours of the day, unable to be scratched, unwilling to stop, I am not human.
You might hear me say that im hungry, but in reality I feel no hunger, I eat because this body I occupy needs the nourishment. You might perhaps run across me on a day when I yawn and exclaim how tired I am, but to be honest I do not feel the need to sleep. I am not sleepy, I am awake at all times of the day, even in the early morning hours following a sleepless night I feel no fatigue.
You see me smile and laugh but I am not happy, I do these things because it is normal to feel and to show these emotions, I do not enjoy things. You may think im dull, no hunger, no sleep, no happiness, but I don't know any better, I wish to give away this illness of mine, but remember I am not human

3/24/09 - Serenade

Each night, promptly at 11 he awakens, dresses, and attains his
instrument. He begins his walk of twenty minutes so that he is at his
destination with 10 minutes to spare, he uses these 10 minutes to set up
his instrument, and so begins the serenade.


She once was his lover, his passion, his reason to be awake and alive in
the day, but through uncontrollable circumstances she is lost, but he
cannot give up. He sings to her these nights, five of the seven of each
week, songs of love and sorrow, he weaves her vocal tales of his pain
and pleasure at her expanse, he vows to make her love him once again.
For one hour each night he pours his soul out through his words and
sweet melodies, singing to her silhouette sitting still in the 2nd story
window.

When he is finished he bids her farewell, with promises to love her
forever and ever, and with the further promises that she will hear from
him the next night.


Each night, promptly at eleven forty five she awakens, stirred by her
dreams of melodies and sorrow, she gets up and dresses in her night
gown, seats herself at her window and glances into the yard next door,
she see's him arrive and begin to set up his instrument, as he begins to
play she closes her eyes and wishes only he would remember the right
house.

3/23/09 - The Inner Depths Of The Heart

The human heart is known as the strongest muscle in the body, it is made
up of many vessels and hundreds of capillaries. But deep in the center
there exists a space, a cavity directly in the center that is hollow
inside, it is known as The Inner Depth Of The Heart.


This Space is allowed to one person in your lifetime, and only one, it
is the space allowed for your first true love, the love that is never
forgotten.

It is the reason why, when things don't always turn out the way you
hope, your first love is never forgotten. It is the reason why memories
come easily from the days when that love was new.

It Is Never Forgotten.

3/19/09 - I Wonder

What would you know about normality? About not sleeping at night, about
thoughts creeping into your mind at all hours of the day? what would you
know about normality? About being fucked up for a while and finally
putting it to rest? About fixing the problem inside and not having to
worry about it anymore?

Now What Would You Know About Pain? About a burning feeling inside your
chest, about thoughts in your head scratching and fighting their way
out until the point of physical pain? What Would You Know about
suicide? The act of taking the pain away from yourself? Some say
cowardly but what if it fits in right? Takes the pain away from your
life, but takin life away with it?

And now the strange part, what happens when theirs no pain? When things
that are supposed to hurt don't? What if you don't feel anything at all,
but go about your day like it was any normal day? Smiles and laughter
become your best friends, and you forget the things that once ruled your
nightmares.

And what do you know about revenge? About taking things that weren't
yours and giving them away? About presents meant for you and no one else
and handed out like they were free, what if you get the urge to find out
what it's like? Your brain begins to tickle and you begin to wonder, its
not such a bad idea, revenge, it soothes the pain even further, it
begins to stalk your mind each day.

Revenge erases the lies, it helps you know what really went down, and so
you smile, because surely revenge is the right choice, it negates the
other emotions, revenge is the right choice for this situation, and in
time, your actions will become clear to those who need them.

3/7/09 - Torn Apart

His skin was red and hurting, tender to the touch from having withstood
all the hot water of the shower in which he had let out everything
inside, tears mixing with water.
And now he was dressed,alone in his
apartment staring out into the quickly darkening sky, he stood and made
his way to the kitchen, hunger was last on his mind but his body told
him he needed it. He cut meat and chopped vegetables, his eyes
momentarily fixated on the long sharp knife in his hand, briefly he
considered running it quickly along his throat, but discarded the
thought.
After dinner, he made his way about the apartment mopping
its wooden floor, his eyes caught on the simplicity of the many sockets
and plugs around his home, and he momentarily pondered thrusting the
wet mop head into the socket, electrocuting himself quickly, the
thought vanished into the air.

In

the end, he decided sleep was better, more necessary given the wild
thoughts flowing through his mind. He lay and turned off all the lights
of the empty apartment, closing his eyes one last thought in mind. As
he slept, the broken shards of his shattered heart pierced his organs
and he at last slept peacefully.

2/17/09 - Dear Love

Dear Love,

I write this with
shaking hands, cold to the touch, numb with fear and filled with emotion. My
hands shake, you see, because I’m nervous, afraid that I’m making a mistake
writing this message, afraid of rejection, of pain, of failure. But I can no
longer hold my emotions within, I cannot continue to watch you from afar,
oblivious of my existence, while I am so aware of everything you do. You see I
am in love, in love with your smile, with your laugh, with the way you wear
your hair, and the way you walk to class, the little things you do are my
favorite. Your beauty hails in comparison to nothing else on this planet, I am
firmly certain that you are the most perfect thing in existence. I spend my
nights dreaming of your face, your laughter fills my mind when you’re not around.
My heart knows that I belong solely to you; it yearns for your love and
compassion, to hear the words I say to you each night before I drift to sleep.

I wish only to love
you completely, and even though each day we grow older, I want nothing more
than what most may call, puppy love, I want to love you with my childish heart,
to write silly letters in the fog my breath causes on the window, to surprise
you with gifts, flowers, freshly plucked from the school garden. I despise the
old love, the love with no affection, where everything is old and experienced, I
want to jump head first into a love neither of us knows, to laugh and joke like
school children. When I look into your beautiful eyes I see an innocence
waiting to be released, I want to grow old with you, but love you inside as if
we were each others first crushes.

