He couldn’t resist

overwhelming feelings

took over his body

hairs stood up

on the nape of his neck.

The time was ripe

he grabbed her

from behind

and slit her throat.

Watched in fascination

dark blood spurted

sheathing her body.

He finger painted crimson

masterpiece of art.

My knife slashes the body yet again.

The others watch.

I am not murdering this man.

I am ridding the world of him.

Let his blood become a message to not become a burden to the world.

Let's get rid of them all.

Come on.

Let's paint the town red.

Deep in night, I think of death,

Absorbing its enormity,

No hue at all; conformity,

Soul atomless, forgetting breath, 

No system to fight, no ruling laws,

Who knew God never cared?

Alone with myself, I'm unprepared,

To love the person I once was. 

He was ten.

Coach decided to make him receiver.

Me, furious: "He's blind in one eye, he'll never catch it, setting him up for failure!"

Coach, annoyed: "We'll see."

Gameday

Quarterback throws.....15 yards....

CAUGHT!!!!

FIRST DOWN!!!!!

••••••

So glad that coach ignored me.

Without my "protection"

His potential is infinite...

I witness an angel plunge into the rolling sea. Her dress

lifts,

swirls,

glides

gracefully as if she's dancing on a lonely stage.

There is no struggle;

the depths embrace her gently,

stroking the curls of her hair,

the silk of her skin.

Hidden beneath the surface lays her serenity.

The flower reaches for  

The light it will never receive 

Forgetting how infertile it is 

This mission it gave itself 

To survive this dark room 

To live, to find the light 

And touch it with its 

Wilting petals and leaves 

Singleness

Why should I be worth something if theres no one to love me?

No wait stop

Your value is not based on the love of another person

You are worth something

and self love is not selfish

Let you define yourself

I'm wandering down the streets of my neighborhood

Searching for trouble and mischievous in-opportunities

I'm missing my friends that have their own lives

Having their children and cherishing wives 

Surely I have room to be more selfish or more understood

When my aloneness stands where meditation should

I watched your blood drop into the chalice,

And then you pushed it to my parted lips.

In your soulless eyes, pleasure tangled with malice,

And my resistance proved defenseless beneath your icy grip.

High priestess, you made me all that I am.

My power rests in your left hand...