Dreams Page 4 I hesitated, I stopped contacting the dead for a reason but I felt bad for Veronica and her mother, I sighed.“Alright..I will but I will need 3 things that were important to her..”Adsila smiled “Oh thank you thank you! Alright I will bring them over tomorrow, here is my phone number incase you need anything” She handed me her number and then she went down the stairs.I sighed looking at the number for a few minutes thinking,”Why am I doing this again?..” Before I unlocked my door and went inside.It was around 11:30pm and I was sitting on my couch watching the news report on Veronica's case from last year, I watched as they carried her body out of the field, talking about how badly she was beaten and how no evidence from her killers were found. It was said that Veronica had no boyfriend so it couldn't have been him but they later mentioned that she was a lesbian so no boyfriend did it. I sighed and turned off the TV, I couldn't watch anymore as it
Dreams page 3I walked home to my apartment building, walked up the stairs to my floor as usual but when I got there I saw a women standing at my door as if she was waiting for me, I paused in my steps looking at her. The woman looked to be in her mid 40's to early 50's, she was small and looked to be native American. She had dark curly hair which part of it was tied up at the back of her head. Her clothes were, how do I explain this, they were kind of spirit like. Long skirt, big jumper and sandals, what I see a hippy like person wearing. She was holding something in her hand that looked like a newspaper article.I walked over to her slowly, “Uhm...can I help you?”She turned to me and looked at me with an eagerness in her eyes.“Excuse me, are you Snow Monroe?”I nodded.She smiled and her eyes lit up, “Oh thank goodness! I heard about you from my friend, she told me you could contact the dead. Is that true?”I looked at her, I hadn't contacted the dead in a lon
Won't Give InI'm getting weak,can't find the light.Too tired to try,Too tired to fight.I want to give in,let my grip slip,start the fall,let myself trip.But I can't let go.I need to stay here.Despite all the hardships,despite all my fear.I'll keep going.I won't give in.Though I feel like dying,though my chances are grim.So say hello to me,this act I put on,till my time comes,till God says I'm done.
starvetoday, i don't hate myself enoughto deny the hungers for -distractionsa cup of coffee that will treat me like sin dancing to the pulse of my bloodstreamfoodthe absence of guiltcracks in personalityscreaming poems silently at my reflectionsilencetoday, i will gorgeon the things i vowed to give up.today, i will break vows.today, i am a gluttonfor relapse and binge cycles,for starvation and changing reflections.tomorrow, i will wishi could be the skeleton thathangs in my closet.[ leave the tears where they lie,take the fallen stars and ripped up wings,do not regret spinning circlesaround vices. ]
Alone In The CrowdHelp me shed this cloak of confusionAnd take me back to my home,I'm tired of this seclusionSlamming lies into all I've known.I'm counting eternal hoursNumbers in nocturnal sleep.The glass in which we showerCan't hold back what you keep.I want you to help me dreamAnd show me how to act.From a river, into a stream;What is it that I lack?The gleam of your necklaceReflects all of my want.Is it because I was reckless?Is it me that they haunt?Ushered into an unwanted graveBound in chains, drowned in steel.I was made into a social slaveAnd died as if I were not real.
I have nothing to writeI have nothing to write,nothing to share.I am lost for inspiration,and I don't even care.So what if I don't write?It's not like it's good.So what if I don't draw?It's not like I ever could.I don't need to create.It's all pointless in the end.I thought I loved my pen and brush,but they're just false friends.
Love of DeathThese aren't nightmares, they're worse than nightmares. They're these terrors. And it feels as if somebody was choking me.Playback.These aren't nightmares, they're worse than nightmares. They're these terrors. And it feels as if somebody was choking me.Playback.These aren't nightmares, they're worse than nightmares. They're these terrors.Playback.They're these terrors.Playback.Terrors.Sometimes you wake up in a cold sweat. Sometimes you see flames. You see people that you love dying, dying horrible, gruesome deaths. You see people that you hate outliving you. You can't sleep. For long, anyways.Another night. Morning rose.Smiles haunt you. Joy forgets you. Happiness skips you. Ghosts, they avoid you. At the end of the world, before falling, the last thing you see is the body of your most cherished one floating by. They are dead. And so are you.Another night. After day.You lie in wait for sleep to come. Sleep never comes. You have these terrors. They aren't nightmares, they'
Saltwater Burnsmend your brittlepoet fingers &nurse your static headsunwashed--cherry lips &blue, blue fingernails[girls like you areselenium-sweet &withering]
Shallow BreathsShallow breaths in the darkOn a sad summers nightJust a slow shooting starAlways trying to flyTaking leaps into hopeThat the future might changeTo get caught by the ropesThat will rot into chainsAlways thinking you're freeIt's your life and your wayAt the end of the leadBeing pulled on by fateYou're just playing alongTo the game they all knowWith a song that's been sungAnd a seed that's been sown
NormalWhat is normality?For others to accept you?To blend with the crowd?To stay insignificant?As you descend deeper into the cracks of tolerable society.Will you feel the smallest ping of regret?The softest voices shouting at you,Blaming you for sending others to the same fate.It was not you to blame.It was the first.The one who found all predetermined society at times beginning was a mistake.And chose to stand against it.As did others.Before the world.Is humanity existent anymore?Will we still break free of the oppression?Or have we become drones?Destined to follow commands of the higher class with no retort.I disagree.The unorthodox, the defiant, the rebellious, the infidels, the stingless puppets.Let them all be known.Like broken piano keys, or snuffed flame.We do not need them.They are a fact of life.That is until they interrupt the usual musicality accustomed,Or create a resilient flame.Only then do you acknowledge them.Turning a spec into a menace.As you ha
PoetryTrue meaning lies in wordAs true strength lies in the penTrue meaning never faltersA strength rare among menMuscle will not fix your errorsIt will only delay their worthBut pen and the words it bringsWill warm you like a hearthWords of true meaning will helpProblems soon to be fixedWords we will always rememberAn ever-burning wick