And so my love, I must
bring this letter to a close, because I fear if I put to much into it may scare
you off, the last thing my tiny little heart would ever want, but I must know
before I die, a final question I must lay upon your head,

Do you like me too?

Yes [ ] No[ ]

2/13/09 - Late

She was mad, downright furious at this point. He was always on time, as
a matter of fact he hated being late. It was the first time he'd ever
been late to pick her up in the time they'd known each other, and yet
here she was, dressed and waiting for him, she couldn't help being
angry, she'd grown accustomed to him being on time, early even. But then
it went away, it had been 30 minutes, and not even a phone call,
completely unlike him. She stared out the window into the pouring rain
that battered her window, and replaced the anger with fear.


What if he was hurt? What if he'd gotten into trouble? She refused to
think that way, but couldn't help but feel scared. She had been mad at
him, how could she? He'd never been late before, this one time and she
gets angry? Bad thoughts crept into her head, and tears started to form
in her eyes, she panicked. Picking up the phone she called him, no
answer, she continued to dial over and over with no success.


He awoke with a pain in his chest, left arm numb, the taste of blood in
his mouth and a buzzing in his head. He was dizzy and dazed unaware of
where he was momentarily, the blood taste was overwhelming, he spit and
it was then he realized he was upside down. The buzzing was a telephone
somewhere, he couldn't tell exactly where, it was raining hard and he
was in his car. The seat belt was cutting off the circulation to his
arm, and his chest was on fire.


Though he tried he couldn't remember how he'd gotten into the ditch, it
was dark but he could see the white lights, cars passing. His head was
in a massive amount of pain, he tried to pull himself up with his right
and, to relieve the pressure from the seat belt, but he'd lost to much
blood. He barely managed to raise himself and became faint when he
dropped blood rushed to his head, he now couldn't not feel his arm at
all, the movement of the car from the weight of his body caused the
windshield to shatter, ice cold rainwater began to pour in, it was too
late, he could do nothing more. The water level reached his head and
that's when he knew there was no hope, he stopped struggling, his mind
went blank, the car lights passing one by one almost hypnotically
soothing. He closed his eyes, as the water reached them, he reached
again with his hand, a last chance to be free. At last the water passed
his nose, one last breath before the water enclosed his head, growing
past his shoulders struggling to breathe, and alas one last smile as he
thought of how mad she'd be that he was late

2/5/09 - Love Letter

He knew her for four years, they went out for 2 of them, he was in love for 5.
He knew from the moment he first saw her that he wanted to spend the
rest of his life with her, it was just a matter of showing her what he
already knew.

The love grew, between the both of them as he always knew it would. They
went through thick and thin, through tough times and easy moments, and
in the end they always had each other. He proposed on a cool sunny day
in December and she said yes, they were married in April.

Six years passed, 10 in total from the first time they'd been together,
over the years they had numerous happy, sad, angry, loved, hated, and
fearsome moments, but they were happy. At night he barely slept, he
would wake up with words in his head, words he was sure were due to the
fact he'd never been able to tell her exactly how he felt. He had
decided one day a long time ago to write her a letter, to express his
feelings once and for all, it sat in his desk unfinished.

Over the years he would bring it out again, one day here, another there,
for 10 years, but the dreams never stopped. One morning he woke up, went
to his desk, took out the envelope holding his heart and began to write,
last night's dream had been so vivid he was sure what to write, he wrote
and wrote until he could no longer remember the dream. He then neatly
folded the letter and placed it back into it's envelope. Went about his
day and that night he went to sleep as usual.

He woke up the next morning, no dreams from the night before, the first
time in 10 years, he got up, went to his desk took out the envelope
containing his heart, and for the first time in a long time read the
entire thing, when he was done, tears filled his eyes and a smile formed
on his face. He got dressed went to each and everyone of his friends
house to show them and each and every time he was met with the same
response, tears and a smile. He ended at his mothers house, entered with
a look of amusement on his face and when asked what he was up to thrust
the envelop into her hands with the explanation that he couldn't
actually explain it. After reading it, she wiped the tears from her face
and looked up at him, giving to him the words he had been looking for
all along, he had written the greatest love letter of all time.

He raced home to show the one true love of his life the thing he'd kept
a secret for so long, to tell her how he'd watched each and everyone of
his friends and finally his mother burst into tears at his declaration
of love for her.he burst through the door and rushed all through his
house looking for her, instead he was met with a letter of his own, on
the counter top he placed his letter, and picked up hers, within it was
a secret hidden for 10 years, he sat and read it, and when he was done
tears again filled his eyes, it seems he had written the second best
love letter of all time.

1/24/09 - Terrible Pain

Terrible Pain

It Disgusts me, it literally makes me sick to my stomach. it churns the acid in my stomach and makes bile rise up in my throat, i hate it, it doesnt seem to go away. i try and try but no matter how hard i try it doesnt seem to work, it's still there, why? why cant i stop thinking about it? why cant the images leave my head? why cant i stop envisioning those disgusting fucking pictures? it makes me vomit, it makes the skin on my body crawl, it makes me want to rip it off and throw it away, why please tell me can't it stop? i need i to, i cant take it, it's getting worse and i dont know how much longer i can take it. it hurts, its so painful, it's like a bomb exploding in my chest, like a million ants biting me all at once, burrowing deep into my brain. i cant last, im not strong enough, i cant think about it one second more, it makes my heart beat faster, and my nose bleed, it makes my eyes water, and my insides turn. i need them gone, these images forever lost, i need them away, i want to empty my mind, lose all memory of it's existance because a second longer is a millenium to long, a millenium of intense unrelenting pain, it destroys me, it wont go away, i cant stop thinking about it, i cant stop dreaming about it, the nightmares haunt me, they wake me up, they come to me during the day, im horrified to even sleep, i need to get rid of the truth.

