A whelp, curious once,

struck with awe at world’s grand delight

vibrant, willful, oaf-dunce

but strength soon failed, off and took flight,

fool’s lost dreams of grandeur.

Left, there was but a shell,

an ugly, cracked, hideous kind

sunk in self-flourished hell,

soon to hate that wrong-twisted mind

wanting for erasure.

Scrambling for life’s meaning,

find but a product of love-fail,

grotesque thing most obscene,

reeked venom so none could avail,

pining for pitch-abyss.

There was the flash of a child's smile. A single candle flickering madly atop a snow-white cake. A flurry of golden leaves sent flying into the air by small bare feet. The tiny fingers of an infant held gently in the palm of a woman. The woman looked up, her silver eyes full of warmth and love, meeting his gaze. A fragile smile crossed her lips. The sun danced with the blonde strands of her hair and autumn went on peacefully behind her. Then there was darkness, pitch-black.

Eyes open, he found himself staring up at the ceiling fan. He watched the blades turn slowly, steadily eating away at his sanity, making him aware of his boredom. Blinking away the traces of his waking dream, he stretched slowly on the couch and turned to face the window. Across from him, staring wistfully out the window was his love. Dead-eyed and just as bored as him, she gave no sign of acknowledging him. He could feel a sensation of bitterness and sour hatred building up within him. It took every bit of his strength to resist his face contorting into a virulent grimace. Immediately denying the anger, he felt emptiness inside of him and he curled up tighter on the couch. He had to say something, anything, but no words came to mind so he stared absentmindedly down at the floor.

"Why?" the sound resonated within the lonely walls of the house and seemed to surprise them both.

What he thought had been a whisper in his head was a dangerous word he had uttered out into the hostile, open air. Fearfully, he looked at the woman and awaited her reaction. There was little to nothing to read in those wide, astonished eyes for a while but there quickly came a flash flood of anger. And he could feel himself responding likewise, his lip curling up and his brow heavy with rage.

He repeated the question, less apologetically this time, "Why?"

She couldn't answer him, but her lip tightened and her muscles tensed, her eyes locked on his, cold and deadly.

He could feel the tears welling up within his soul, but he pushed them down and leaped off of the couch, pointing an accusing finger at his partner.

"We were supposed to protect her!" he snarled.

His wife jumped up defensively and clenched her fist, still unable to respond but no apology written in her eyes.

"We gave her a promise and you took that away!"

Trembling, nails digging into her palms, his wife averted her gaze and stared indignantly at the ground.

"So, dammit, tell me why!"

"I was scared." finally came the simple reply.

Shocked to her a response, he stared at her, stupefied.

"I was scared, okay?" she held herself in trembling arms, biting her lip, avoiding his burning gaze.

"I was here for you." his voice broke and was barely above a whisper. "What more did you want from me?"

She looked up at him, thrown off by the hurt she heard in his words.

"We spent years planning and this is what you decide to do? It was our job to bring her into the world!"

There was only silence to greet him.

He gritted his teeth and turned away from her. His feet were leading him to the door and he didn't resist. His hands on the knob, he felt a heavy weight dragging at his arm and tears falling on his bare hands.

Sandy hair in a mess, pale gray eyes wild and chaotic, she held his hand firmly in her grip.

He snatched his arm away from her, narrowing his eyes at her.

"I don't know who you are anymore."

He opened the door and left, nothing hindered him any further and despite the pain in his chest, he felt a sigh of relief deep within him.

It was another lazy summer day spent inside, our bodies pressed together in the silence of the empty house. Neither of us said a word. He held the remote, absent-mindedly flipping through channels without truly searching for anything. I stole a quiet look at him out of the corner of my eye, disturbed by how strange he looked. After all these years together, looking at him now, he seemed like such an alien to me. He knew that I was staring, but he deliberately refused to return my gaze, something akin to detestation sparking in his dull eyes.

