Don't love me.

Don't give me your heart.

Don't make me the pulse of life.

Don't twist around me and make me feel.

Don't slide slipping into my sex appeal.

Don't stab and twist the knife.

Don't tear me apart.

Don't love me.

Don't need me.

Don't swallow me whole.

Don't shadow me day and night.

Don't make me the one reason you breathe.

Don't tell me if I die you can finally grieve.

Don't lay me down in twilight.

Don't bleed me your soul.

Don't need me.

Please

      Just 

            Don't

Looking down at shattered glass

    All the pieces of the past

So much I have left to say

    So much pain gets in the way

Try so hard not to be numb

    I feel pain I won't succumb

What tools mend a heart and mind?

    Can you leave it all behind?

We are broken, every one

    Not so proud of things we've done

You'll keep fighting if you care

    Know we are all in repair.

I wish I could explain

    why I write words that cause you pain

Mix make believe with what is real

    Throw in feelings I no longer feel

Exaggeration is nothing new

    Love for someone who isn't you

When I write straight from my heart

    How do you tell those ones apart?

Sometimes my pen is my escape

    Things I write will make you gape

All my thoughts inside my head

    Emotions felt that are long dead

I may expose my soul to bare

    It's something that most poets share

We spill our words that turn to art

    On open page our mind and heart

The things I scribble are not always

    Set in stone for all our days

I wish I could give you a peek

    To see what writing does for me

If you dare read what's in my mind

    You have to see between the lines

A forgotten fact you seem to fail

    How good I am spinning a tale

But tale it is or fantasy

    Not all I write is about me

And some things written about you

    Were back then, but now aren't true

So use caution in what you choose

    to read of mine, and you won't lose.

I put you where you are.

I lifted the small box,

Into the fresh ground.

I clawed at you,

Yelling "good-bye!",

From across the room,

As I was dragged away.

I was the girl,

In the black dress.

I sobbed,

Until my head ached.

Sometimes I still do.

I spoke of you.

With no lies,

Held between my teeth.

I placed a solitary flower,

On top of your silk lined bed.

For nights after,

I smothered my screams,

In a pillow.

I was the girl,

In the black dress.

Every Tuesday was cursed,

And still is.

I phased in and out,

Of internal awareness,

For months.

I still cry on Tuesday's.

I still see,

The many faces.

They were confused.

Only a young man..

I'd hear them whisper.

I was the girl,

In the black dress.

I was not confused.

I was electrocuted.

Pulses of grief and rage,

Shot through my extremities.

I yelled.

I cursed on a priest.

I ran my hands,

Up and down your chest,

Feeling the autopsy incisions.

Today is the first of November.

Today is Tuesday.

I'm still the girl,

In the black dress.

I seek refuge from a judgmental world.

I hide myself from the pretty ones, 

the ones who lack even the most humane flaws.

I fear the stares of disgust I may get, but never notice.

I choose not to pay attention, and place a cloak of invisibility 

upon myself, so dark that all can see.

I am never completely alone, for I can feel the stares that aren't even there 

and can here the thoughts that aren't even made.

I'm insecure about myself, but no one else sees these flaws

because I'm completely perfect.

I like you.

A lot.

We've been through the heartbreak,

pain, and sorrow, but yet here we

are. Still holding on. It seemed like

we were through for a while, but

you showed me a different side of you, a side I never saw before.

I had to stay. You came back to me and said "Be mine." How could

I decline? I couldn't. I didn't. 

We belong together, till the end of

time...

It never stops

Always winning...

You never know when

it will come after you

through the darkness

from the cold...

It is here...

Come here, come here

And we will speak quietly

Of all the broken things

That span the space

Between you and I.

Tattered dreams and secrets

Our hearts swore they would

Forever keep, unto the day

We die.

Oh come here, come here,

And spend an hour

By my world-weary side.

We will speak of love.

We will speak of life.

But tell me dearest,

Oh promise dearest friend,

That you will tell me

No lies.

Come here, come here,

Visit me with your tears.

Lay down ever so softly

On my shoulder,

Against my breast.

I shall be your strength today,

And tomorrow dearest,

Promise, dearest, you will

Be mine.

Will the day ever come

    When every song has been sung?

It seems so absurd

    That we might run out of words.

What about our ideas?

    Will those run out too?

I don't think we could be us

    Without anything new.

Do you think the last book

    Will eventually be written?

The last hand will be shook

    The final audience smitten?

Will there come a time

    While we're still alive

When we've rhymed every rhyme?

    I don't think we'd survive.

What will we all do

    When everything's been found out?

We can learn nothing new

    What life is about.

I don't think we could thrive

    If every problem were solved

Will we feel alive

    When we've completely evolved?

I don't think I'd take well

    To an invisible ceiling

It would feel just like hell

    Slowly losing our feeling.

We need to succeed

    To face the unknown

We need to overcome greed

    And to reap

          what 

                we've 

                      sown.

Darrian Lynx