1/19/09 - Thanks For The Memories

On his 98th birthday he wakes up in the middle of the night to eerie silence. He gets up, puts his slippers on and by the light of the moon begins his day. Over the many years he has developed many routines with which to live his life, but today is different. He showers early, with warm water, and brushes his teeth with cold water, same as everyday, careful to reach each tooth, but instead of neatly placing his toothbrush back into it's assigned spot on the porcelain plate, he leaves it teetering on the sink. He gets dressed, not his usual fashion, but a black tee shirt and comfortable pants, for breakfast he makes two eggs with salt, not minding his cholesterol or checking his blood pressure, and serves them with cheese and regular toast not the whole grain garbage he's made to eat everyday, washing it all down with apple juice which contains too much sugar. He watches television instead of tending to his garden or reading his newspaper, it is the afternoon now, and his family has come over to celebrate, carefully but surely he enjoys his party, eats his cake, two pieces this year, and opens the few gifts he is sure were bought last minute. When they leave he makes his way into his room, and carefully looks under the bed for a box he has not opened in some many years. Placing it on his bed he gets dressed for bed and settles himself in, retrieving from within the box a leather bound book, wrinkled and dusty with age, as he himself is, he opens it and begins to read. The book is filed with page after page of memories he has written down over the years for a day like today when he might have trouble remembering. His first bicycle, his first car, his parents anniversary, his highschool sweetheart, all living away in the words captured within his self written novel. Memories return to him as vivid as the day the occurred, and he laughs here, and sheds tears there, but in the end, he is reminded in his own scroll, that although life has been good and it has been cruel, his best memories were made with the most special person in his life, and just after the last words he has written, occupying its very own space in the middle of its very own page are words not written in his writing, but in hers, "Thanks For The Memories". And with that, he turns off the light after glancing at her picture one last time, lays down in the bed he has slept in all these years, and closes his eyes one last time before he can be with her again.

1/14/09 - Reality

A crescent moon hung in the sky casting an eerie glow of blue light over the yard.
Stepping from the shadows with a box under my arms I made my way in the blue darkness, the night was hot with a still wind that made the stale air seem particularly obnoxious. Not unpleasant but not catering to anyones wishes, I walked my way through the uneven ground walking back further and further until at last I could glance back and barely see the house that sat in the darkness. I drop to my knees and with my hands begin to dig, deeper and deeper until the
sweat sticks to my back, and my hands are completely covered in dirt.

The hole is ready, but im not, I sit on the edge wondering if this is really the only thing left to do, I open the box and stare into it, my eyes scanning it's contents, drops of sweat escape into it as I close the lid with a heavy sigh. I place the box inside the hole and gently begin to cover it with dirt, covering it completely, I stand, sweat and dirt falling. I turn and walk away exhausted having just buried my hopes and dreams.

1/7/09 - Fear

Fear

When she called him he knew right away something was wrong, something in her voice when she said hello and asked if shed woken him up made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.
When he arrived at the park, at the exact spot they had shared a loving afternoon once at a time so far ago, and and she came to him from within the shadows, his heart broke all over again. The way she told him of what the other man had done, of how scared she'd been, filled his broken heart with pain. She cried and the salty tears burned away at the cuts and bruises on her face.
When he sat her in his car and began to drive she placed her shaking hand into his and held it tight, so tight after a moment it went numb but he said nothing and she didn't let go until they arrived at his home, and even then only after several moments of his assurance and several more promises he would take her hand again in just a moment.
When he gently washed her face, and cleaned her cuts she wept more and her body shook, he changed her clothes into some of his own, his favorite shirt she'd always loved a pair of pants she'd left a while ago, and layed her into bed.
When she told him she was scared he would come back, that she should hide, he promised her nothing bad would ever happen, he sat in front of his door and promised he wouldn't let anyone in, he watched her fall asleep as he did the same.
And when she went to sleep, she wondered why she'd ever let him go, the shaking stopped, she relaxed, and went to sleep feeling safe and sound.

12/29/08 - Last Night

I Dreamt Of You Last Night

And in my dream you took me by the hand and sat me down. We were alone, and you began to speak, on your face I could see you were preparing yourself for something hard. You conversed with me a while, of the past, of the present, and you thought to yourself perhaps you should not tell me, but you did.
With your sweet voice you uttered to me words which gave me passage into your mind, and with that path you lead me into your soul. But those sweet words were tainted, and soon enough the grief on your face and in your heart took form and turned to weapons, weapons which attacked my very being.
You began to weep and the tears that emerged broke me free from my catatonic state, your apologies for your mistake would not sink into me, I could not bear to picture the words you threw at me. And so I too began to weep, in your mind all you wanted was my forgiveness and all you saw were my tears of sorrow for the pain you were feeling. But inside me a pain emerged also, not for you, but for me, because although words could not describe how horrible you felt for your actions, they could also not describe how horrible you hurt me with your news.
I dreamt Of You Last Night,
And In My Dream You Murdered My Soul.

12/19/08 - Wounds

To the one who got shot


He stood in front of her, waiting, willing to die. And the bullet
pierced his heart, in and out, and took her away from him. He lived. It
was his fault, he had not done all he could have, he blames himself.


Each night he relives it, the moment his life was destroyed, when she
was lost. The scar that formed over his heart reminds him each day. But
it isn't enough, as the years go by the pain increases.


