Maker
She built you from clay.
She carefully shaped your limbs, your smile, your eyes.
She made you strong with fire.
And she told you, "You'll always be mine."
You happily believed it,
For she had even crafted your mind.
She made every little, beautiful thing about you.
She raised you right.
But your heart was out of her control.
And on one fateful night,
You met your doom.
You took her home that night,
Said you couldn't have imagined such perfection.
She put words in your mouth and you stripped yourself of any true love.
You unremorsefully said goodbye to your maker,
And walked off a cliff, holding the wing of your love.
She laughed as you fell, and she flew too close to the sun.
There lie two blinded souls, bounded by the holy union of death.
True Confessions
I shouldn’t have done it! Why oh why did I confess to my psychiatrist what I had done? It had been my own little secret for years but I knew I had to get it off my chest before my acidic thoughts destroyed me. What else could I do? I had tried writing it down on paper as a release and then burning my confession but it didn’t work as well as I would have liked.
I had spent almost a year getting nowhere with my doctor. He was watching me closely and saying nothing as I began my story.
“I had a boyfriend named Darren who treated me like an angel. But I made the mistake of telling him about the baby I had when I was sixteen which I had given up for adoption. Because of this choice, I was able to finish school and become a physical therapist and even my parents didn’t know. But now Darren knew and he kept harassing me to tell my parents and try to find the baby. I didn’t want to. I was happy, making good money and respected in my field. But he wouldn’t let up and I was desperate, afraid that he might tell my parents. It really was his fault because he made me feel guilty as I relived that terrible time in my life.” Tears were coursing down my cheeks as I made this confession to my doctor.
“How did you resolve it?” asked Dr. Ogden.
“Well,” I sighed, “I had no choice but to get rid of the problem. Darren and I were mountain hiking when he slipped and fell off the cliff. The rocks were loose and the authorities agreed that it was an accident. I never knew how terrible it would be to see his crushed and broken body at the bottom.”
“Was it an accident?” Dr. Ogden looked at me closely as I answered.
I knew he suspected that I had pushed Darren to his death. “I won’t admit that I had anything to do with it.” But I knew he had come to his own conclusion.
I remembered feeling a small sense of relief when I burned the paper earlier in which I wrote my confession about giving up my baby. So what could I do? He now knew about Darren. I must ‘burn the doctor’ so to speak. I took out my pistol and shot him. Dead men tell no tales.
A Treacherous Web
Lost in the dark, tangled in silken threads.
The black widow before me begs to be fed.
Devious and cold, a demanding deadly trickster.
Resplendent and ravishing, but don't succumb to the whispers.
Haunting, yet refined. All attraction proves fatal.
Detrimental. Toxic. Endless warning labels.
I sift through the threads to see the fiend clearer,
Until my fingers strike glass. Alas! Only a mirror...