Plot Twist.

I’m sure I’m going to end it.


I’m sure I’m going to end it;

This thing has gone on for far too long.

All week long, I promise myself

That when the time comes, I will be strong.

But the pictures that you send me

Make all of my insides shiver,

And the way you talk about me,

Still causes my resolve to quiver.

But the truth is, you don’t love me,

And I’m assured that you never could.

I’m sure that all the other girls

Will make you happier than I would.

So I decide that it’s over.

…I just have to say it to your face.

Or maybe I’ll just disappear

And watch as someone else takes my place.

I psych myself up to do it,

And I’m convinced that I really will,

But when I stand in front of you,

There are these feelings that I can’t kill.

So I let you hug and kiss me,

And we go on as we always do.

I’d really like to walk away,

But as it turns out, I’m into you.

The Chapel.

I waited until the sun was gone…

I waited until the sun was gone,

And my ribs were bleeding through my skin,

Bruises danced around my collarbone,

And those I knew had condemned my sin.

Only then did I get on my knees,

And to the nearest chapel did crawl.

My limbs ached in that holy place;

In front of the altar, I took a fall.

Demons peered at me through the windows,

Faces distorted by the stained glass.

A statue of the Virgin Mary

Had a gaze that would not let me pass.

I had once been of the praying kind,

But my faith had since then gone away.

I lay there, trembling and whispering,

“Oh, I will not pray, I will not pray.”

To pray would make me a hypocrite,

Who only believed in times of need.

It mattered not that I had stumbled,

And the son of man had made me bleed.

I was no longer meant for crosses,

And I would recite no Bible verse.

The rich scent of oil burned my lungs,

And the aching grew steadily worse.

Black saliva dribbled from my mouth

And splattered on the smooth marble floor.

My soul was stained by impurity;

The light in my eyes would shine no more.

Unwanted Visitor.

My conscience came a-knocking…

My conscience came a-knocking,

And he stood there at my door.

He was checking in with me

Just like all the times before.

Last time, I gave him crumpets,

And wished he was doing well.

He sat in my living room,

Chatting with me for a  spell.

But this time would be different,

And I knew it right away.

There he was at my peep-hole,

But I had nothing to say.

The timing wasn’t good then;

I had other things to do.

“Please come back another time.

I must kindly tell you: shoo!”

But Conscience wouldn’t have it,

And he pounded on the door.

He kept calling out my name

And it made my eardrums sore.

I’d boarded up the windows,

And locked every single room.

The air was getting musty;

My house had become a tomb.

I didn’t want him in there;

I just couldn’t let him see

The way things were decaying,

And what had become of me.

At long last, the pounding ceased,

And I thought he would relent.

I sank, crying, to the floor,

All of my energy spent.

But then I heard a whisper,

Barely an audible sound:

“Please just open up the door.

What is lost can still be found.”

I’d hid lies in my closet,

And foul deeds under the rug,

But these words of his were kind,

And they gave my heart a tug.

So I opened up the door,

And I let him come inside.

I brought out some stale crumpets,

And I swallowed down my pride.

He swept out all of the dust,

And mended what had decayed.

He took up in the guest room;

He settled here and he stayed.

Walking the Tightrope.

Welcome to the circus…

I decided to join the circus

Because it seemed like it would be fun.

The people were said to be magic;

The atmosphere was a loaded gun.

“I’m running away to the circus!”

I told both my parents with a grin.

They warned me to be oh so careful,

And make it back home to them again.

I wanted to learn how to juggle,

To walk a tight-rope and breathe fire.

I was lusting for an adventure;

Of magic I would never tire.

I never expected the falling,

The bruises, and the burns on my face.

I should have known right then and there

That the circus was not a safe place.

But the Ring-master was so charming,

And the old lions gave me no fright,

So I practiced walking the tight-rope,

Despite my growing fear of the height.

Confidence was like a second skin,

That I wore every time I’d rehearse.

Though what I did was nothing special,

There were certainly acts that were worse.

Time came for the circus to open;

I held my breath along with the crowd.

The glitter of the lights was too bright,

The cacophony of noise too loud.

My friends told me I shouldn’t go on,

And I should have heard their warning bell,

But I still went out on that tight-rope,

And I fell, and I fell, and I fell.


He came into my life like vodka…

He came into my life like vodka—

It was all too much, too fast, too soon.

His lips tasted like a Jell-O shot,

And I ended up drunk before noon.

But now a bitter sun has risen,

And my lover could no longer stay.

It will take so much more than Advil

To make this hangover go away.

Game of Chess.

Let’s play…

We are dancing around the board;

I’m on a black square, you’ve found the white.

You say it’s fine if I hurt you—

I hope that is true because I might.

There’s a knight standing beside me,

And a bishop that beckons you still.

Perhaps we should cut this game short;

By now, we both should have had our fill.

You suggest we let this play out,

And because I don’t want it to end,

I’m willing to finish this round—

Although it’s torture, I won’t pretend.

The pieces are all out of whack;

We are playing a game we can’t win.

But we’re dancing around the board,

And I just want one last little spin.

Checkmate is mine for the taking,

But I want this sick game to go on.

You have made me feel like a Queen,

Though I’m probably only a pawn.

Perhaps you weren’t clear on the rules,

Or thought it was alright to cheat.

My strategy has been all wrong;

The force will knock us off of our feet.

This has cost us both far too much,

But somehow I do not love you less.

We should never have dared to play

Such a goddamn twisted game of chess.

Thin Air.

My mother said I look lifeless…

My mother said I look lifeless,

And I am inclined to agree.

I’ve taken an undead pallor;

You have made a ghost out of me.

The blame’s not entirely yours,

Though you certainly had a hand.

I have done this thing to myself,

Though it wasn’t the least bit planned.

I wanted to make myself scarce,

And disappear into thin air.

Any place is purgatory

As long as you are not found there.