She was afterlife in outer city

Limits, Dark Tower, steel behemoth, green

Neon highlights, emerald beams reflect domed

Metropolis, no grass in sight, all concrete

And metal jungles, within the hundredth floor

Alexandria whispered songs afraid

Of missing notes aloud, her eyes consumed

By every bit of data that rushed through

Thin threaded metal tubes hooked to her frail

Turquoise veins, in her comatose state she

Surveyed millions of denizens eat,

Sleep, and fornicate, as a human a

Zoo, LED panels pulsed cyan

And deep blue luminance around each dark

Corner of the expansive chamber, echoes

Returned dreamy choruses and violent

Convulsions, her onyx cloak obscured pale

Features brought by isolation and deep

Meditations from reality, not

An act slipped her gaze, suicides, and warping

Youth, timeless acts from red districts, Pink City

Radiated nights, kids strolling gray streets,

Memories of Golden Era NYC

Alexandria 23, star stumbling

Undergrad, Child of Legion summer, kids

Fight good and evil blurred, roads blocked off, no

Way out, Dreams of debt in LED square,

Nightly raids, siren lights overpower

Scarlet moonbeams, homeless dregs paint white subway

Tiles with trash sourced vomit, restroom breaks in

Any corner with few judges, public

Life made by Legion politics, Old Regime

Stood and spat, commentating politics,

Alexandria bartending in toxic,

Rustic underground dens through NYC

Pits, Devils spoke in origies of daemon

Ceremony, speeches of a New Order,

War rattled an ocean away, drink more

Take the bottle, chat of doom, love her once

More, let the marble steps to Heaven collapse,

Let time stop its God lent motion and let

Rome fall at last, no fires, no death, just cease

As ICBMs hover over the

Masses, If I awake tomorrow I

Will only know despair, in her dark chamber

She retreated from her crumbling throne to

View the uplifting, fiery, ray spewing

Star as she did after fundraisers for

The Legion and infinite party nights,

But when she scanned the canvas sky all she

Saw was the illusion being projected,

It hardly mattered, at this time millions

Of dregs awoke preparing to be consumed

By steel behemoths, piles of corporate

Bricks and dirt, built by timeless barons,

Alexandria tethered to the city,

Never to leave Dark Tower sanctuary,

She viewed Afterlife city for one last

Bit of pleasure, or what could be produced

From a defeated and nihilistic

Mind, soon The Council will meet, Operation

Zero Hour must go into full effect.

Far off Cowell and Aims patrol Pink City….

___________________________________________________________________

(1) Doom: https://theprose.com/post/419897/doom

(2) Historia: https://theprose.com/post/424698/historia

(3) Oblivion: https://theprose.com/post/426993/oblivion

(4) Oceanside: https://theprose.com/post/428493/oceanside

(5) Apocalypse: https://theprose.com/post/432306/apocalypse

(6) Entity: https://theprose.com/post/435150/entity

(7) Academy [doesn’t really count but it exists]: https://theprose.com/post/454455/academy

(8) Timeless: https://theprose.com/post/485400/timeless

(9) Eden: https://theprose.com/post/503844/eden

(10) Legion: https://theprose.com/post/525083/legion

(11) Afterlife: https://theprose.com/post/525696/afterlife

(12) Hellfire: https://theprose.com/post/530083/hellfire

(13) Deliverance: https://theprose.com/post/612211/deliverance

My deepest darkest shit that I don't tell a soul is ...

I love women with sexy feminine voices and ways, I melt like butter, but because I can't tell which women are gay or straight, I don't say a word and melt all over.

I don't have the balls to ask her if she get down like that. So like a punk I just smile it off. I have been single for a year, because my punk ass won't say anything to women that melt my being. Danggggggggggg. LMAO :)

In my dreams, I used to dance with Love.

His face was always a blank canvas for a future lover to embody one hopeful day.

I think heartbreak is seeing his face become that of Love.

Then one day, realizing he was not Love at all.

He was a man, with faults like all humans, and these faults outweighed any love I could give to build a bridge to his heart.

I am now on the sidelines in my own dream, watching Love dance with every person but me.

