Вірші
Epidermis
A child scrapes his knee and is scared forever.
Yet, besides it's blemishes it is forgotten.
Another child is scraped on her heart,
this scar never heals and passed on is the pain she endures.
My skin no longer has the luxury of elasticity which allows one to withstand the scars that others take for granted.
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0
300
Exit Left
Stepping into the hallway between the doors of inspiration and indecision I reflect on the latter.
For choosing bears weight most would crumble under. Choosing between love or loneliness,confidence or submission,fear or bravery,causes neurons to explode at a rate beyond contemplation.
This explosion,the very nudge needed to step from the hallway into the rooms.
Yet take heed,once a decision is made,the doors of these rooms may never be unlocked again. Leaving you with said choice and its conditions.
No room for error,let alone failure. Especially when the choice comes down to wether or not you are ready to live with them indefinitely. Sewing the tapestry of fate and faith in such a way that there would be no unstitching. So my advice should be taken into consideration when I say "LEAVE THIS HOUSE!"
3
3
334
Crimson
I watch you disembark flesh and land on concrete.
Slowly at first.
Rushing more as the seconds proceed.
A drip,soon a puddle,then...
4
0
565
My oldest friend.
At times I ponder if people can actually fathom the amount of anger I hold within the fragile lining of my distorted cerebellum?
Firstly, I must be completely transparent. Nothing in my mind is fragile. I give you this word so that one might feel as I feel,even if for a brief moment. For empathy is humanly understandable.
Is it not?
Join me.
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243
Actor
Certain tendencies keep my inner thespian trapped behind the veil of transparency.
Hiding all of my masks in a trunk along with
matching costumes.
Stage fright consumes my every molecule,I tremble uncontrollably at the meer idea of performing for the crowd,or in my case "the critics."
Every word scrutinized.
Every line analyzed!
I can feel them tear down my one man show and writing horrible reviews in today's edition of the "Addictee."
As people read it with their morning coffee I hear their scoffs and grunts.
With every judged word I move further backstage until I am almost at an exit sign in the rear of the venue.
Fear has caused perspiration to drench this costume.
I throw caution to the wind,take off the mask and soaked costume so that the critics can see the true me as i make my way to the curtain.
Pushing them apart I start to pour my heart out on the stage.
Yelling at the top of my lungs until my throat is raspy and barely coherent. I've lost all fear,I'm revealing my true self.... I'm,I'm,speaking to an empty room.
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481
Grasp
Reaching out slowly in the beginning.
The distorted tricks one plays with themselves once in a while have become common practice.
I'm at ease.
Lies,lies, the sweet tenderness of that word itself lulls you in.
Or is it the fact that you start to believe them?
Digging into the trunk of desperation to find my favorite mask.
I hate how easily it fits.
I can even change my accent to match it's form.
I swore I would never wear this particular one again yet,well,you get it.
5
1
433
Chevette
Knowing the ramifications of driving recklessly,I still sit into the driver's seat. Gripping the steering wheel reluctantly at first. Inspecting the throttle,I press down the pedal to inject a minute amount of poisonous fuel into these tangled fuel lines embedded throughout the body of this tired old race car. With every revolution produced by the will of it's engine,I find myself recalling every twist and turn of the track ahead and prepare for the race to begin. I have been through this course numerous times, yet victory eludes me. I fear that I may never retire from this life of a driver. I fear what may happen if I let go of the gearshift I hold so dear. Simply put, in this car,on this track is the only place that i have ever felt at peace,at home...free. Free to forget the fact that to become a driver I had to a piece of my soul,nay, most of it. But one day I know this ignition will fail to start this weathered old engine. The brakes falling in line refusing to slow me down as I see the walls of the trackrushing directly at me head on. And the last part of the car that willfail and cause me to lose control while ending this perverse pain and pleasure mix of emotion I covent so,is the steering wheel. The very first part I ever touched. The Alpha and Omega as my life as a driver.... But,oh! The ride!
7
6
381
Home?
I am a citizen of the milky way,welcome. All are welcome,sometimes. At times our mat at the door is reeled in if you're wearing the wrong color or wrong skin. If you watch from Europa you can see the fireworks display of a nuclear nature. Listen to the silence. Watch the beauty of destruction and chaos. Limited only by my race's imagination of creativity. Cause for a limited time we have all forms of extermination. Perfected by many years of trial and trial,errors are never made by these hangmen. Their knot ever searching for an unwilling participant to entertain their vices. Vacationers welcome,maybe. Welcome to see the sights,visit our monuments and convert to our mainstream or be introduced to our aforementioned professors of fleshy sciences from the University of Divided Nations. In God we trust,sometimes. Unless we have to choose between Him,money,the opposite sex,power,comfort,or well,like I said,sometimes. "So come and knock on our door,we've been waiting for you."
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375