365 days pass, and he awakes dull, the only night of the year when
nightmares don't haunt him. He gets up to her favorite breakfast, to the
scent of her favorite perfume, the memory of her favorite things.


He visits her favorite places, spends all day in the places she
cherished most, listens to her favorite songs. But things must be
remembered, so at night, when no one is watching, he walks into their
room, knife in hand, and lays on her side of the bed, he closes his eyes
and carves deep into the scar on his heart releasing warm sticky blood
all over himself.


His eyes open, then close again, he falls asleep to the nightmares,

counting down 365 days, when he must make himself remember again.

12/6/08 - Pain

Today I cut myself,
It hurt,
But along with the pain came an unexpected fascination. As I watched the blood slowly flow from my hand and make its way down through my fingers moving with the steady sureness of a flowing creek, it began to grow cold and numb due to the life source once familiar to it escaping onto the floor.
Bright red sticky fluid leaking onto the floor draining my arm of feeling, and yet something about it was hypnotic, so I cut myself again, and felt the wound burn for a moment before becoming numb and cold like before. As I slice into the other hand the pain becomes less intense, another cut, but it isn't enough.
I go to work, cutting away until the pain hurts no more, a pool of blood lies at my feet as my heart races, pounding furiously in my chest. Further up my arm I begin to cut, furiously slicing away at the pain within, trying to reach it, trying to replace it, trying to calm its fierce hold on my insides.
and then I stop, breathing hard looking down and around at the blood, spattered all around, dripping from my fingers onto the floor, staining my shirt, coveting my hair.
I take a step, and numbness floods my body, I feel my heart slowing down, I move to turn, and gravity commands me down, I hit the floor hard
Gazing into the ceiling, I feel my heart stop
And death brings darkness to my eyes

11/17/08 - Charisma

Charisma

He fills his heart with hate, as he lies in his bed in the dead of the night all he can do is rage. He thinks over and over of everything that has happened and he draws on the conclusion that all that is left to do is hate, pure rage fills him and he lays in the darkness of his room, confined to his thoughts and memories.
He reaches up, placing a heated hand on the window pane, momentarily taken aback by it's utter coldness.A moment passes, as if the cold has penetrated his body and robbed him of his inner feelings he begins to feel the anger subsiding.
He stands, slides his shoes on and walks into the darkness, his house is quiet, it is late and all are sleeping, he makes his way through the darkness to the outside, a cold chill stabs at his face.
He begins to run, harder and harder he pushes into the cold chill, breathing hard against the night's life. He collapses onto the ground, rolling over staring meaninglessly into the night sky, clouds pass and the moon's light dance's across their weightless form. His eyes close and open, her face stares back from the clouds, his eyes close and open, she is gone.
He Returns home, cold on his clothes and skin, he lays down, closes his eye's and dreams of the future.

11/8/08 - Dreams

He Wakes abruptly, in the darkness he cannot remember where he is.

He makes to move and finds he cannot feel his left arm, feeling around in the darkness he begins to realize where he is. The uneasy tension dissipates and his breathing slows.
Once his eyes have adjusted to the momentary blackness he searches the area around him for the remote control, he mutes the television and changes the channel. Light fills the room with eerie static silence. Using his right arm he gently lifts her sleeping body off of his left arm and eases her gently back down onto the couch.
When the feeling returns to his left arm he stands, his watch tells him it is late, he should not still be here. He turns and lifts her gently from the couch, resting her head on his shoulder as he makes the way in the darkness to her room. Gemtly opening the door he makes his way toward her bed, laying her gently he tucks her in and makes sure she is in a comfortable position,a kiss on her forehead as he tells her he loves her and he turns to leave, closing the door behind him he makes his way to each room, checking on the rest of the sleeping family.

When he is certain that everyone is sleeping he gather's his belongings and heads for the door, turning the television off as he heads out he stops short, turning back he turns the small lamp in the kitchen on, remembering that the little one is afraid of the dark. Slipping out of the front door, he locks it with the key he has slipped off of her key ring, telling himself he will return it tomorrow when he see's her next.
Getting into his car he let's it roll down the driveway before finally awakening the engine, leaving the lights off until their path is away from the house. He sits there for a moment, thinking of the evening spent with her, solely watching movies and just being in her company, he begins to drive.

Miles away, he awakens with a start, sitting up he realizes he has had the dream again. He lays down, closing his eyes and soon he is sleeping again. Meanwhile, at the house he has dreamed of, a girl turns over in her sleep,tucked in comfortably and a smile forms on her lips.

10/16/08 - Harmless

Words today are not used as they should be, everything is ugly and bitter when we should be using them to describe the most beautiful things in life. What happened to the days when words were used to show emotions other than hatred and violence? For me, those days are still alive.

I loved you, more than you could ever know. But I understand that it was I that messed things up, I take that responsibility to heart. The pain I caused you is unremoveable, but know that if possible I would make it dissappear, you may put aside the fact that I care only for your best interests, and fill your heart with anger and rage, but it will not dissuade the feelings in mine from taking place. On many occasions I told you sweet things about yourself, of how I cared and loved the way you lived, and now through the deception I have caused you have chosen a different path in life, one without me in it.

Today I am alone, without you in my life and no one to blame but myself, and yet if asked at this very moment, if those thoughts of you I held when we were lovers are the same, the answer could only be yes. In my eyes you will never cease to be the most beautiful thing this planet has ever birthed, a truly perfect angel living among a world not meant for you, if beautiful words are for beautiful people I find myself at a loss to find perfect words for you. I find my heart is now empty, but re-birthed each moment your memory comes to rest in my mind.

