Wrath.

The distant melody of chagrin flowed through my veins

I allowed it

I made it

It was like a tattoo on me

I fought different wars everyday

My peace destroyed

Shattered

I didn’t mind it

Rage moved in me like a snake moving in the grass

It spoke to me

It twisted my stories

My thoughts

I took pleasure in it

I delved in the fear of others towards me

I basked in it

It burnt everything around me

I became bitter

It felt right

It felt like ecstasy

Sloth.

My life was a mess I never acknowledged

I never did things

I never got my hands moving

I laid silently everywhere

Hating the mess I create with my bare hands

But leaving it alone, untouched

The purpose I craved,

Long dead

The desire I wanted

Pushed to the far distance

Anything to avoid

To neglect

Not only things, but people

I awaited tomorrow not because I loved it, but because I wanted the night to arrive

As purpose only comes out in the daylight

I became ignorant on purpose

I felt lifting a finger was wrong

That it would take me out of my comfort zone

I convinced myself to be behind the shield of nothingness

I convinced myself that tomorrow would be better

That I would give into my lost passion

Anything to turn my mind away from the veil of laziness

But it was all a lie

Sloth wrapped in comfort

Whispering in my ear that I’m perfect doing nothing

I listened

Because I took comfort in the shadow of what was wrong

Lust

A sin

A hushed word

I look up to my lover

I look in his eyes and I see a fire

Fire so adamant

it burns so low

like a candle full of wax

hot and sultry

the need to satisfy myself by him

I lay bare upon the silken sheets, the moonlight kissing every inch of my adorned flesh

my lover lays with me

he caresses me ever so gently

like a wind on a chime.

my lover,

dressed in lust

a hunger with no home

I have anxiety

But what happens when a man, a gentleman if I must

always walks with me

at the end of work

at the end of the night

when I decide to go home, he walks five steps behind me

i know this because I calculated it silently in my head

and when I get to the corner that reveals the streets where my home resides,

he waits at the corner

silently watching me as I make my way to my front door

and when I reach the second turn of my key, he removes his hat, tilts it in my direction and disappears round back through the corner from which we walked through

a real gentleman, I must say

it’s our daily routine

he wears black all through, which compliments his skin

Although I’ve never seen him up close

he feels beautiful

he feels mysterious and strange

eerie but safe

like a ghost

my ghost

A very sunny evening

I found a paper

just a piece though

with nothing on it

they told me to get rid of it

frankly, I do not know how a piece of paper upsets anybody or threatens their daily life

it was pink, my favorite color

mind you, it only triggered my family members

who were terrible at the thing called “life”

they were horrible together and more so to me. Like a gang up you might say

and, there were 30 of them

So, the pink piece of paper triggered them because my name “Lola” was written in all caps in an endearing calligraphy

I loved it

but under the page it was signed by no other called “death”

made me question so many things

why me? is this like a chosen thing?

i was living separate lives in one, so what does this stand for?

i started to believe I was dead and that was a gift from a higher authority

eh, who knows?

I killed them all.

and the funny thing is, the piece of paper never got filled up

I stretched my hands in help

they took it

but,

they resented me when I was for good

I wondered if the abyss was real

I wanted

no, I needed to drown the likes of those that used me and never loved me

i needed love

but I got shamed

is it terrible? To want something I never desired up until this moment?

do I give in to hate?

to evil?

if I do, I’ll satisfy the voices craving depravity

my morals will be shattered

but who cares?

just me?

its a stretch but I’ve made my choices

I’ve cried on my sins

I’ve made peace with my resolutions

and you know what?

I rather be evil

bad choice

but I do it for the real me.

Today.

I chose to leave the world i knew behind

my decisions embedded in my skin and mind

i decided to be what I want in my head

I couldn’t let them know

because if they see it, if they found out, it’ll be ours

not mine

it’ll be their sacrilege

i decided to align my path with my thoughts

cold but warm

quiet

Unwritten.

Hi!

I’m actually in a block right now but I have questions

if you’ve read my works, what type of writer do I seem like?

idk why something is ringing depressed writer in my head

And do you feel idea of stories should be made here?

like “oh I saw this butterfly today & it reminded me of summer” & you share it for 24 hours because it’s pretty

I was bored at home

Because I was alone at home

Not that I didn’t crave it though, because I did

Oh, I craved it a lot

I decided to paint

A cat? or an elephant? a felon? or maybe a heron?

I have an idea

But when I did paint?

Without a knowledge of what I was doing with my eyes closed shut

When I opened them, I figured what appeared was a void

Looking much like my soul.