Shells.

We’re shells, we meld, we break and we grow. We move across sand to find another home. We move into a new resting place to overcome being alone. But being a shell does not mean they’re all the same because they are so very different, they are all that remains. They are fossils, ancient artifacts, dug up by the future, placed in glass boxes to last.

Hidden Monsters.

I’m not a demon, this is not my shell. Fighting, raging, fierceness within. Let me go, unleash the monster, he’s already out straight from inside. I’m radioactive, watch me blow. Disassemble the world, surprise the crowd, cannot be contained, biochemicals.

Push you down, out of control, heart racing, mind blown. I resist me, you release me.

With me there’s a monster, he’s fighting for life, suppression of the past, making him weak. I expand, he contracts, busting seams, gigantic revolt.

We fight and we fight, but she is fierce. A lion, a tiger, a bear-- amiss. None of these can mark the monster inside, but a scorpion will, darkness’s sidekick.

Firecracker, spitfire, raging, fighting, confused, rhyming, laying, dying. Inside me, inside you, are you going to let it show? Death by chemical, inhale poison, exhale love. This isn’t lust, this isn’t revolt.

In my bones, bass and beats, overtaking the mind, showing monsters, redness. Fast asleep, hurting from burns, brutal and crying, this monster’s myself. Lethal and lonesome, its motives that match mine, with hopes and aspirations crushed by societal design.

Painted red, seeing red, feeling red, drawing red. Looking down, the monster feels. It’s feeding on memories that should not have been. Pushing for revolution.

Music dies, the clock lies, we’ve stopped in time and I’m stuck below. Floating high, breaking free, the monster, again, no longer hidden within me.

Beatdown.

Barns burning, bullies and beatdowns, the things you have done to me. Scars tell a story but you are not there, fresh wounds don’t appear, in my mind they just tear. Crazy, forgotten, the thoughts I can’t bear. I left you, you left me, nude with no care.

Lonesome Hearts.

Screw the ones with the lonesome hearts because manipulation is at its finest during dark. We talk and we pray, converse and persuade, but the darkness reclaims the light.

She lives in a place where the darkness can’t reach, so far in a fairytale even I cannot beat. A fairytale somewhere too far for us to find, she closes her eyes, sees a dark paradise. Lonesome, so lonely, heart left so sad, a wonderland mistaken for a crude old man.

“The King, he reigns,” all the followers say, “The King, he is grand, we have to obey.”

Thought to be kindness, the King holds his own. Vivacious? No, his heart left oh so alone. Just as the lady is stuck in her land, the King holds his crown, sinking into quicksand.

Lonesome hearts are misleading, they really want love, but go to find it in ways that ache and disrupt. Hate to the fate that misleads you this way, but it is your darkness, not mine, that leaves bitter tastes.

So screw the ones with lonesome hearts, because manipulation is its finest at dark. Manipulate minds, manipulate me, my dear, my dear, oh how I shall flee. Create a place, a grand fairytale, with kings and queens and mad hatters, I will. To drink tea all day, mistake madness for wits, shrink and grow tall, play croquet with misfits. Battles and lovers, viridity unclaimed, I create fairytales of beliefs, not manipulation games.

Leave lonesome hearts alone in the dark because darling, they are not my thing. So we’ll sit and we’ll pout, let’s cry tears and self doubt, all for your little childish craves.

Chalk Outline.

Jane Doe number one, Jane Doe number two. Anonymous was all she wanted to be. Dead to the world, lost through love, cold and blue, lack of blood running through. Craving the need to be unknown, dying in her mind to not end up like you; you’re just like me.

Worlds collide in her mind, but no face can be placed on who was left in the chalk outline. Keep returning to the scene of the crime, the battles of the two fight, they lie. Crossed and beaten, cursed and cut, shattered and forgotten, they cannot rhyme. Two as one, or maybe one as two, a constant battle waiting for reign over Jane Doe’s mind. Concept of anonymity, lost in transit, unknown doesn’t exist, the world certainly bans it. Left behind a chalk outline of who she used to be, but the rain washed it away, almost immediately.

Jane Doe is me, Jane Doe is you. Fight and win or fight and lose, being anonymous is up to you.

Fuel, You Fool.

Fathom existence, finish the maze, fire passion, we must behave. Fuel the ignition, feel the spark, the light in your eyes erases my dark. Like the ribcage I protect my heart, but follow through and the marrow will part. Enter, ease, enlighten me. Hold my breath, I find it hard to breathe. Breathless and speechless, your smile appears.

Existence of us, reviving me, sorrows burned, you let me be. Explore and find dead ends alike, only with help will I make it out alive, I might. We will make it out alive, we will finally feel alive. Fire, passion, behaving thieves, stealing my heart, harmony and melody, your voice like music to my ears.

Love, Hope.

Inside all of us is hope. Inside all of us fear. It sits on our shoulders, it is reflected in our eyes. It is distraught, feelings prevalent of being alone. What is there to be fearful of? There’s a string attached to dreams. It unravels, bit by bit. With each thread loosened, hearts get heavy. But there are no hearts, only stones. Dark pieces of rock composed of ancient, foreign matter, suppressing a being that should be so much more alive. Blocking, resenting, protecting, when it should not be.

Opening, hoping, reaching. Where is hope, in a heart, in a soul? It is torn, crushed and lost. Shattered like glass dropped from fifty feet above. A broken vase, a faded memory, pain unraveling the hopes of dreams once so loud. Heavy heart, heavy rock, holding you down. This is not hope, it cannot be. Fear taking on the face of hope. It burns, like a hot coal in your hand. The anger, the pain, the hurt, ignited by fear. Hope is masked by fear. Fire of love, ignited by hope.

Inside all of us is hope. It must fight past the fear. Like fire and rain, they conflict. Burn or flood, heat or cold, hope or fear, love or loss. Faded, lost, found, loved. After all, what is there to be fearful of?

I am with you, I am in reach. - Love, Hope.