So this WAS your love letter, now It's just proof that I once existed.

9/30/08 - Traitor

Traitor, the only thought seemingly burned into his head as he ran through the streets. He could not beileve where he was, that he was running away from someone he once knew as family, as more than family, a brother, a cousin, a friend, all were once the thing he ran from now. Faster he ran, a stitch began to form in his side as the cold sweat cut trenches into his skin, he ducked away into a dark alley. Cold sweat flooded his body making his clothes stick uncomfortably to his back and chest, he pressed his back hard against the brick wall and stopped breathing, his ears strained, listening for any and all sounds. After a moment nothing comes, he peels away from the wall and lets out a deep breath, something lands on his shoulder, a pebble, he glances up to stare at the dark sillhoutte staring down at him from 7 stories. He takes off, fears replacing the blood in his veins it spreads with each heartbeat being pumped throughout his body. Faster and faster down the alley he begins throwing anything and everything he can behind him, running madly screaming bloodcurdling screams that make even the hairs on his neck stand up, he is afraid. His life is his most pecious possession at this point, the stitch long tearing away at his rib cage, he is sure death is imminent as he kicks the nearest door, a failed attempt, three more tries yield success. Down the stairs and to the right, eyes wide and fearful he glances over his shoulder as he runs, he doesn't see him, to early to stop. Down he goes as his foot collides with the solid mass that is garbage, the fall expels all air from his body but still he manages to get up, blood drips down his now bleeding hand as he takes deep breaths before standing erect ready to run. Darkness surrounds him, his breath leaves him again, scared his eyes race all directions hoping to catch a glimpse of the empeading evil, bleeding hand raised he takes a step and is met with a pain he has never felt before, sharp and intense it feels like a raging fire burns between his shoulder blades. He is lifted up, causing more pain to fluctuate, a cold bony hand grips tightly to his throat, crushing the air within and preventing the screams his mind pushes forward. He kicks and thrashes each tiny movement seemingly turning up the heat of the fire burning between his shoulders, the bony hand tightens its grip on his neck and his legs go numb, he cannot feel them. A move of the frail thumb and his body becomes cold, freezing cold in an instant yet the pain never subsides, tears roll from his eyes burning his flesh with their warm moisture, every ounce of mental power is trying to force any sound from his mouth, to stay silent is to be defeated. He is lifted higher, finally as if by miracle voice returns to him, a horrifying scream bursts free from within the depths of his body, clear and ice cold it cuts through his own body raising hairs all along his body and makin his arms 2 go numb with fright. With no apparent effort he is lifted even higher, immediately the dark sound ends, he makes to speak and is forcefully tossed 10 feet into the air, he hits the wall hard and slides down. Though he cannot feel the pain he knows all limbs are broken, lying contorted on the dirty basement floor he tries to use the last of his failing energy to see his traitorous murderous monster from hell, the dark shadow comes closer, tears flood his eyes as if they kno they should not witness what is to come, shadow turns corporeal as feet form infront of his eyes, they kneel and the figure lowers itself, his eyes widen as from nowhere he reaches the energy for one last death defying scream for help, they focus on his attacker, there kneeled in front of him is the family he once knew.

8/15/08 - They Say

They say, that in death your fate is truly decided. that in the moment of death all your lifetime is judged and your destiny is provided.If life has been good to you then you prosper, your outcome is great, and eternity is filled with bliss and you are happy. But They also say that if your cruel, and your life has been spent in spite against others, carving a way for depression and making other's lives horrible and more troubling, that your fate isnt as kind as others.

A place where no imagination is too great, where fear is known to all, and no one escapes it's cold, dark grasp, is the fate rewarded to those of cruel nature. Death is no escape from such a place, where eternity is too long, and horror takes every form, where fear seeps into your very bones and chills your never beating heart while flames lick and and devour the flesh of your body. A Place where no one has a face yet all are easily recognizable, different from all by the sins which manifest themselves onto a cold corpse long ago forgotten.

But still there is a place, where one can go if and only if life is pure, where heat comes gently, lapping at flesh gently like water flowing slowly towards the land. Where happiness overcomes all and life continues on through death, where beauty rains over all and no one dominates the land, where all are equal and all are remembered, no one is forgotten, no one is excluded, no one is alone.

Deep in the darkness that though alone is enough to cause severe pain, the knowledge that somewhere there are others being loved, in peace, remembered always by others whose fate is the same is reminded to those with no hope of ever reaching this place, to those whose soul is tarnished and tainted, to those who face the loneliness among others, who deserve it.

And so They say, that those places are real, and that fate is decided the moment death occurs, enslaving the soul to an eternty of happiness or pain, They say the choice is dependant on a life of dedication, They say the lonlyness is what hurts the most, what drives the death further into your soul,

I pray i dont face the Lonliness, i Pray in death, I am Remembered.

6/21/08 - Music

Two steps out of the room and he stops, in his ears the headphones rest, on his doorknob the cable is entangled. fixed, he walks out of his room, kisses his mother goodbye, music blaring.keys in hand he walks through the door out into the world, not hearing his mother call.

The engine starts, he backs up and drives away oblivious to his mothers frequent rants. steadily cruising the music gets louder,unable to hear the horns beeping and cars passing him by as he makes his way toward his destination.

He cuts someone off,a smile makes its way onto his face as he continues to drive unable to listen, music is his life. it flows through his veins as real as his blood it fills his head with knowledge unbeknownst to anyone but him, it's as if music lives only for him, and he lives only for music.

In Class he listens,not to his teachers, but to his mentor's.people he's never met, people he only knows in his world, a world filled with music.

He ignores all sounds, disregards all other noises, anything that can get in the way of his music is evil.rarely is he seen without his headphones, rarely is he not within his world,his sanctuary, his realm of peace.

