Did you really think
you could dance
around my heart
like it's a ballroom,
with bodies floating around,
swaying to the steady thump
of my heart beat,
and just leave
like you did?
Why yes, you did,
didn't you?

The air around you
is so much thicker,
like ice, melting;
dripping on my forehead.
Torturing me, you are
Your fashion of life,
I assume
and I listen,
as the words flow
from your mouth
and I die a little
after every syllable.

The car speeds,
splashes past the
back of my head.
I feel a million mild
shakes that won't leave
the back of my eyes.
Thoughts of
Love, Death, and homicide,
Dreams that never seem to
die.

Today, I see
the world's centerfold,
telling me
everyone's problems,
from the death of
a mother's first born,
to the loss of a small bill,
losing your midnight
snack privileges,
to losing your father
to God's mercy.
And staring at
this centerfold,
I can't help but
crack a little smile,
maybe lough a bit,
because I can't help but think
that through all my sorrow,
all my downsides
and negative thoughts,
I remember how
no matter how bad
my life can be,
all my ups and downs,
I will rise in the end
and I will be around
those who love me.
And to those people,
I thank you.

The devil's shadow
follows me,
reaching across the road.
It follows me,
hovering over my head
watching my legs stretch
faster with every stride.
He follows me,
hearing my breathe
increasing as I leave
my calmed state
in a flustered worry,
at the embrace of death.

I see the devil
in the mirror
and in my reflection.
I feel it slide through
my veins, and out
the pours of my skin.
I feel him in in every
empty portion of my being,
every lost thought,
every lack of life,
telling me to
embrace death
as if it were my last friend.
and, for all I know,
The devil is my only friend,
and in death,
I embrace.

Today is a dark day.
So dark,
in fact,
not even the words
on this very paper (screen)
can describe
the loathing
I have for
myself,
or the will
I lost
to carry on
with my miserable
life.
A day
as dark as
today
is branded with death.
A death that will be conceived as
more of a present,
rather than a punishment.
For, on a day
as dark as today,
my heart would rather
stop beating.

An old man,
of 72 years of life
told me once
not too long ago
not to wear my heart
on my sleeve,
but I never learned
because my heart was
always comfortable
where it was.
And now that
my heart
is on the floor,
weak and mangled,
I am left
with nothing but
the thought of
a few wise words
that would have
saved my heart.