Sneek Peek At The Void Book Two: ExileBear's claws scrabbled at the rough, crumbling rock. He clung to the face of the cliff helplessly, unable to pull himself back up. "*BENJI! Help!" He yelped as one of his back paws nearly lost its grip on the tiny ledge. "HELP!" He called again, more desperately. Finally, Benji's face appeared in place of the dark, stormy sky. "Why, hello." He said calmly, in a not-at-all Benji-ish way. "Help me up!" Bear urged. Benji studied his paws for a painfully slow heartbeat before replying, "So. You need my help for once, huh, halfbreed?" "What?!" Bear gasped, staring at him in confusion. "You heard me. You're a filthy halfblood." Benji's lip curled. "But it wouldn't do to have you die here." He gingerly extended a paw, which Bear grasped in his teeth and pulled himself up, staring at his old friend in shock. "Wh-what do you mean? I'm a pureblood!" Benji tsked. "Oh, they never told you the truth~ I supposed they did tell you that you were a pureblood, practically born a hero
Tired...I'm tired of playing these gamesI'm tired of living this lifeI'm tired of breathe, it'll all get betterBecause you lied.Its not getting better.Its getting so much worse...
Free.They're asking you to rememberJust so you can forget.I'll never bend, never bowI'm stubborn to the end.You can grovel and snivel and whine,That's just fine be me.But I will never do what they demand,Because I want to be free.
.Its funny howSome people can justBlend into a crowdYou've seen them all your lifeBut never bothered to ask their nameAnd yet we say we care for everyone?
..........I don't seeWhy people yell whatI already know About myselfAt meI knowThat I'm messyAnd that I'm not the best at everythingI was there when I knew it for myselfSo you don't haveTo tell me.
IfIf I were to love you,BlindlyWould you guide me to your heart?If I were to miss you,DeaflyWould you call for my empty ears to come?If I were to tell you,MutelyWould you hear my silent cries?If I were to hold you,UnfeelinglyWould you alwaysTell me lies?
on mo(u)rningssome days the church bells are like trumpets,and then again, never the happy kind.it’s only monday morning and already someoneis in need of flowers. or, miracles.say god took the week off yet the prayerskeep pouring in like open wounds. what a cruel joke,that this ground refuses to grow no matter how manybodies we give to hold between its teeth;say we are all killing ourselves, some of us are just much better at itbe baton or bullet or building but nothing after.maybe this was the miracle all along, this disappearing act.then again, maybe just the brass afterwards.and then again, never the happy kind.some days i hear the ghosts filling the streets like children doevery one of their faces smiling, and alive.
you're the coffeepaint by numbers and my writers blockare having sex again. i can't do anythingcreative on my own anymore. we arescattered snapshots, disorganized,not in order, and i'm my own "out of order"sign on a bathroom stall door in a publicwashroom. my clavicles won't let go of my ankles.i sleep in diagonals and wake up with"i-slept-all-wrong" and "i-have-a-stiffness-in-my-neck-and-a-crick-in-my-back."i had intercourse with purity,i used dirt as laundry detergent,i slept with insomnia as my pillow,and this morning i ate my hygienein the shower. tan lines were typewrittenon my cheeks when i wore your uglyfingers. you are the coffee stain ofi-wish-i-didnt-do-that on my teeth.you are the wine stain of i-don't-remember-what-i-did-last-night-but-i-know-it-was-stupidwithout the i-don't-remember part and minusthe wine. let's go fishing and reel in someof that makeup that covers up upper lefthand placements and downright fuckups.my notebook is a room and all the lettersare all t
if.if you could touch your fingerto the space between my breastsand surrender your thoughtsto the black hole in my head;if you could find my faceamidst a sea of replicasand let me listen to your voiceuntil i submerge in sleep;if you could breathe my namewhile remaining fully clothedand send shivers down my spinewith only the touch of our fingertips;if you could let me complete you,depend on me like a lover shouldand show no shame in who i amthen i will love you with a fervorno other being on this earthcould even imagine.
boy who bleeds elephant tusksso you know how sometimesa voice tells you that you needme? you know how you alwaysavoid it? I think tonight you shouldfollow the direction of the crazy voiceand see where you end up.it's 10:43 p.m. and i'm eating leftoverpizza and listening to kissing familiesby silversun pickups. I've spent the wholeday braless, but just the last tenminutes heartless. I did not feel sorryfor the toilet when i shoved a plungerdown its throat, because I pretendedit was you.there are lies stuck between my teethand I am bored so I'm going to floss anddistribute them to people like you.I am sucking pity through a strawbecause I am desperate. I'm in my room,looking out the window, wishing I wasoutside because all I see is where elseI could be, just like your heart is an emptyroom by death cab for cutie says. I wonderif when I told you i'm here for you, it actuallymeant I'm somewhere else for you, withoutme even realizing it.you hate the touch of a hand- you preferthe walls instea
The End of the Twentieth Century I measure words,probability in a stranger’s eyea fatal attraction to lightlingering in my pockets, like a penny, or a thought: your eyes, they speak of loss. Hand in hand, the leap before the fall. Autumn leaves in Summer heat trip softly, sensuously falling over themselves likepaper airplanes and flagging tongues in the wind. Freedom is a feeling, validation a release from feeling: live, if you want- Always offended, never ashamed,a fallen empire built upon the ruins ofa fallen empire built upon the reunion of ‘I do’ – measuring the words in weighted probabilities, &
For the Encounters I Never HadI released my regrets like a million balloonschasing the sky with their bright round bodies --wingless martyrs caught each tiny breath of airand soared,a moment of epiphanywhen your rubbery skin puncturesand the soul escapes.There is no element light enough to lift me away,no instrument to sever the strings that earthmy tiny anklets --I sway with the seasonsas if I am surrounded by an ocean,unable to tread water fast enough to run,nor find the reach to break the surfacewhere those regrets float momentarily,winking in the sunlight before they coast away,waiting for my realisation --they pollute my conscienceuntil I am ready to let them leave.I blow watery kisses as I watch them fly --tiny polka dots dodging clouds,out of sight.
WillYou may thinkyour soulslashed;I assure you,it is but bruised.Your rose petalswill bleach redback to pink;your veinswill sing redback to blue.Your heartpumps rustand iron.That must bewhy your willis so strong.
.can you hearmy mouth -my cerberusguardingthe hellinside me
9.7i am but a weary passengerwondering whomight be missing me - nobodycan tell whether this is just a famineor an infestation,it's strange how that works - here,maybe you are lying beside meor above mebut i am suffocating - love'snot one of those things thatyou can forgeteasily, not quite like - me.
.I wish that I couldGo back to the timeWhen my worst worryWas not getting enough chocolate syrup on my icecreamAnd my worst fearWas the villian in a storybookBut I have come so farAndIHateMyselfForGrowingUp.