mymonsterischic's profile

My vision began to fail when I was sixteen years old. It occurred over such a slow period of time that I hardly noticed until I was unable to read street signs, and remembered the good old days when I was able to. Understanding that my sight was sorely lacking, I began to fear large crowds and getting lost. When I was a child, I could zero in on a familiar face a mile away. Now I was older and unable to do so. I hung close to people, afraid of being lost in the mall, Wal-Mart, or even the gym...

Slamming down like angels there’s no rain here anymore, There’s only ash and concrete but that’s what it’s all for. You see them on the corner there, The lost and weak and proud. You see them on the sidewalks here-- I know you’re lying. ------------ Under the arch, And in the gardens, The dead roam free, Their bodies like me. ------------- Protesting the way we weren’t passive today, Hiding behind silence while the blood just drains away. You roam and play your and hide and seek, For the dead...

A heavy heart, A lightweight mind, I can sense it-- You’re by my side. Intentions drawn, And leading way. You always know what to say. --------- Blood boiling, Intestines coiling. You smile like low tide. And have eyes opening my insides. I let them fall out. --------- A heavy heart, Of a failing kind. I can feel it-- Behind the tide. Sinking low into the black, I’ll always want you back. --------- Still smiling, Inside I’m-- Well, I’m dying. You smell like moonlight, But touch like day brigh...

Skinny arms With mappings of bruises Head rolling back She’s unaware. ---------- Babies begin In the same building Where we go to die -------- Heading down He sees that he’s falling He closes his eyes We’re unaware. ---------- Flowers can grow In the same ground place Where we lay our dead ------------ Getting old And remaining the same I flirt with disaster I’m unaware.

======================================= Puberty is astonishingly painful, hidden to eyes of adults jaded with unapparent age, yet general adolescence is somewhat of an obstacle to overcome. I’ve made and heard the comparison of adolescence to glass—it can be treated carefully and make it through whatever journey has been thrust upon whatever poor soul, but it can never survive and keep the pristine beauty that marked childhood. It can be shattered. It can retain shape, and live to see the nex...