Your Name Has Talons.

I was compulsive, emotional, and had a pen in my hand and my school notebook on my desk.

Drowsy, tired, but still content
tears are how I let my anger vent,
Exhausted and tired, pouring out my last will.
as positive energy takes open opportunity, and rushes a conditioned chill.

Now I feel better,
happy and pleased inside,
That the black wilted party of me...
you
has just died.
And I will shed it off,
never looking back,
except with smug reluctance,
disabling the attack.

That left my heart broken, after these many years.
Yet how warmly I grit a grin.
Crying all these vengeful tears.

•••

Just as you enjoyed...
And now I speak so slow...
you enjoyed my blackened tears...
this you made me know.

Do you enjoy it now?
Or do you really understand...
To you, it's my last ache, the last tear,
and I will speak directly to you, boldly,
no longer crippled with fear.

That you injected into me,
as I developed love,
slow heroin for cold blood,
hallucinogen makes raven appear as dove.

Back through the addictive cycle,
thoughts flow very wary,
even in my slow, shaded haze,
the future never seemed dreary.

'cause we don't know,
when you will get struck,
you get shot with the loving toxic drug,
swift with haze you fall out of luck.

And before you know it,
bruises smirk and gleam,
and you find yourself in a cracked alleyway,
broken fist and
dream.

 

 

Author's Note

Well, I found this from a long while ago, and it expresses a matter very dear to me, and my thoughts were as rushed as my hands as I wrote it, so of course the organization, structure, and flow was not put into consideration. This was not at all thought out, so just keep that in mind if you choose to review, I know it's not my best.