But wait,the car is parked, he steps out.sure enough the music is in his ears, he enters this place, lost for a moment until he sees his destination,he makes his way, through unheard sounds, unnoticed noise made by these things around him.

And now he sits, head down, his hands reach up and pull the headphones from his ears, he listens to unfamiliar things as he becomes accustomed to this sudden barrage of audio flood. He looks up into her face, and smiles.

6/5/08 - Old

Old . . .

From inside his house he stares out into the world, relaxed and enjoying his view on the world oblivous to him. He stares specifically interested in the view across the street, a young female catches his eye, as she sits on the park bench alone with the book in her hands his hands begin to close. Caught up he barely notices the older gentleman who interupts her quiet reading, perhaps asking for the time, or maybe for directions, he is only there long enough to have asked a simple question of the sort. Now he is on the edge of his seat, fascinatin in his eye, millions of thoughts caressing his mind as he stalkingly follows the older gentleman with his eyes. Slow moving and careful he makes his way through the park, back at home he is inches from the window, eyes glued to this figure. A Frown forms on his face, he glances down at his hands, turning them over infront of his face as if exploring for the first time. His hands are steady, the skin is smooth and he can see the thin bumps of veins on the back of his hands. He glances up in time to see the older gentleman gently seat himeself at another conviently placed park bench. From the window he can see the gentleman rocking slowly in his seat as he begins to read a book, the frown reappears. He looks up at the mirror on his desk, examining his facial features, intrigued by what he finds, enthralled by the details he has never noticed, he glances back at the park. A Blue bird has landed on the bench next to the older gentleman, it is unmoving, fearless, relaxed, he begins to wonder, "Why does it not move? how is it so calm?" it dawns on him. He sits back comfortably in his chair, head rested on the back of his seat, his eyes close and his fear of growing old is substitued with a smile, he falls asleep to dream about the day far into the future when he will understand the knowledge life brings.

5/24/08 - Unworthiness

Unworthiness

The sting of watching eyes summons distraction from her comic book, she glances up, gazing around the room. satisfied she lowers her head and resumes reading her comic book intently, the feeling of being watchined dismissed.

He looks up slowly, staring past the open laptop screen at the wonder before his eyes, beautiful. breathless, his heart jumps at every move she makes, every time she breathes his heart pounds madly.he stares at her with love, hidden across the room he knows he's unworthy,she deserves better. unmoving, his eyes stay trained on her, absorbing every move, watching every second she is in his presence. he dreams of the day he can tell her how he feels, wat he needs, how he belongs to her and her only, his subconscious dives into the dream world he has grown to adore, the world where she is his, the world where he is her's where they are together.

Snapped back into reality his eyes focus, shes's gone! gazing around he see's her, heading towards him. paralyzed in shock, awe, amazement, she was coming towardss him, could he tell her? thoughts racing, joy filling his heart, he could not breathe. pure excitment held him in place, kept him unmoving in his seat, hands sweating, heart beating hard, waiting for the right moment.

she walked past him, hair gently caressing his face as she continued onward, not giving him a second glance, not knowing who or what she was missing. He felt her hair, cherished her touch, even if only for a moment and he inhaled the lovely smell of sweet strawberry fragerance she was doused in, the door closed, a small gentle smile formed on his once thin lips, and his heart stopped beating.

3/26/08 - He Remembers

He remembers, sitting alone in a dark room he stares into the abyss, running his hand across the scars over his heart. he remembers, he lays his head back against the wall and is engulfed in a memory, he sees her running towards him, throwing her arms around him, gripping him tightly, embracing him in what any other day would be called a hug. in the distance he sees her, hugging another man, a quick embrace and then its over, he lets go and walks away as she turns and walks toward him standing there being embraced by this woman. he knows, he releases her from this unfamiliar grip and turns, becoming deaf for the moment, alone he walks away unsure of what he has just witnessed.

He remembers, now he stares out the window, darkness enveloped in the sky he stares at nothing and everything. now he’s in a crowded room, he hears people talkin vividly, conversations dying and being born and yet he can make nothing out, and then, there she is walking steadily towards him, in her hand is an envelope. he remembers, the letter lies on the floor forgotten, its contents burned into his brain, he remembers, numbness in his hands, in his heart, and his eyes close. unmoving, he sits there, eyes closed, alone in the dark becoming one of its many victims. presently his eyes open, he stands and leaves the room being swallowed by more of the night and its eery darkness, he walks, with no destination in mind thinkin about her, he knows shes tainted,unpure and changed, and he accepts it, he walks and he remembers.

3/10/09 - Mistake

Gentle water runs down, conceiling them before anyone can notice. but lying there, darkness engulfing the room, there is nothing to keep them from being seen. silently, they arrive, without warning they spread like wildfire, he is silent. he makes no noise and allows them to continue, time slowly ticking away at the darkness in the room. tears glide down silently leaving scarred tracks down a warm cheek. he makes no noise, laying silently thinkin of what he'd jus done, of how he had been mistaken, of what he had lost.

Normally he does not cry, it does not matter to him, he has no simpathy for such small matters in life, its a game.She, however, was something else, he knew from the begenning that she was different. how he'd done her wrong,he lay awake wondering what it was about the situation that bothered him so much, he lied every day without care, it was natural, a defense mechanism he'd acquired a long time ago, but this wasnt defense.

Two deep stains collect on his pillow as the tears flow freely, he'd never cried over someone and it was a strange feeling. he missed talkin to her, missed her voice, missed her smile, her laugh, he missed everything about her. in the end he knew it was best, his heart told him so, he let the tears come because they needed to, they cut into his cold skin as they slid down slow and gentle. he was sad and pain filled his chest, he knew she did not want it, but he was convinced it was right, he felt sorrow and anger at the dawning notion he had drawn, all the pain he went through amplified by the simple answer to the terrible truth he had layed before him, he was in love.

