barricade's blog: "Poetry"

I breathe. I am. I taste blood. Once I come back, there's no hope to stop me. Prophecy. Malignancy. Kindred, she and I. The pulse, the bait. The rampant desire. Fire back in my eyes. Unscripted and raw. I draw from this soil. From your sickness. Scream so I know you're still with me. To each their own. No preaching here. Just blood and sand. Skin under my nails. A rift, a smile, a scent. A tie. It's all coming together.

Mother moon she sings to me a deadly lullaby. Cotton candy in my head, sticky sweet, yet laced with dread. Seven beasts with poison tails. Seven days that bleed. I'm just another mouth to feed, and yet I plead...for more.

Piteous moans inside my head, considerably afraid I'll wake up dead... and dreaming. Critics all around me, screaming my name. I know I'm the only one to blame. For this fucking mess I've so neatly arranged... Freeing muck from my vision, and crawling obscenities from my lungs. One of these days I'll breathe again. Today? Tomorrow. The day after...next. Circle, circle, circle round, I'm not the only one still falling down. Remind me why I still face back, when my future sorely lacks any sort of balance or sunlight. I am frightened, but you can't tell. And the stairway to hell looks more and more inviting. I can't be saved. But it's okay. I'll find my own way.

Ravaging you, it's stuck in my head like... one, two...three.. where are we? Come and get it, I've got it open wide for you. Take it, break it, it's yours. th-thump, th... I've got my hackles up, don't try to tell me she's not...

Cannot, breathe think...

stutter/shatter

The walls are breathing for me.

 

Steady. steady...

It's damned, doomed.

Remember when I was stable?

 

 

(me neither)

You break right through me,

pierce through all I've built

Like it's nothing.

It's an absolutely unnatural disaster.

 

Hold me lest I bolt away in fear.

I don't want to escape,

but the feeling is there.

I won't let it reign.

 

Hope holds me together

with its tenuous threads.

So I'll let it overtake me

until the morning comes.

Tick tick tick tick...

and this runs into that day runs into...

what's an hour to a minute?

 

Yet, here we are, staring, and

wasting, wasting away.

I'm sick with it.

 

I'll run with it.

 

Give me time that I don't have

I'll give you change from my pocket

for that void in your head.

 

Sick, sick, sick, sick....

 

a thousand empty bottles later,

and I have yet to drown.

 

 

insufficient, ill-advised,

tarnished, beaten,

fear-filled eyes.

 

I apologized with my mouth

but nothing else.....

as is my way.

 

 

To have loved and lost is better then to have...

Lies.