01.16.04

Six years of age,
Recollection clear.
She wanted the drink...
She was ruining herself.

Unpaid debts,
Unpaid bills.
Barely a meal a day...
She was crying every night.

She'd beat me for no reason,
Hug me when I bled.
Wanted to love her.
But afraid of her.

Screamed at me
But called someone else's name.
Who is he?
My father?

Twelve years of age
And running through the streets.
Gun in one hand
And money on the other.

Sirens follow...
People screaming.
Hidden behind trash cans,
Waiting for coast clear.

Home now.
She's drinking again.
Handed her the money...
She kisses my cheek.

"I love you, son."
"I love you, Mom."
She looks away and drinks.
I am forgotten that instant.

Wanted to love her
But hated her.
Had no choice.
I needed her.

Eighteen years of age
Weed and heroine.
Done now.
Home again.

She sees me.
Screams at me.
Hurts me.
I know why.

The drink is all she wants...
Shoved it in her hand.
Shuts up and a kiss.
"I love you, son."

She looks away.
Drinks again.
I am forgotten
In that same instant.

So distant...
So far away...
When will she hold me
Without blood on my lips?

Never loved,
Cared for, or thought of.
Neglected child.
Abused...

The bastard son.
Wasted life.
Drunkard mother.
No father.

Who to blame?
Father or mother?
Or the bastard son?
The forgotten one...

01.16.04

I was no whore.
I was no bitch.
Never roamed the streets.
Never liked the thrill.

I was shy, quiet.
I was innocent, young.
Poor, unfortunate.
Illiterate, uneducated.

Met him at the grocery,
Wooed me since that day.
Head over heels...
I loved him so.

He was not poor,
But educated...
He could bring me out of my hell,
And make me whole.

Brought me to a motel;
I knew what was next.
Tried to stop him,
But passion conquered reason.

One night of passion,
There sprang the life.
Few weeks later,
Told him I had his child.

Promised that he'd marry me.
Tears of joy
Filled my eyes.
It was a dream come true.

Days and weeks passed,
But he never returned.
Then this woman came.
Said she was his wife.

Called me a bitch, a whore...
Told me to leave him alone,
Said he loved her
More that he did me.

Called her a liar,
But I knew it was the truth.
I have his bastard son.
I have it inside of me.

Slammed the door in her face.
Don't ever come back.
Leave me alone.
Go away.

This seed inside of me,
This is his bastard son...
Said he'd marry me,
But now he's gone.

Who to blame?
The father,
My lover?
Or this innocent little whore?

Neglected love.
Forbidden love.
Broken promises.
Painful consequences.

01.08.04

Knife from the counter left its place...
And my heart slows its pace...
What would it feel like to die?
What would it feel to look Death in the eye?
How would it be to take the knife,
Then cut myself, take my life?
How would it be to feel the pain
And cry out like I've gone insane?
How would it be to feel the adrenaline rush?
How would it feel to see my blood red and lush?
How would it feel to take my last gulp of air,
All alone, without anyone there?
How would it feel as life drains away,
Aware that I would not live another day?
Would the happy moments flash before me,
Provoke my conscience that I acted impetuously?
Or would the lonely times dominate my mind
And tell me I did good to leave the world behind?
Or maybe I'd see my life as a whole
And then regret tearfully because no one can console...
How would it feel, I wonder...
How would it feel to be six feet under?
Would they cry for me, would they regret;
Because they loved me and that they'd never forget?
Maybe my conscience shall provoke me some other time...
Because I won't do this. I won't commit the crime.
I won't be impetuous, foolish, stupid;
I won't be all that; I won't be morbid.
Took a step away from that blade,
Decided to delay my dark escapade.

07.11.02

In the shadows there I'll be,
Secluded from the open.
Living life inconspicuously.
Continuously drowning into oblivion.
No one knows who I am.
No one will ever find out.
For in darkness I reside,
In eternal nothingness of doubt.
I dwell with the inferior
Unknown without a name.
Silent, in peace of perfect tranquil,
Unknown, deprived of fame.