2/13/08 - Hit

They stared at each other for a long while, they kney the hate was there. Each knew what they'd been through and each knew it was seemingly unforgivable, they had an undersanding. Tonight was different, it was a warm night, where the win stood still and rumors of rain spread through the warm night air. He was with her, and it was understood that they were together, but he knew the truth, they stared at eachother for a long while.

Finally one spoke, "its time this is done with, too much time has been spent avoiding the unavoidable" exending his hand to embrace the other he said "its over, no more hate" smiling the other placed his hand into the extended hand and gripped it tightly, clearly visable was the joy and relief the news of the end of the hatred brought, "im glad" were the only words he spoke. turning away to leave him smiling he walked away, sure that the other had understood no more hostility between them.

He smiled now, thinkin of the afore spoken conversation, he made the call and placed the hit anyway.

1/5/08 - Escape

In a place where sound does not exist, there is a place where no one ever goes.

In this place there is a castle made of stone that once helds kings and now stands forgotten less the souls who once dwelled upon its halls.

There is a room closed cept for a crack the door makes before shutting out the world, in this room there is a man.

This man is held here by his sins, guarding him from paradise elsewhere in the world.

He does not age, his sins imprison him until the moment their debt is finally paid and he is destined to be free.

His thoughts wander, cursed with never dissapating sanity he is aware of every moment in his hell, and recollects his past so devishly done.

unmoving he lays there staring into the abyss where sunlight never travels, each second darkening his chamber and his hope for freedom from this hell he knows so well.

Time passes slowly, slower for one with nothing to lose. He waits. surely death will be his freedom? closing his eyes he lays unmoving, thinking of evil times past, wishing for death to release him from this world a faint smile on his lips, the first in a long time.

4/10/07 - Epitaph

Johnny"One Tear" Jones

My life was never lived the right way

Since I can remember my life has been consumed with crime

They called me Johnny"One Tear" Jones and I was a crook.

Every life I took I took with no remorse, but with each death a single

Tear always dropped from my right eye, giving me my name.

I never cared for no one and I could never stop the tear from coming

It flowed naturally as if my eye mourned the deaths I made.

My life changed the day I met her, I was a crook, a thief, a cheat

But she didn't care, it didn't matter. We were wed and I finally learned to love.

And then she broke my heart.

I walked in on her and her cheat, all we'd been through thrown away.

I listened and watched unbeknownst to anyone, I felt a pain

I knew I'd caused many times before.

I pulled my piece and took my mark, shouting "it's over! You're done!"

In the scramble to flee I fired my piece BANG! BANG!

I never missed, "to love and be loved" I thought, turning the piece to myself

I looked at her body lying lifeless on the floor, lying like a rug.

And a single tear escaped my left eye

Molly Mae Jones

I loved my husband, really I did.

My mother raised me to be a lady, polite and always using proper grammar.

But some where along the line of growth I realized I had a serious attraction to deviants.

One night while prowling a bar I noticed a man, all others seemed to fear.

I had an immediate attraction; it was like metal to a magnet.

He was a crook, a thief, a cheat and yet I wanted him.

We talked and ended up married, I truly loved him.

But I had a history I had never told him, real lady I was but I had

A history, a history of irreleverent hookups.

That night at the bar I met another man whose name I didn't catch.

Much like the night I met my husband this man seemed to be feared by all around him, I Was infatuated, I wanted to be with this man but I knew it was wrong and loved my husband dearly. A few drinks and I was feeing good, happy with the world like a man full after his favorite meal. I found myself leading him back to my room, I knew it was wrong

But this man seemed right.

Before I realized what was happening me and him were interlocked in a passionate sin.And then I smelled it, his cologne.

Looking up I realized my husband had walked in.

Standing no more than 10 feet away his favorite gun in hand I though to myself "this is it"The first words out of his mouth tore at my heart "it's over" I knew he meant our marriageAnd my life. I stumbled to get out and heard the first BANG! Looking over I saw the man deadAnd knew I was next, the bullet tore through my heart, he never missed I had learned.

Death approaching fast the last thing I saw was a look of true sadness upon my lovers face as he turned the gun to himself.

Sarah Silver

I always followed my master, never leaving his side.

He bought me, cared for me and took care of me; he treated me like no other.

My love for him was unconditional, similar to a new born baby and his mother.

He was a crook no doubt but it didn't bother me, any crime he committed I was by his side.His partner for life, together forever.

I was with him the moment he met the love of his life, I knew it was true love.

My happiness soared like an eagle in the sky, I was glad my master had found love.And then she broke his heart.

My master couldn't but I hated her, I hoped the worst for her

Because she had hurt my master.

We both listened and watched as she broke their vows like a fine china plate dropped from a tall building, as we watched I knew what had to be done.

I saw the fear and nervousness in her eyes as she stared at the barrel in my master's hand.I hated her for the pain she caused my master.

I pulled back and watched, felt joy, I killed the person who had once caused my

Master joy and now caused him pain and I felt no remorse.

Unfortunately my master chose me for the task of ending his life; I did as I was told.Days later I found myself in police custody, on the death bench.

I hear the fires roaring ready to consume my every fiber, as I'm walked to my death I have no regret. I loved my master and was always willing to die for him.

I see the fire now, and feel no fear. I stood no trial.

