DeiceSeven

This plain white box, contains my thoughts, and i wondered what happened to all of my clocks, all i see are empty spots, where my good times used to fly, by, by the way, what did I say, muttered something about soul decay? You didnt listen anyway, you just picked my locks. And thought. Thought of things that add up to naught. And in the end its you whos caught, another good time stealer. So I sit back and watch you fly, on wings fashioned with wings and twine, you believe, and sure, you touch the sky, but its not the same as feathers. Cuz even well made twigs and twine, unravell with the test of time, so dont you FUCK with these wings

Finger tips. Flying over skin like moths drawn to a flame, unable to find a final resting place. Finger tips running through my head, plucking at strings , tugging at chains, moving my actions guiding my hands. Finger tips. Flying over the keys, my eyes barely registering the letters as i tap them, they dance to my commands and follow my fingersteps. Sparks fly as they dance. Sparks in my head. On the keyboard. On your skin. Finger tips. Finger tips rest on your lips.

I spread my wings on loose pages of a long ago written book. One that contains thoughts and emotions long since forgotten by the wages of time and war within the mind. As I take flight I notice pages falling away, like feathers for children and people i once knew to pick them up and place in their pocket keepsakes of long ago. As the pages fall I see words flash by. Love. Hate. Misunderstanding. And i feel a twinge of guilt as my feathers fall away and gather on the ground.

The wrist. A curious device. It attaches to the hand, the most usefull part of the human body. Ourlife flows through it. Into it. from it. The wrist allows us to do all and everything we think we can possibly acheive. It also allows us a way out. A way outof life. A way to excape from all the things others want us to acheive. It is an exit, and an output, charged with potential. So, choose to live and acheive, or choose to let your life flow. Choose to be released.

It stumbles through the night, like stray thoughts in my head, choosing only to devour. It feeds upon the living, like this terrible rage inside me, eating away in order to survive. Its ever hungry, like my craving to be needed, its thirst never quenched. Its face is distorted, like my inner demons, wrought with constant agony. It stumbles through its pathetic life looking for a reason to continue to live. Like me.

Flowing freely brushstrokes over canvas. Gliding gently over a page words pouring from the heart. Fingers plucking and picking strings, resonating with emotion. Artistic freedom, allowing one to express oneself. Art is beautiful emotions incarnate.

All it takes is a little faith, faith for me and you. All it takes is a little faith, faith to pull us through. All it takes is faith, to pull through to the end. All it takes is faith, you and me my forever lasting friend.

It isn't you. My old friend, my older love, my oldest companion. It isn't you. The one i wish to walk the earth with. It isn't you. The one my heart belongs to. It should have been you. The one who could lift me up. It could have been you. The one to make all my dreams come true. I wanted it to be you. My everlasting love. But it isn't you. I have found another, and i must cut the ties, because leading you on isn't fair. I know its not fair, But it isn't you my sweetest friend.

Flame tipped corpse drive by's. Tipping their wasted useless selves into their crypt, their final resting place. Dropping, dropping, dropping, like flies that will swarm over your body and implant their young. "filter"-ing your life away with each death tipped inhalation. I hope you choke.

You.....what made you think you would get away with it? Your nothing more than a demon, a parasite that feeds off others. Waves of disgust and nasuea roll over me as i think of how close i used to be to you. I practically vomit on the keyboard. My homage to you and all you stand for. I hope your happy. Rape? Well show you rape. Say goodbye to your dignity. To your lies. To your friends. To your thoughts of non-existant love. You havent seen anything yet. You havent been raped yet.