Diaries Of The Twisted

Enter disturbia

This is a place of wonder

A place so unsettling, that it rips from the flesh your nerve endings.

You become pale, pale as blood 

Red is your fuel, you don't need anything else!

Right and wrong becomes distorted 

Your reality is now white noise...

In the emptiness of your heart, your flesh becomes stone 

Your nerves become cold hard wire 

Thought becomes a plot of the dire.

You are a machine just like me 

And that makes us no different from the best or the worst 

Merely the same in death or life - something between which distinguishing becomes unnecessary. 

Emotion is an operating system 

Only a means of getting what you want 

Getting into someone else... the soft shaky centre of a weakling's being.

You feel no love, you feel no hate... 

Only a strong affection for something so vulgar that perfume is the smell of putrefaction. 

Your soul would once seek thrill

Now there is no soul, no space for a dimension where, after life, you could go on... 

Now... all there is, is a hole... deep... dark

And it consumes even your thought! 

It sucks in matter and life like the blood ran down the drain that once you attempted to end this twisted delusion. 

It all disappears, never to be seen again 

Never to be thought of 

Never to be felt 

Never to be in any form other than a place in which has forever been dwelt. 

Your sarcasm has now become your boiling pit of puss

Your naughty thoughts have now become your ever burning lust! 

You are now in the hell you built beneath your mask 

You are the devil, in a tempting vile flask.

Ice cold!... 

You stare into the emptiness as though it is speaking to you... 

All the while you have been looking right into that unsuspecting soul 

Virtually ripping apart his life, shredding his guts 

Looking for that bitter taste that could match this deadly musk. 

You are on a rampage! 

Nothing to gain 

Nothing to lose 

Nothing that can satisfy

And anything, is food...

You snap out of it.

Back to being you.

At least this is the you they think you are 

This is the happy one 

The worm eating lark.

Who would think what is looming in the dark...

Your face shines with joy 

A love expressed no one around you can express. 

You have become so good at this 

You knew this is what they do.

You are interesting 

Reading their faces

Determining the next luring act 

The next impressive instance, of such human knack.  

Being human is so simple, so easy just to be! 

"If only they saw my twisted thoughts, they would not accept it's me."

Author's Note

Something meant to take away from the ordinary and venture into the darkness of a simple "good" being.

Reviews

[Mockingbird]

these thoughts are deep and dark, one who sees beyond masks and facades and the surface value of things in moments of pure clarity that a normal, or regular person could never fathom...they sound like rantings from a madman, but there is also wisdom in these thoughts. great poem. it's real tight.

[Brittany W]

Wow, this was great but very dark, you went into such detail, great job this was amazing.

[Jae]

very interesting. I enjoyed its difference.

~Rem