Underneath the Skin

A beautiful monster,
With feelings skin deep.
A villain, a liar, scarred on the surface.
Broken,
With nothing left but a pretty face.
Evil consumes wholly,
Good has no place here.
Inside, outside;
Masks on display.
Creator and destroyer;
A bullet to the missing heart.
There is no hero this time,
Just a winner in this twisted game.
Tie the knot in the noose,
Let the body swing.
Kill the ugliest of them all,
They're the one who's the most beautiful.
Darkness over comes with
A blink of an unrealistic eye.
Don't hesitate,
Finger light on the trigger.
A savior dressed in rags,
A pretend heroine saving the day.
Reality lies in perception,
Tell me what is yours ?

Lessons Learned

Day pass and still she can remember his features exactly. Green-blue eyes. Nervous hands. They shake sometimes, but he doesn't know she notices. He knows so much, yet so little.
He sits, slumped, in his chair. Sitting back, relaxed- yet on edge. Dressed as always. It's an image she wants to keep. She shuts her eyes and conjures his picture once more, commiting it to memory.
It hurts her to think about what the future must inveitably hold. Years will pass. Different paths will be taken. Soon, all ties will lost. All that will remain will be what manages to stay locked in her memory.
He will forget her. To him, she will become but a whisper, an unsettling dream some late and sleepless night. He will forget her name. Lose the letters she composed, and sent. Perhaps he never even read them.
Fate will be cruel to them. The future will be a double edged sword of change and loss. It saddens her to think of it.
For now, she must hold to the chances, the time that remains. She will wait for the moments when their eyes meet, holding each other captive for those few, fleeting seconds. She will cherish the smiles granted to her, the laughter she is sometimes allowed. Each moment, a reminder of what might have been.
A reminder that love, in fact, does not take two. A reminder that respect and friendship do, at times, heal the wounds of rejection, of ignorence. A rejection born not of hate or digust, but a rejection of honesty and perhaps fear. Fear that she might make him feel something. And fear that, perhaps, she already has.

She stares into his eyes, a thousand questions clouding her vision. Questions whose answers left long ago.
He looks away, and she suffocates a little more.
The air around her is heavy, oppressive. The fiber of her being surges with urgency- but never desperation.
A deep sadness clutches her heart, or is it merely her imagination. Her love of the dramatic, the morose. The feeling holds to her with a cold, angry fist. Rather than shattering her, it lingers in its gripping ache.
She stands alone, waiting. Waiting for all of her to be numb. For everything to fade away, like mist over a great glassy sea. She waits for rushing waves to carry her to some forgotten, distant shore. She is always waiting.
His mouth moves, words hang in the air around her. They drug her into a cruel stillness. Nothing to say, even less to feel. Or perhaps too much. Empty.
His hand reaches towards her, uncertain. Unsteady legs carry her backward. Time does not wait.

Terms of Agreement

Her hands are cold. Numb, as she sits before the screen once more. Her mind is full, the page blank. How to put into words what she has to say? Words destroy, words create. Another headache. Eyes that can't see. Ears that can't hear. She wants him to know, needs him to understand. It's not her choice to make, though she gladly would. He has to do it. To be the one to answer. It hangs over them, heavy and cold. One page to explain a lifetime. One page in which to explain. To explain it all. To explain nothing. Nothing. A contradiction to herself. The contradiction of who he is, and who he chooses to be. Cold hands, cold fingers. They aren't numb, they're painfully aware. Words roam around her, hovering hesitantly in the air. She ignores them. It's too important. Or is it? Maybe it's just a waste of time. Another letter that won't be read. Another note that will never find it's way to his hands. It's not supposed to. It's too simple. And he is not simple. The cold spreads, like icy tendrils wrapped mercilessly around her lungs. Can't breathe. Can't speak. Can't think. It's never good enough. Or maybe it's too good. Perhaps his eyes too have been shut. His mind. His ears. His heart. Perhaps the ice has taken over there as well. Words destroy, words create.

A hero dressed in holely jeans and scuffed shoes. A wanderer flung amidist a cruel ocean of normalcy. Where's he from? She doesn't know. His identity is pinned to his sleeve, yet she doesn't understand. A false dream, a reality spun of glass and the clicking of keys. Save it to a hard drive. She looks up. His hair has fallen across his face, casting a shadow across one eye. Bitter laughter, half-formed sentences, and constant struggle. One who lives versus the one who exists. Her hand shakes. She shuts her eyes. Focus. Focus. Focus. The secret goes with her. Shut out amongst dusty pages and dead ideas. Bullets to the heart, bullets to the flesh. The keys click faster, with an unspoken urgency that screams through the dead end she's at. Where's he going? A destination. A journey. A road to nowhere. He's cold, dead, lost. Doomed to wander. Doomed to know. Focus. Focus. Focus. Crumpled papers scattered across the floor, like white flowers picked before their time. Twisted thoughts, stories with no end. Help him someone screams. Free him. She can't. Words force themselves out of her mind. Hope. A four letter word. She laughs. Hope can't help him, only she can. She is hope. There is no hope. She is nothing. She is everything. The creater, the destroyer. Focus. Focus. Focus. A companion, a friend. Give him one. Creater, destroyer. Help him. Her eyes squeeze shut. Her hands frame each side of her face. Focus. Focus. Focus. Pain pounds in her head. Make it stop. Set him free. His eyes bore into hers from the page. A peircing blue. No, gray. Like a puddle on the street. Her fingers move of their own will. Words. Sentences. A page slips from her hand. Hits the floor. Set him free. Let him go. Focus. Focus. Focus. Step back. Tell him. Keep the secret. He knows. Set him free.