Hold Back to Hold OnTonight, I sit hereblinded by my own words,as they crawl across the screengiving life to my inner scream.Now neatly stacked in a stanza,trapped between linesand hasty rhymes.A begining to a poemwritten for you, but not to youthe way a subtle hint is droppedwith no one to catch itexcept hope.I love you.I say that too often,and a convincing lie most of the time.Save the moments those words are for you,like now, stop the clock.Hour, minute, second.I count, each one away from youthe way this stanza falls away fromthe first.Wish I could go back,but the third stanza.. actis already underway and who am Ito halt the play.. stage.. pain.. rage.I rage against myself,back ..and forth.Always the same answer resounding.I can't tell you how much you really meanto me, because if I lose youI have nothing. Not even this poem.
ME (Direct)Let Me tell you a secretI'm sweeter than I pretend not to beI'm less mean than I want to beI'm telling you this because it's about time you knew the real meIf you look past all my hateyou can see the love that lays beneathand it's all I needto put my life back in gearIt's the only thing I wantit's also the thing I fearI've been hurt before, that pain turned me into a misogynistthough I'm looking for a cureI can not stop the burnSo I'll be waiting hereForever if that's what it takesfor the one to find the real me
ChimesThe ceiling seemed to close in on everyone in the room. There was a dead man under the table in the kitchen, so the killer sat on the couch in the living room, and turned on the record player next to him. The man under the table had the air slowly pumped from his lungs, as the weight of his chest pushed him down. The killer gently put his head back, and looked at the ceiling. He put his arms up, and exhaled. The music started playing, very softly. It was The Guess Who’s “These Eyes.” Just outside, there were some chimes, playing against the rain.The bad thoughts drained out of the killer’s head, as he looked at the blank slate on the ceiling. There were beams of light, scattered by the jewelry hanging in the windows. There were stains, smudges, presumably from killing bugs. There were cracks in the paint, and larger stains. There was no telling where these things came from. The killer relaxed his shoulders. Before the running, before the panic, there would be a
PerfectionFragile and sweet,Skin like a doll.Not a single bit of fat,Not a single flaw.Hair so soft,Eyes so enticing.Never flat on either ends,Never someone who can be so easily ignored.Perfection is all that’s needed,And perfection is all there was,But it’s not the type of perfection,In magazines and books.It’s not the kind,That models should have.It’s not the kind,That is accepted by most.My own perfection,That might be hard to see,But maybe you should look closer,Instead of judging everything about me.
It Must Be BrillianceHow can I survive,if I'm neverreally living?How could I give lifeif I still don'tknow my own?How can I createif I've nothingleft for losing?How can I be lostif I never hada home?My life,it must bebrilliant.My heart,it must becold.My world,it's gettingheavy.My paymentis ofgold.How can I achieve,If I’m onlySlowly changing?How can I relate,if I'm stagnantin the mind?How can I exceed,when my standard'sgetting higher?How can I believe,when I'm fallingfrom the sky?My soul,it must befire.My mind,it must belost.My art,it must bedying.My breath,it must begone.Brilliance,it must bebrilliance,That'sguiding methrough life.Wonder,it must bewonder,that'skeeping mealive.
SilentlySilently she sits, sad, stopping sobsEscape everything eventuallyNever nowScars show seconds spent silently screamingWaiting, wondering, withering, whisperingFearing familyFeeling far from freedomDismal, dark, damnedHarmfully hoping, helplessly heldShe seesShe stays silent
OverIt’s over,Isn’t it?The words once said,Mean nothing now.The gestures once done,Have faded into the black.Everything is said and done,And everyone has moved on.We’re different people now,With nothing more to share.So please accept my goodbye,And move on too,Because I still can’t stand,Hurting you.