Remorse
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You weep remorsefully
asking for forgiveness
You could cry an ocean
into my endless desert
You wish for understanding
and you can wish forever
For I'm no fairy godmother
For what I hold the knob!
To what my gaze explores!
To whom I forgot to count —
It must be who had flown.
So what lies inside the nest —
Before it was called mine
Chide the morn mist
A suitcase was left on my porch that was full of body parts.When I learned whose body it was, it really broke my heart.I burst into tears when I learned that it was my son.I hunted the killer down and shot him with my gun.
Staple gun to my head
Pin it closed the gaps of dread
Leaving out the slips of blood
Creeping forward pools of red
Wash my hands are never clean
Weeping
Small watery beads fall
like tiny diamonds.
Glittering as the sunlight
sprouts from their surfaces
in prismatic tints.
They said she would stay,
that she wouldn't feel a thing,
it would be quiet and still,
our goodbye's wouldn't matter
because she'd never know,
that they were said,
Lost in a dream of who I used to be
Shuddering to think of what they see
Adrift in the ocean drowning in shame
As waves of sorrow silence my name
My soul weathered by the guilty air
If heaven has a mailbox I would write a letter and this is what I would say.
In my time on this earth I have come across many magnificient things.
However nothing has been quite as beautiful as a flower from long ago.
Stacy,
I can still remember your gorgeous pearls,
those devilish items revealed the greatest treasure for me.
These riches could only be a girls.
The pearls gave me a view into the sea,
I wonder if we wish upon a starfor things to be different from the way they areWould it erase what has originally been written in the stars?
I saw this man alone in the brisk cold;
He wore an eskimo hat to keep warm.
A passing girl praised the hat, and behold-
The man offered it to her, against norm.
You were there...
When the sun didn't shine,
And the rain fell like my tears.
When the nights were plaugued
Flooded with my fears.
When my anxiety ruled my life,
And living with depression was a fight.
While my heart does bleed
For new life never born
My mind does heed
The pain of a mother torn
The decision to forestall
Life's seed to full bloom
Is a powerful anguish
of hellish gloom
What mind enlightened of God
Could reconcile a forsaken entrustment...
To guardian the yet unborn?
What eye that sees by Light
Could blind itself this darkest deed?
It roars in your ears
Pounding in your heart
Feeling miserable
A cloud over your head
Just wanting it to leave
Wanting to fix things
But you know you can't
There was nothing
Erik, I understand
In dark slain
Erik, I feel your pain
Hold my broken soul
Only you can know
Erik, pass this life
In darkness, I love you
Ugly Erik, poor Erik
The blood drips down from the scar that was just created.
The rush of pain and anxiety, no longer subdated.
Her tears were dripping like soild rain,
Dreaming of the day she could rid herself of the pain.
The paint on theses wall are starting to fade away.
My everlasting grip won't always be here to stay.
This faulting and destructive envy inside of this pain,
Well slowly start to leak out of my hopeless brain.
I wrote a poem about a girl,
And I though that I'd share it to the world.
So That it would bring hope to the ones That are heart broken,
And help them to find words that are soft spoken.
IT’S A girlThe three deadliest words in the world.So many keep disappearing just because of the flip of the coin.
Dark hair
Frames her angular face
Protruding cheekbones
Paperwhite skin hiding lacy blue veins
Dark eyes
Follow me around the room
Judging me
Looking at me
Wanting to be me
I could paint you a portrait. But I'd
Rather hand you this photograph.
I was only seventeen. She was my temptation
On my heart you'll spot her autograph
Decorated with Love and a lot of laughs
I love you dearly my brother
Equal in the eyes of God, and of our mother.
And yet I scorn and hate
the little things that make you weak,
and in a hundred ways
Sometimes I feel alone.
I mean, I often am alone, but being alone
Doesn’t require the feeling, does it? I sit in this room
Letting myself become overwhelmed. I reminisce
Beautiful roses
I can only pick one
from the fertile field in which beauty is born
All those roses, receive no different quantity
of sunlight or attention
I sniff each one
Some smell better
