Dec, 2005 Poem:
This girl I know, she pretends to be a beast.
Prey on the innocent; she hopes to feast (what a silly rhyme)
But her wait won’t let her sway that awful way,
So her claws retract and wings slowly appear.
She’s the angel that everyone talked about.
They said she’d come down when he needed her.
But her spirit is fighting to be freed.
This life is difficult when you feel alone.
Don’t take for granted the luck that you have with love.

I see her dig into your skin, you cry in pain and she smiles so easily.
You cry out loud, your voice bouncing off the walls as she breaks the skin once more.
You’re panting and heaving, unable to move as the light fills up the room.
Then tears come rolling down her cheeks and she’s the saint that you sought after.
All these years of waiting for her to come to your aide.
Who would of thought that it was she who would cause that pain?
Who would of been able to better help you, than she?

She told me later, after I left –not wanting to watch.
That she bandaged your wounds and kissed your forehead.
You started pouring out your hearts contents.
Into her hands she made sure that nothing spilled.
Until the last breathe, it was then you felt relieved.
And watched her swallow everything with ease.

Your instinct is to stay but finally she makes you leave.
You’re better off than before and wonder what happened in your heart.
It’s changed to something better, nothing you thought it could have been before.
You look back and see only that silky fuchsia ribbon on the ground.

She’s off again, letting the tears fill up her heart.
Will this never stop; must I always watch this part?
She cries again as the wings finally disappear,
Left on this Earth and in the cycle of discontent.
Her soul is bound to only one.
And in the end, she’ll see…