And isn't that what heartbreak is?

Looking into your future and realizing you put all your hopes in the wrong person.

A person who only saw your value through the sadness you carried between your thighs.

I accepted the love I thought I deserved: which is nothing, nothing good enough to build a home with.

I think my heart has broken thousands of times. But he was the first person to trash it.

I have been picking up the pieces ever since.

I am picking up parts of myself I forgot even existed.

Heart break creates a mosaic of sadness so beautiful you can't help but cry at all the pieces you once possessed.

But my patchwork heart still beats. Still rattles out hope that one day I will find all the pieces I once had and then some-

And I will hold my heart with care,

after it has been neglected for so long:

Broken and still beautiful.

when we kiss it's fire, burning our lips and tongues and teeth. we can't pull away, can't look away, my eyes lock onto yours; your kiss trails down my neck, leaving fire in its wake. your breath makes me shiver, your whispers linger in my ear.

i love you(r touch).

you make me fire, you make me burn, fiery and passionate and bright, until i can't take it anymore. until my fingers are burnt at the tips and i cry ashes and my hair smells of smoke.

i hate you.

we do not love each other. there's nothing in your eyes but desire, and it burns me to look.

the warm touch of love is soft and sweet, leaving butterflies in its wake and honey dripping from my fingers. but this is lust, and it burns and hurts and chokes me until i can't breathe,,, but i can't let go of you,

i want you

to burn me. x

my heart never broke

because it was small and pale,

wilting like a white rose

left in a shadow

or spilled milk

fading solid

wrapped in sheer walls that made me think

I could pretend

it was free

It's like a stab to the heart, but sharper...

Like a stab to the head but bigger...

It's the definition of grief, sadness, anger, and every emotion you could ever feel...

It's pain inside, pain outside, pain everywhere, pain anywhere...

The tears fall, burning in every step...

The voice is stuck but cannot wait to escape...

It's fire, rain, haile, thunder, smoke, chaos...

But it's also nothing at all.

No sound, no thoughts.

Nothing.

Like existance itself is an unreal concept.

It's freedom but you don't need it.

And you feel, but really don't.

Because it all just bled away.

I have a jar of hearts on my dresser. Most everyone does. My mother gave it to me when I was little. She told me to be careful who to give my hearts to, for one day I would run out. I took her words and my jar and set them down to think. I knew I was only to give my hearts to those I truly cared about and wanted them to care about me.

I felt obligated to give some to my mother and then also to my father. I gave some to my brothers and sisters. I gave some to my best friends and some to my neighbors too. When my relatives flew down to have dinner with us, they asked me for some hearts, and I, of course, obliged.

There were plenty of hearts to go around. I thought that my mother must be wrong, I could never run out. Slowly, one by one my hearts left my jar. I gave them to my favourite teachers, my friendly co-workers, my boyfriends who left without a word, my 'friends' who I would hang with for a week or two before they found someone new. I kept giving because that was what I was asked to.

No one refused my hearts, and so they left me. One by one. People drifted out of my life and soon my jar of hearts sat on my dresser. It had only a few hearts left. I knew what happened to people without hearts. They ended up in hopeless hospitals, waiting days and days for a cure that would never come. Doctors were not foolish enough to give their hearts to patients, there were too many begging for hearts, and not enough to fill their jars.

And so I closed my jar and hid it away. It stays, cushioned between pillows and blankets. Protected in a box from the world that takes.

____

My sister visited me the other day. She took my hand and gave me a twirl. We danced without music for the first time, and it felt better than giving away a heart. She told me about her new job. I only understood every other word, but I loved the way she said them.

____

I saw my old friend from grade school in the deli on his lunch break. We chatted and he asked to meet for coffee. I told him I had given up caffeine, so he suggested getting a bite to eat instead. So we did, and it felt like the concept of eternity being described to a small child. I was in awe and we clicked almost immediately, but I did not want him to stop talking. I did not want him to leave.

____

My grandfather died. He gave all his hearts to the hospital. It was over two million that he had collected. I listened as the speaker described his entire life story with a melodic voice of chimes. It was like knowing him for the first time, and I wished I knew him sooner. Apparently, I had an aunt who died at a hopeless hospital, and he did not want any more to suffer the same fate. I'm glad that some of my hearts went to a good cause.

