the past ...
winding trails
weaving patterns
hot blood burbling
a dead dank stench
thick thorns
petaled roses
daunting castles
one-eyed owl
demons
dressed in bloodied lace
cherry wine imprints on silver daggers
distorted creatures
burned by the fire
that burps from the ground
molten lava
cradled craniums filled
with the thoughts of your biggest fears
conjoined twins
surrounding your conscience
singing sweet nothings of guilt
chewed up tarot cards
voodoo
conjured
chemicals
capturing your brain
bringing you back to your past
locked in a jail
made from the strongest metal
on earth your feelings
record player thoughts
chained to the chair
of the voices in your head
screeched high pitched screams
hollowed out
scooped bone marrow
out of your wrist
a scalpel digging in so deep
causing your body to convulse in pain
your head hitting the past
and jolting you to the present
tears spring to your eyes
your tears turn black like poison
and dribble into your mouth
cause your lips to lose color
your lips melt due to the acidity
of the fumes
the gas reaches your lungs
your lungs drown in the liquid
of fluid of feelings
you encounter
on your travels to the past
yellowed photographs
lost souls trapped in the coffin
unwanted scenes put in your film of life
demonic creatures lurking the brain
spreading like cancer in your body
cause you to die in your aspirations
Westlake
Where students can turn up
however they want to
with weed, with coke,
with Xanax that kills people,
with kids skipping class during lunch for Sonic
and flipping their car speeding through intersections back,
where teachers don't care and can't control the raging inferno
called estrogen and testosterone
in graffiti-littered stalls
with hot touches and sweat and gasps,
where there's nine fights in two days,
seven fights in one,
boys metivacked to the hospital
after getting jumped in the bathroom--
almost dying,
where my friend's brother was shot and killed dealing drugs
where seniors were arrested shooting during a party
where 1 and 4 people go to college
where kids are already engaged
ready to ruin their lives.
©SelfTitled, 2017
Follow Me
The most evil place I can think of is being seated in a restaurant near the bathroom. When one of the wait staff says, "follow me," and starts heading to a table or booth near a bathroom, I speak up fast. "Is there another table or booth available?"
I can be extremely hungry, but seeing or hearing the bathroom door open and close shuts down my appetite. I imagine bathroom odors wafting over my food and adding an extra flavor I don't want to taste. That little pony wall that separates my table from the bathroom is no protection because my mind conjures up all types of evil escaping when each customer goes in and out and walks past me. So, I beg of you, please don't seat me next to the bathroom. I can't endure it. I'll wait for the next available table as long as it's not next to the table that is near the bathroom.
Where Evil resides
The most evil places I've ever known
are those in which humans own.
The sexes no difference make
They all are monsters and feed off of children
or animals in the worst way.
Children sold into slavery for sex, for work
CHILDREN FOR CHRISTS SAKE!
As young as 2 and 3years old they have no clue they just do what they're told.
And what do we do?
We lock them up so they can do it some more! Instead of
KILLING THE BASTARDS like they've
done to all those kids souls they touched!
WHATS WRONG WITH SOCIETY THAT WE DONT WANT TO BE RID OF THESE KIND OF HIDEOUS HEINOUS PEOPLE!
These are the same people involved in dog fights, chicken fighting, and cruelty to animals!
So I ask again why do we allow this evil to walk?
MVDemon
This place is full of demons. They sit with smug smiles and those little shotglasses of cups, always full of coffee. I watch how they drink it as I wait. Fangs pierce through the Styrofoam, but they are careful not to ruin their pressed shirts and tainted lipstick. They smooth out their ties and fiddle with papers. I know what's written on them. Our souls and the deeds to them. And we wait as they organize by name, date, and sin.
The walls are peeling and smells like eggs. One light in the corner flickers on an average of six seconds. I know because I counted. Curtians were drawn over the dirty windows, and even with the downpour and overcast skies, I would have at least liked to have seen the world outside of here. That may be too agonizing and after that thought, I was perfectly content with the trapped feeling instead.
I wait in the back of the line, in a musty chair with a number written on a ticket. I wait patiently for their decision. I have to play my cards right when they call me. I survived Mr. Romero's honors English class, I could deal with a lousy low-class demon.
"Number 44," I hear one of them hiss. He's a balding old fart, with a few strands on hair still left on his head. Gold-rimmed glasses falls loosly on his crooked nose and he snarls at me like I was his next meal.
"Marissa, I presume?" I glup and nod. I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand for silence. His grin widens and he pulls out the papers with the details of my soul. He looks it over with an amused chuckle and covers every inch of the form for a loophole. He stamps it and says without looking up, clearing disappointed, "Looks like we have a new driver on the road today, Ms. Garica. Stand over there and I'll take your picture."
I sigh with relief and follow his orders. I try not to smile, I was told that's when they get you. I've smiled in all of my pictures, except this one, but I would rather get back to my mom's Sudan and back to freedom before Mr. Baldy changed his mind.
He smirks behind the camera. "On the count of three, say cheese."
I don't say cheese and he grimances. The flash takes over me and I start to panic. He shows me the picture and asks if I like it. I nod.
"Me too," he snickers. He hands me a piece of paper and tells me my real driver's license will come in the mail. My soulless face stares back at me in black and white. Maybe it was too late, but, unlike anyone else, I was granted the right to leave. I took my chances with the door.
Before I leave, I feel like I had to thank him, so I do. He waves me off with sincerity and grins again, "See you soon."
Middle
The middle of the crowd
At a middle school event
Standing awkwardly alone, shoo
And out of the blue,
See someone you knew
Walk up, say hey
Then you drift away
They stay
Laugh, giggle, play
With their friends, not you, neigh
Leaving you
All alone in
The middle of the crowd
At a middle school event
Music blaring
No one staring
Nor caring
Not the girls or the guys
Socials classes aren't lies
One day I will rise
So I won't be
Standing alone in
The middle of a crowd
At a middle school event
