Suddenly awake in bed,
surrounded by the night.
Ragged breath and heartbeats drum,
fighting back the fright.

Peering through the inky black,
seeing, hearing nothing.
Then a scurry, flurry sound,
surely that was something.

A brilliant flash of lightning,
and peels of thunder sound.
Grotesque shapes and images,
suddenly abound.

With a thump and tearing sound,
something's on the bed.
Two burning eyes and pointed ears,
upon the creature's head.

Relief, at last, when realized
the sound of motor's purr,
and feeling that soft caress
could only be cat's fur.

Laughing at the silliness,
of getting carried away.
You hardly even notice
the murderous lunatic standing next to your bed with a big, ****** axe raised up above his head.

only dead boys hold insects like they're something
special
only a dead boy would let a mantis in his heart and
preying was always a better descriptor
because hymns burned in my throat and
i scratched a cross into my palm but i was never lucky enough to scar
but
oh, dead boy
bug lover
enduring a thousand lashes to save the soul of a beetle  -
i'll help you peel off all your scabs to make sure they scar
thick tissue skin memory sometimes you think scars are the closest you'll get
to a wedding ring
you're a suicide king i think a kingdom of hearts was never the safest place for you i
don't think you understand the way your subjects' hearts are strung because
entomology entomos everything you love is cut to bits
and on the fourteenth of february you told me
the only purpose of a flower
was to hold
a spider
inside
and i guess that was why you painted all your walls with roses i
hope your garden  smells as sweet
covered in your misfortunes
only a dead boy would let
a praying mantis so close
to his neck
oh, you freak. disgusting.
i ate the last one that let me this close.
you told me {if i die
leave my body
in the forest
by
an anthill}
maybe you don't realize we were doomed from the start or maybe you're just naïve but
honey you're a dead boy and
corpses don't fall in love.
[you're so genuine it hurts and i think
i could teach you how to be a fake -
nobody likes an honest man
i could teach you how to hate the world but you said

{the only one
i hate here
is me}]

freakish child.
all you see in every rorschach is mantes and
decapitations and
wedding rings you are an aberration,
suicide king entomologist your throne room
was full of termites.
with hallowed cheeks and hollowed churches,
i will assure that you scar
dead boy, if you die
i will put maggots
in your chest

he's everything you wanted. everything you wished for. he'll twist his fingers through your hair. and tell you pretty lies like "I love you more than anything". he'll laugh at your jokes but inside he'll think they're lame. he'll call you beautiful but also think she is too. he'll say too much when he wants to get out of a situation. and he's not who you thought he was, is he? but you knew when his lips tasted like sugar and his touch burned like a fire, that he would get more than a second or third chance for all his endless mistakes. because everyone makes 'mistakes', right?

Hold on while I explode,
my mind is pacing,
my heart is racing.
Don't let me go,
I can't be left alone.

Your love is a light
that shines down on the darkness,
that protrudes my mind.

Your love is a guide
through the thick black forest,
of my crippled mind.

I can feel you,
when you look into my soul.

Hold on while I implode,
the feelings inside,
no where to hide.
Don't let me go,
I can't be left alone.

Your love is a beacon,
shining high upon the hill,
high above my heart.

Your love is the reason,
that I have the will,
to try and restart.

I can feel you,
you make me whole.
I can feel you,
when you look into my soul.

These simplistic,
complex feelings,
leave me floating,
touch the ceiling.

But in the end,
something will,
always be there,
to tear me down.

Hold on while I explode,
my mind is pacing,
my heart is racing.
Don't let me go,
I can't be left alone.

A ******* the brink of breaking,
faking her way to the top of the pile of all the dead before her.
Drinking to escape it,
she fights her way through the words,
looking for a cure.

All the names they call her,
ugly, fat, ****, *****.
What doesn't **** her,
just breaks her down more.

All the people telling her,
"you're okay",
are the people that help break her down anyway.

Why should she listen?
Why should she give them the satisfaction?

The bruises on her skin,
the voices from within,
the cutting, scratching,
and tearing of her precious skin,
is causing her to bleed,
is causing her to feel just a little bit better.

But better never lasts forever.

The evil within her,
is starting to **** her,
she crumbling under the pressure.

The puzzle pieces don't fit,
I guess that this is it,
she crumbled under the pressure.

Nothing lasts forever.

The world has become so grey,
forever shining stars fade away,
behind the clouds, evil, grey,
they no longer illuminate your eyes.
And to who's surprise?
A storm is forming over the bay,
gale force winds have the sailors running astray.
And the orchestra plays,
tugging at the strings of my heart,
using my pain to make an art.
And the thunder rumbles loud,
and the lightening lights up the clouds,
and the rain is falling sideways,
and the winds blows evil away.
And the skies are pitch black,
and the thunder and lightening crack,
and the storm, it devastates,
but it cleans my heart of the pain.
I walk along the wreckage,
seeking a new message,
seeking a new blessing,
am I messing with fate?
Am I testing fate?
Am I early or late?
What did I create?
The storm washes it all away.
And the thunder rumbles loud,
and the lightening lights up the clouds,
and the rain is falling sideways,
and the winds blows evil away.
And the skies are pitch black,
and the thunder and lightening crack,
and the storm, it devastates,
but it cleans my heart of the pain.
And when the sun shines down,
through the cracks in the clouds,
the orchestra will play,
and the sailors will sail.
The bay will be calm,
the storm will be gone,
and I will start again,
I will start again.

Her abandonment was absolute,
eyes vacant and glassy,
windows to an echoing room of emptiness.
Her forehead sagged like an unrepaired ceiling with frowns and wrinkles;
she had fingers the colour of old whitewash.
Her hair sighed like old wood in a breeze,
the scars on her arms like rusted nails on ply.
Her heart creaked and ached with old timber;
an old soul, filled with sawdust and ash.

Soon enough
she would rot and collapse
to the earth,
weighed down by disrepair and neglect;
she would never find the strength
to get up
and be filled again
with children’s laughter.

Never to be called home again,
just the broken remains of a tomb,
irreparably
and completely
forgotten.

I'm withering away,
I'm vulnerable,
my legs are weak and I can barely speak.

I'm wandering astray,
I'm on the run,
the feelings inside are burning me alive.

It's tearing me apart,
to see you depart,
to see you walk away,
to see you leave me.

I hold onto the hope,
that you will come back,
but hope won't hold back,
hope won't hold back.

I'm burning up inside,
I'm half alive,
and this fire won't be going out anytime soon.
I am a fool,
for thinking that you will be waiting too.

And it burns a hole in my heart,
to know you don't care.
It eats me alive,
and I know you don't care.

But I hold onto the hope,
that you will come back,
but hope won't hold back,
hope won't hold back.

I'm holding into hope,
but hope won't hold back.