Empty


His soiled tears fell without haste to the ground on which he now stood upon.
Forming particles of salt behind his eyelids, now so dry, burning harsher than
the awkward glances of the strangers that shrouded him in silence. The crushingly frigid rain that trashed against his bare face, waking demons that lurked
inside the shadows of his mind for over centuries, patiently waiting for their chances at a staring role.
The smell of decayed flesh now filling lungs to capacity, suffocating on indecency and wrong pronunciation will be said downfall, a lost grip of reality.
Fill my mouth with dirt, and sew my lips together with the satin navy ribbon from inside your nightstand, silencing me at your will.
I am now tattered and worn, like an old rag used by a stale whore to wipe away the scent of the men that filled her with their so-called love. Off her once beautiful but now crippled withering body used and hung out to dry for all to see.
And as the monsters rise and thunder and lightning crackle throughout the night sky into a million and seven different colors I hear a baby cry out in agony longing for its mother’s embrace, something it will never know. You could hear it in her cry.....she needed to be set free, she longed for death and it’s sweet kiss to come take her into the night. So across her wrists
she drew her deathly jagged lines and bled out onto the floor shedding all pain of a life that no longer ceased to exist.
Uncomfortable are the words unspoken for that of a motherless diseased child. She is plagued at every corner for her mother’s sins, and death was a necessary evil.
A symphony of sounds fill the sky like colors splashed across a painter’s canvas.
And now my mind racing forward with stead fast back to the present, sight now eludes me as I wade in the darkness, paralyzed in empty fear of the boy I used to be, urging myself to run. Run away from it all and cry, little insatiable one. Run back to where my voice is caged and bruises are silenced and things done in the night are forgotten, hushed, locked away behind the door. The door that has no key.
For what you did I’ll take to my death..
Now coming to the conclusion that the morbid fantasies that played on a loop in my mind, promising more to come, will be forevermore just that promises, broken and void.
A molecule in an infinite abyss to which we all must sit and wait. Wasted while we unwittingly let the monsters traipse throughout gripping at our subconscious thoughts as parasites do.
Taking us to new places that defy what we believe to be true life, for monsters are not real, they cannot hurt us, but yet somehow they do. Because a monster is not a creature from a story book or a scary movie. The devils, the demons and monsters are you and me. We are the wicked within, that hold true to defiance and fight till the candle runs cold. The proud who kill in justice for the sake of the righteous of what we think is retribution for the wrong done unto us.

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