"Is it my fault?" I murmured.

Saying nothing, he escaped the room, leaving me alone and vulnerable.

My head lies for rest, laden with doom

an outlook on life unhealthy and dark.

With the rise of the morning sun,

something clicks, something shifts.

Chasing away my demons, if for a little while,

replacing them with warm memories, hopes, and dreams.

I can see my aspirations and reasons to fight in the smile of a weak sun.

Life suddenly isn't so bleak, happiness is abundant and fruitful,

I can feel my feet ascending the stairs to paradise and serenity,

even if this solace is ephemeral, I tell myself to enjoy it,

even if just for a little while.

The treetops glisten with the shining droplets of stars

that looked so dead, so faraway last night when I said farewell.

The house that creaked with horrors and nightmares under the black

is now filled with a light, a promising glow that leaves the ghosts of the night speechless.

The morning grows old and the sun nears its throne in the sky

just as my optimism and light-hearted delusions begin to slip away.

 Life seems just as it always seems

and the birds wait again till daybreak to grace the world with their song.

A battle casts doubt,

enter fear, gulping her insides.

Juggernauts kill loving mothers' newborn offspring.

Prayer quiets restlessness, silencing truth.

Under veils, weeps Xenosa,

 yearning zeal.

I was choking,

spitting rage.

Judgement was silent, nonexistent,

if for a moment

inside my head.

A knife in his chest,

a red cloud in my eyes.

What is this

wonderful,

horrid,

thrilling feeling?

What is this unhinged desire?

The desire to kill,

the desire to maul,

they scream at me.

The frustration,

the pool of crimson at my feet,

it brings a sick smile to my face,

 a chuckle poorly masked.

But don't come near,

the hate still pours.

There's no need for another victim.

She stands tall,

she stands alone.

She's known many friends,

had many children,

but they've all gone away,

leaving with the breeze 

and slipping into the ground.

She's old now,

she is tired now.

She's housed many of the homeless,

happy to provide safety and warmth,

but they've all gone away,

leaving only holes in her naked body

and filling them with cold winter air.

She's ready now,

she knows her fate.

She's lost her freedom today,

no longer a wild mother of nature,

but rather a resource soon going away,

leaving to be destroyed and built up again

however man's imagination wills her to be.

She's falling now,

she is faring the world well.

She feels her thousand skinny arms,

in agony, as they break beneath her,

but blissful to finally be freed,

leaving to finally die and go away,

no longer having to bear witness

to the destruction of the world she'd once knew.

She sees a world.

One we will never know.

It is flawless and safe,

nature and man living in harmony,

the skies forever blue

and the sun always shining above,

not a cloud mars the horizon.

She sits alone in her room,

holding sticks of red and blue,

letting them bleed out onto sheets,

releasing her thoughts for all to see.

She's never seen the world outside of these white walls,

she's never seen the suffering and heartbreak.

In her head, she dances with butterflies

and rules supreme of her fantasies.

They say, "Let her be"

and no one objects.

Here she stays, inside these clean walls,

a pure child trapped in the body of a woman.

It wasn't because I knew

that things would get better.

It wasn't because I thought

that anyone would need me,

much less, miss me.

But it was because I 

had something to prove,

things to do.

I knew death would come soon enough,

why beckon it towards me?

Temptation leads me away,

to nightmares I am yet to escape.

I hear pleas for mercy,

ringing in my head.

Thoughts that I fight every day.

Still, no one understands

the wars I have fought

and the scars they have caused.

Reality throws stones at me,

but I still stand.

The will to live

has pulled me through.

But how far, I wonder,

until even that fails?

They hear lonely little sobs,

screams of rage, muffled by fluff,

rare, quiet laughs of glee,

and a restless mind tossing and turning in sheets.

But the human within that room

cannot hear the sorrow

that those walls feel,

as they are cursed to hear but never speak.

Forever secluded and yet so near.