If only...If only you knew my life.If only you knew what goes on at home.If only you were nice.If only my parents treated me kind.It's all just If only.If only I didn't have bruises.If only those stairs were not in the way.If only the belt didn't happen.If only life was bearable.It's all just If only.If only my parents didn't beat me.If only I wasn't bullied.If only I wasn't fucked up.If only I wanted to live.It's all still If only.
Wish You Were HereRemembering the timeYour arms were wrapped around my waist,You head on my chest, and I asked:"Do you hear that?"And with no less that sweetest of voicesDid you reply with a:"Hear what, Love?""My heart, Darling.And you must know, that itWill beat for you and only you,Day and night,Forever and Always."And times like those,They make me wish so much more thatYou were in my arms as I speak.
For My Fallen AngelMy angel fell onceWill never againNever again***Yes, our hearts were brokenThey died slowly in our chestsYou had mine, I had yoursNowhere they areNowhere they areYes, I did cut and make you bleedIt was the demon inside meDemon inside me(You know...How cold, yet so warmHe was)(I know...How lost, yet so aliveShe was)***Your heart will be wholeI promise, I do promiseYou know I love youAs I still hold the piece of youIn my chest, in my chestWill you keep my heart safe?***Death Angel will open his wingsBroken wings, broken wingsTo give his last protectionHis Fallen AngelWill be safe, lovedAs he promised onceYours, mine, always.
Simple ThoughtsTried and weary, after a long day's work,Just any good citizen, you work for your family,And support them with good and decent care.Flopping down onto your sheets, you let your bodyRelax and go limp, arms and legs over hanging the edgesOf your comforter and mattress.Fatigue overwhelms you and sleep washes over like high tideAt sunset, on a sandy beach where couples love and children play.You close your eyes and simple thoughts drift into your mind.A childhood you barely remember having significance,Or a lover lacking passion.All such thoughts so dearly important to you flood your consciousness,And you hop up, in utter realization.And stroll away, and out the door,Through the street crammed with cars,And into the public park, the natures forest sucking you in,But you go in willingly,Seemingly floating over the tree tops with unimaginable power.Somehow, it suddenly is drained away. You fall with extreme speedAnd seem to only be accelerating.Then SPLAT!Your
Scraped HeartWhen I was a small child,I would ride my bike, just outside my homeOn the cobblestone and try to balance with accuracy.Now and again, I would fall, and scrape my knee.Mama would always come running, her face twisted with worryAnd hold me against her warmth, kissing my boo-boos,Whispering so calming that "it'd be okay",That I would "soon heal right back up".Just as all small children do, I grew.Life went on for me and Mama was sure enoughTo be found correct, I did heal.But now, knee scraping are not what I feel pain to...When I try to balance out my love, and it all comes crashing down...I surely scrape my heart, but as Mama always said, it would heal.This healed a bit more slowly...And hurt much more as it began to scar over the years,My love being taken advantage of, bruising my heart's outer flesh...And now, ready to explode from inner pain...I search for my Mama, oh where can she be to mend thisOrgan, no more than clothes now stitched together.
MoutainsWith the last steps up the gravel sides,Perspiration drifting along your face as a fierce-someCyclone generates before you, wind hastily whipping your faceLike a smack of a shovel to the ears, and such as flames doWhen they climb your leg, licking away at your skin.Your hair flips back and uncurls from its matted style,(Of course, as all styles reform to after this epic)And flaps like a scarred flag of the past,Hanging from a stained, steel mast, overlookingWhat would be a children's courtyard of the Past.You imagine a theme based tune, humming along in the background,As if adding suspense to this already nerve wracking experience.Soon, as if the Gods of Ancient Greek have heard your cries,The world's sorrowful prays, a shadowed figure emerges from the mist,And a ghastly hand, torn and sucked dry of color reaches down toGrasp you around your abdomen.You let the zombified hand squeeze you, and as if it's massiveAmount of power were being surged throughout your blood str
Breathe AgainAnd you swim to the surface,Hands mounted on outstretched armsAnd breaking the slickest of barriers,Then a burst of God's ingredient to lifeTrembles down around you in a curtain of realization.Your lungs implode just before waterFloods your system, and carbon dioxide is releasedGently into the precious air your lungs so badlyCrave above.A breath and rejuvenation of the mind, soul,And your very body itself.