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Alive and Dead

Poetry By: Love Reaper
Young adult



So I die, and die again.


Submitted:Aug 24, 2011    Reads: 20    Comments: 1    Likes: 2   


Nightmares, sweet nightmares, how you continue to persist and exist in the cracks of my reality turning fantasies into a ruthless brutal Harlot, intensifying my fears turning them into monstrous entities.

Nightmares sweet nightmares, how you speak the forbidden truth of my forgotten words leaving me as single and unattached like a hyoid bone, leaving me lonely and thirsting for attention.

Leave me be my sweet, for my heart can't take on the ugliness that lies in your heart. For I've spent months executing these weeds that grow as strong as tree but they re-occur proving me inferior once again, proving me not valid, not good enough.

For the love of our music is poisonous pure acid of mellow thought and caressing love sighs, but we are not together. For we play the same game, but are on different teams making us wonder how unstoppable we could be if we were meant to be together.

But nothing is ever that simple.

My voice, my face, hard as diamonds. My reasoning, my morality, humble. My heart, disintegrated. My brain, gray. Our lives as one is as existent as the children we had.... I bore no children.

As I walk away I turn, see the happiness beaming through your eyes as you hold hands with your soul and I look at my wrist wondering if the expulsion of crimson will stain our photo album, our lives. Would it make a difference if I did it here with your back turned off into a new millennium? No, no.

For the time to love and mature has expired and has been exterminated.

There are no files.

So I take the hand of death soberly, mourning. I deserve no metal, I am no hero.

The pain coerces me with anxiety, wishing I were never born, glad that I experienced the merciless merchants of life. Should I cry before I die? Or should I just be as cold as the love I'm fed?

Nightmares, sweet nightmares, for your worst is my sweetest dreams, but the real horror lies when I wake.

Wake up fat and ugly.

Wake up worthless.

Wake up alone.

For at first I wanted to spend my dying moments with the oldest of friends, but now I realize I want to spend it with you.

Even though you ripped my heart out through my stomach, twisting my intestines on the way, I forgive you. Because now I have closure on the bloody mystery that laid thick in my throat.

I wish to say I love you one last time but I'm afraid if you say it back I will change my mind, leave death and run to you, beg for your incantations only to be dragged back at the chain of your I love you's meaning a different thing.

This road that I walk on is as deadly and as hot as hell. I inform to regret meeting you. For you changed my world and yet I couldn't return the favor. I deserve nothing from you and I shall soon be nothing but memories and bones.

My heart is in the middle of nowhere, fresh. I wait. Wait for someone to put it in ice, give it back to me, revive me but it is too late, which is always on time. My heart has shriveled into a dime but no one will notice. No one ever notices as they step on the worthless coin.

This is where it ends, where I let go of the dead memories, where I let go of me. But do not mourn at my funeral for life is pleasant and loves everyone, just not me. This world is not meant for me.

And when you see me for the last time, I will be beautiful, I will be smiling.

For I have found my true love.





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