Dyxtrius

**~English assignment~**

I am the anxious lover

I wonder is he awake, waiting for my touch

I hear the quiet shift of the mattress in the dark

I see the pale gleam of his skin

I want to awaken him with a kiss

I am the anxious lover

I pretend to sleep as I curl into his body

I feel his heart beating rapidly against my cheek

I touch his shoulder lightly with my mouth

I worry that he will sleep through my slow seduction

I cry out when he suddenly pulls me into his arms

I am the anxious lover

I understand that this might not be true love

I say in a rushed whisper, now, yes, like this

I dream bright colors while awake

I try to soothe his unsteady breathing

I hope he knows how I feel as he tenderly kisses me to sleep

I am the anxious lover

**~Fuck you Freud~**

Black Shadowed Cyclones Slithering Around The Ancient Tree

Standing Alone In A Vast Green Meadow

Glowering Over A Pure Crystaline Lake

Snakes Creeping Near The Red-muddy Banks

Dripping Red Streaks Into The Pristine Depths

Crying Wings Beat At The Clutching Branches

Is The Rape OF Nature Always This

MAGNIFICENT?

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Crawling through the trenches ot that artificial night

Choking on the fever leaving his eyes darkly bright

Burning on his self-made cross a ring of endless light

Fading into morning and melting out of sight.

"It was too much for me to bear, this life of spite and hypocracy.

Now I choose to leave this place. Do not pray for me."

~=Suicide=~

~**Virginity**~

a pure commodity all have to offer

hidden in the backeats of cars and behind the

closed doors of bedrooms clothed in disney wallpaper

precious sensuality waiting to be exploited

carnal blood waiting to be bled

swallowing the whole of innocence into a darkening purgatory sunset

falling into the trembling Sin of touch

grasping at disillusioned reasoning

sneaking out a window into a field of tall grasses

grasses hiding the lustful serpent waiting to pierce

into the sanctity of motherhood.

~**I am Sick of Life**~

I am sick of being judged based on how I dress.

I am sick of being depressed based on how I look.

I am sick of the rejection I suffer because I do not meet today's beauty standards.

I am sick of being told I am average based on my colouring and height.

I am sick of being told my make-up is too dark for my age.

I am sick of being told to remove jewelry because someone feels it is inappropriate.

I am sick of being told my favourite colour is black when it is

actually Orange.

I am sick of being told people don't judge on appearances when they do.

I am sick of the media saying people that wear black are mentally unstable.

I am sick of being told that those that are depressed are suicidal.

I am sick of being suicidal.

I am sick of being unwanted for whatever reason.

I am sick of being told that the reason is because I know

who I am, what I want, and that I'm dominating.

I am sick of submitting.

I am sick of people assuming I have no morals (for whatever

reason it is assumed) when, in fact, I do not lower myself to

today's standards of sexual activity, drug use, alcohol use, and

disobediance to my parents.

I am sick of everyone and everything-but there is no

way to get away from it all, despite the latest commercial stating otherwise.

I am sick of commercials. Life is not a commercial

and it is time to get back with the program.

~**Chanting**~

Many forgotten tunes I hear

Swirling through my shrinking head

Shadowed face drawing near