After all there are no trials for a man's favorite gun

3/8/07 - Worries

They say the most important things in any relationship are trust and honesty, and if u lose those its def hard 2 get them bak.

i did sumthin once that i didnt think was a big deal, till moms found out and told me i had lost her trust.im still not sure if i got it bak completely, cuz she still looks at me wierd sumtimes. . . im not sur how long it wil tke because its been asmot 2 years since the thing did.

but this isn't about my momz, thas 2 show that no matter how long ago things are u dont forget them...this about sum 1 else, sum 1 different.

sometimes i think about what shes sayin, she doesnt kno though cu i play it cool like nuthin wrong.i remember the last convo we had b 4 it happened 2, before she made everything change. because when u do sumthin fuked up like that to sum 1 u care about u lose their trust, and like me if they deal they never completely believe wat u tellin em afterwords.u look at em different afta and deep down u hav a hate 4 em, cuz u kno u neva wulda done sumtihn fucked up like that 2 them.

idk if i loved her more or if she even cared for me at all, but i kno i cared 4 her and i wulda done anything to show her that. i wulda been betta than all the dudes she eva been wit, or the dude she wit now. because i wulda cared for her and i wulda loved her and givin her anything in the world. because i kno he dudes she been wit are dicks, no better way to describe them, and a girl like her she deserved sum 1 who wuld love her and care for her and treat her how she shuld b treated. and i say deserved because i dont kno if i feel the same way about her now, i dont kno if i realy truely want her 2 find that special someone.maybe i want her to suffer a lil first, so she can now wat it feels like.

after it happened i wuld wonder if when we talekd she wuld tell me the truth, and while she talked i uld wonder and htink about stuff. i no now that she doesnt hav my full trust because i cant talk to her like i use 2. i used 2 think culd tell her anything, but now i kno i can never do that. when u care for someone u care for them, and u ddont do FUCKED UP things.because u thnk about it, and u realize it's not rite and that it will hurt them.but she didnt, she had her own selfish thoughts and acted and fucked things up forever.because now i dont look at her like i used 2, in an affetionate way, in a way that said i wuld giv u the world if i culd, now i hardly look at her at all.we dont talk mch either,it ccan never be how it used 2 be because she fucked up, and the guy shes with now, i doubt they'll b together long.beause i kno how most guys are, and even if she is beautiful, even if she has beauty like almost no other, and even if she has all these things that any 1 culd love, a guy is a guy, and most of them dont realiize what they hav.

i wwulda ben perferct for her, some one she neva wuld forget.because i wulda treated her how she shuld hav been treated, like a female, i wuld have givin her respect and love and all the other simplistic and materialistic things in life she culd hav ever wanted. but like i said, i wuld hav treated her how she shuld hav been treated, becasue i cant love her like i used to. i cant feel for her the way i once did, because to talk t her wuld bring memories of what happpened bac to me, and i kno i wuld hate her for doing it, but i also kno that she doesnt feel anything, she doesnt regret doing what she did that selfish time in her life, because shes with him now. but one day hopefuly she'll realise what she did, and i want her to hate herself for doing it, becaause thats what she deserves,thats wat they deserve. . .

12/5/06 - What Is It You Want

i mean you say all u want is someone good, but i mean i loved a girl once, enough that I would sing to her (no matter how shitty my voice was) and i would write her bed time stories and tell her everyday that i loved her and wanted to be with her i told her how much she meant to me and she told me the same
and it was good. And then one day one of her friends told me she was going wit sum other nigga behind me, because we had got into one argument. One argument out of like 6 arguments we'd had in 6 months of going out.
i guess loving her and doing all those special things and treating her right and respecting her weren't enough for her. Guess she needed more than that. So a friend told me once, that not all girls are like that. I used to think that when I met her, I thought she was the best thing in the world. an angel sent from heaven to make me happy like god wanted me to have her and love her and treat her right and care for her but I guess i was wrong, she was an angel a dark one and that's that. But my friend wasn't totally wrong, there are a few girls I kno that are worth the time, they really are special. And one day they gon get they dudes and they dudes gon love em and treat em right. And if u reading this, and thinkin wat a soft punk ass nigga dat writin this. Than u can choke on a dick and die, cuz I don't giv a shit, I treat ladies right and thas that. . .and if somehow this gets under the eyes of the girl Im talking bout (she kno) then all I can say is. Good job. Hope ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />ur happy, cuz I still love u and im fuckin pissed because of it. But is all good you'll realize later wats really good. . . . .

4/20/06 - My Place

theres a place i go to sumtimes, no one else goes there.its a place in my mind, i hav a theory everyone else has a place like this.no one else is ever there but everyone is always present.

i like to go there to think, and to check things. it sorta keeps me sane, as sane as a place culd keep sum 1 u culd say.

ive had this place 4 a while, a few years now.it helps sumtimes when i need to think things out, its right past my happy place and right before my angry place. i dont hav a name 4 it but its there and its empty but full. this place has seen more of me than anyone in the world, it knows my every thought and my every emotion. this place is better than all my other places because theres a door in this place that leads to my memory place. but not my whole memory place my extreme emotion memory place, the place where i keep my memories of extreme pain, and pleasure, and hurt, and vengance, and everyother emotion ive ever had that is considered an extreme emotion.

lately ive been to this place alot, which 4 me is not normal.its seen me wonder alot lately about the choices ive made recently and in the past.i know i cant change them, but ive been thinkin of the choices ive made in the past and in the recent.

i regret sum things in my life, to many to sit here and list, but im also glad of sum of the choices ive made.people think they know u but they really dont, inside ur totally diffrent and the same, a more complex person. i know 4 the people reading this(the ones im close to anyways) it'll probly make u think "damn he's dumb", or "wat's he talkin about" but u know wat im talkin bout, because no one is totally open with sumone and everyone is there own person.