This Isnt Your Fault

This Isn’t Your Fault

I promise I’m not sad. 

I promise I’m not sad. 

It isn’t your fault.

This wasn’t your cause. 

It’s entirely mine alone.

For being shattered to the bone. 

I say I’m okay,

Although we both know I’m not. 

This isn’t your fault.

This wasn’t your cause. 

I’m a mistake,

Made far too many times.

Over and over.

A failure.

Letting down those who matter most. 

That’s who I am.

A jealous wannabe. 

I can’t except someone new. 

This falls upon no one else but me. 

A burden.

A burden.

Your burden. 

I should just burn. 

Let this darkness swallow me whole. 

I stand for nothing.

Useless.

Rubbish.

Cruel.

Please just let me burn. 

I believe it’s now my turn. 

Put me out of my misery. 

Weak.

Selfish.

Repulsive. 

Just a little self-destructive. 

Death seems to be a considerable solution. 

I won’t.

The pain will blossom. 

Spread to the others who show care. 

I wouldn’t dare to hurt them. 

Not ever.

- (d.n.k) 

Roses and Blood

Flowing down,

Dripping from the wounds,

It is the vivid color of a rose. 

My hands.

The walls.

The corpses.

Are painted with it.

I feel rather amused.

With their lifeless eyes,

That brought me to you.

I tried to deny,

But by doing so,

I fell madly, 

In love with you.

I cannot love,

Until you choose to love me.

Just in case,

I’ll give you no choice.

Even if that isn’t right. 

Because I choose you.

With blood and roses,

To become one with me,

For life.

(d.n.k)

Siren

O’ enchanting voice, 

I haven’t a choice,

But to be lured. 

With screams gone unheard. 

Lost in this tearful, alluring melody.

Numbing sadness,

Has sprouted through. 

On and on this will go,

Until higher above, she rose. 

Eyes of exquisite silver, 

Her face of porcelain, 

Lips of freshly spilled blood,

How terrifyingly beautiful.

Razor teeth smile,

As you beckon me to join you. 

One step,

Down and down I fall.

It’s too late,

I have realized.

That by the call of the Siren,

I had already died. 

(d.n.k)

Garden of Wildflowers

The Garden of Wildflowers,

Such a mystical place. 

Nothing could possibly replace,

The lilacs,

The daisies,

And gnarly vines. 

As well as trees of every kind. 

Branches bristle from high above,

The wind whispers and whirls, 

From here and far beyond. 

The pathways are of finest stone.

The sun is brightly shone. 

The Garden of Wildflowers,

Hold my every desire. 

(d.n.k) 

My Mind

Jagged and yearning.

Frozen but burning. 

The pages are turning.

This isn’t hurting. 

Vivid emotions,

Such as love and devotion. 

I fear to feel them.

This is my mind. 

Sometimes blanking.

Sometimes imagining. 

Consistent aching. 

This is my mind.

Darkness without light. 

A world upside down, 

Where wrong is right. 

An endless fight.

This is my mind. 

My mind is this;

A swing and a miss. 

A loveless kiss. 

A feline hiss. 

Hot spring mist. 

An agitated, shaking fist.

This and that, 

Is My Mind. 

- (d.n.k) 

The Beach

The sand between your toes.

The day simply goes.

The deep, deep ocean. 

Waves of fluid motion. 

The sun’s radiating warmth,

That rests upon your skin. 

Indulging yourself into a book,

May very well be a sin. 

Let the relaxation begin. 

Shrug off all your worries,

There is no need to stress. 

Focus on peace,

Wholesomely,

It’s the best. 

The wind in your hair,

No piercing stares,

Nor glares. 

Succumb to the salty depths,

Haven’t a damn care. 

You will realize that contentedness,

Is never out of reach. 

Just hurry along to the nearest beach. 

(d.n.k)