• she is my anchor to this world.
    she keeps me grounded.
    she is my only tie to humanity.
    without her, i would float up to heaven, or sink down to hell.
    she’s the only thing keeping me here.
    and i love her.

  • the man in the trench coat knelt
    over his wife’s blood-drenched form.
    she was limp, pale, and cold.
    he put his head to her chest as he felt the last beats of her heart dying out.
    she was his.
    but now
    she was gone.

  • punished are the withered fields that lie among us.
    punished are the dying animals that live among us.
    punished are the gnarled trees that give oxygen to us.
    punished are we.
    for we are the souls of hell.

  • they punished her.
    they threw her into the basement.
    hit her with broken bottles.
    watched as the shards cut into her porcelain skin.
    leaving rivers of crimson red to trail down her arms.
    her hair was covered in blood, too.
    she was beaten, broken and alone.

  • punishment.
    what a strange thing.
    i wonder who created punishment.
    i don’t like to be punished.
    no one does.
    i don’t believe in bad people.
    just confused, misunderstood people
    that make bad decisions.
    and bad choices.
    but maybe…
    it’s not their fault.
    like maybe it’s not my fault either.