Not For The Faint Of Heart

18 hours left before I die

18 seconds to figure out why.

My heart beats faster

and time is all that matters.

I hurry to figure out this poison why,

Or on this floor I will lie

Neurons firing like lighting,

Blood flowing with anxiety frighting

Am I just freaking out again?

Or is this truly the end?

We talk in catastrophe

Feeling like we are in a cacophony

I feel a stabbing in my head

Was it that piece of moldy bread?

The walls are closing in,

Was it the meal I skipped to get thin?

I worry that they will see my fear

How can I look strong for my dear?

And then the moment past…

It was just a sugar rush I hath

I worry about others fear,

I worry when they feel smeared.

So the next time you feel your heart race,

Look around your place,

Realize that you are not the only one there,

And understand how precious it is you cared.

For their life, their hearts their mind,

Or even when you were bored with them that one time.

And cherish all their is,

So that you can have a life well lived.

The Night of Magic and Monsters

The soft windy rain flows gently to the ground,

The days dwindling light depresses everyone even the hounds,

As the sun sets,

Following a path with feet wet,

We see a woman about 18,

Golden hair wet from the rain,

The building we have entered

Has a hallway grand,

And as we continue to walk,

We get to tired to stand,

Our vision stutters,

Our voices to tight to mutter,

We try to warn each other,

But our vision fades,

Is this end of our days?

Waking up in an uncomfortable bed,

We are covered in chains even our heads,

Then a dingy light pours in,

As the door opens our capture comes in.

He explains that we should of never gazed,

Upon the woman with hair so blonde it blazed.

That she is the siren,

And her breath can daze,

He exclaims that it was a dutiful fight,

But in the end he did succeed in his smite.

With a mask, a halberd, and will of iron,

He entered the mansion just like did.

Stopping this monster before it fed on our souls,

And removing its head which he placed on the mantle I am told.

Feeling saved from this monster we saw,

We remembered the chains and begin to caw,

He explains that sometimes men stay under the spell,

And he didn’t want to have to be the one to have us felled.

Releasing us from our bondage and peril,

We kept to our feet,

And then in the mirror there was not one head,

But two to greet.

I now see the monster he feared,

Was not only the siren,

But the two headed rock eater here.

No One Is An Emotional Punching Bag!

I am mad at myself

Or is it from someone?

I try to let it pass

But it is not gone.

I walk down the streets

Seeing hearts,

And all I want to do is tear them apart!

Is it because of my own sadness,

Or my inability to sleep?

Is this the start of madness?

Or some unresolved grief?

The hate is real

The angry unfurls

I am lashing out at everyone

Like a rabid squirrel!

Then I turn the frothing hate inwards,

That’s it I could just beat up myself!

But that makes me sad

And keeps my heart from being glad,

It brings me pain,

And then I feel disdain,

For myself,

For the world,

Now I have hurt them all,

Including myself,

I am nobodies punching bag,

Is what the world says to itself.

So in the end,

You need to defend,

But not with grief,


Or mischief,

Find a place to relax,

And then sit back,

Let the hatred flow away,

And be the one who forgave.