::: Not Quite Right :::

it occurred to me just last night
I'll always be that girl who's not quite right
keeps dreaming of that murderous guy
who'll take her home and bleed her dry
to remove her bones, her flesh, her scream
how could this girl ever dare to dream
when everything she wants from life
is to be thrown beneath a knife?

::: Hands :::

do you ever speak
of me
when I'm not around?
would you
tell your tender lies
to any other?
fingers pressed against
your lips

the world just spun out
and in that time
all I could see was
your heart
in that moment
I could have reached out
grabbed it
watched it beating in my hands

crushed it
into a form of my own
so you could never leave me
your warm blood
between my frozen fingers
on the ground
some things should never
change

but this silence leaves me
to look around
I won't know
where I should go
without you
to take my hands and lead me there
will a strange road
follow me home?

::: Casket :::

in this world there is nothing
no sun, no moon, no rain
that shines so dearly as the tears of your eyes
though they are bled for none
in your vengeance for life undeserving
which way do you want to go?
down the cheeks on a path to the heart
or passed off on rough hands
that care only for the continued fight?
those wounds which will not close
they never falter
unlike the faith of the knees
bent ever in submission
supplicant to an unseeing good
that died in the mind of innocence

what are you?
this creature that fades to the light?
how can you stand on so much nothing?
you dispose of yourself
like meaningless drops of water
rain over skin instead of oceans
which depose from your eyes
with greater essence than you ever understand
fought against in denial of true being
so you become false
as the faces on the walls which inter you
no casket to dwell in your mind
you are closed