____

A stranger saw that I was lost and took out his ear plugs and asked if I needed directions. He gestured and gave me landmarks to keep me straight. I told him my thanks and he nodded before muting himself back from the world.

____

I found my jar again. I put it on my dresser, where the sun can hit it and it makes the little hearts that are left glow. No, I do not have a full jar of hearts, but I have something even better. My experiences of people that I do not have to know well in order to love them.

I may not ever understand my sister. I may not ever be able to see my old friends without feeling like getting to know an old stranger. I may not ever be able to live up to my grandfather's passion. I may not ever be able to make an impact on others as they do to me, but I can love them for it. Love the moments that teach me to be kind and to love them without giving up my entire jar of hearts.

It is not that I will never give another heart away. It is that when I do chose to give away my hearts, they will be for more than a reason of obligation or because they ask for it. It will be because I care about them and I trust them to care about me.

From the earliest times I can remember; I was someone's doormat or shoulder to cry on.

From childhood friends who turned out to be bullies,

To people who were only interested in what I could offer them.

I tried not to be jaded;

I tried to see that not all people are this way.

Don't know how well that worked out though....

Here I am writing this.

I sit here on this cold night alone remembering loving you. I think of you & the memories we have made and tears fill my eyes. We have laughed so many laughs and cried not as many tears. We have smoked a ton of blunts & cuddled hundreds of nights to sleep. You at times have brought my soul so much peace. You have become a lead person in my life. I value your perspective and melt at your touch. When our lips touch I become completely under your spell, bowing to you at my own will.

When I think of you I also think about all the times you said "You didn't want a girlfriend." and "You didn't love me, just had love for me." All the times you pushed me away, ignored me for weeks, then pulled me back in just to repeat the cycle. You let me pour my heart, soul, emotions, secrets, and love into you for a year without giving me much in return. I never swayed, never wandered, never faltered. Somehow with you being closed off, emotionally detached, & me begging for your attention, I still fell madly deeply in love with you. I remember nights I would just stare at you, begging in my head for you to just love me, for me to just be enough. I knew I would never meet your exceptions no matter how hard I tried. You were better than me.

Trust me, I tried. I wanted to be your everything so badly. That one person who made all the pain, doubt, hate, resentment, and darkness disappear and the light reappear. My own demons, abuse, and neglect left me unable to communicate and provide you with what you needed to be secure in our relationship and for that I am sorry. I am sorry I made you doubt me, my love for you, and us. If I know one thing it was always you. I hope I made you feel that at least once, for a moment. You were my prince charming, knight and shining armor.

You are worthy of all things beautiful and happy. You deserve to have that sparkle in your eyes & smile across your face. You deserve unconditional love from a worthy women. Know your worth & add tax. I will always love you.

Hey, it's me

It's 3 A.M.

You're out again

I wish you would have called.

But I'm not mad

A little sad.

Is it so bad I worry?

Hurry home.

It's not safe out there alone.

Me again.

It's 5 A.M.

The sun will be up soon.

No sign from you.

Couldn't sleep.

Thoughts too deep

with wonder

What you're under

In a ditch

Or beneath covers of another.

Let me know you're on your way.

Say you'll stay

Say anything.

Third times a charm.

Morning alarm.

But still no you.

Are you ok?

Are you alive?

Were you out all night?

Talk to me.

Let me in.

Something isn't right.

We don't feel like we used to.

Please, I don't want to fight.

Another night alone.

I can't do this anymore!

I'm sick of talking to my phone

I'm sick of feeling so unsure.

If you love me, make a peep

So I can get some fucking sleep.

Do you care?

Are you there?

You said that you'd be chill

You promised you'd stay in.

But I'm waiting on you still

Please tell me where you've been

And let me follow

Feel so hollow

Like those pills you always swallow

I'm so tired

Yet feel so wired

You better fucking grovel on your knees

Please!

When did we become this?

I miss...

I miss us.

*Caller cannot be reached. Mailbox is full.