I injected you,
   and I swallowed you.
I drank you,
   and I snorted you.

Little bits of you
course through my viens.
My blood;
darling, my blood is the pigment
of your skin.

You forever exist in my body,
and my nervous system is hightened
solely by you.

My love, you maketh me.


(d.d.b)

Prolonged social exposure
exhausts me.
It sets my mind on fire,
but in all the wrong places.
I lose interest too quickly
for small talk,
and lack of intellectual conversation.
A little is fine, beleive me,
But I can't stress it enough,
prolonged social exposure
exhausts me.


(d.d.b)

It's been a few years,
since I picked up that blade
determined to slice the sadness
out of my viens.
Ridges and indentions
of scar tissue
litter my body.
Yet, even now,
when I get really down,
I still want to add to my collection.
I am starkly aware
that it's not right,
not at all; but,
nothing else works quite as well.
Besides...
perhaps it's a punishment, too.
One that I deserve.


(d.d.b)

When I was young,
I believed in magic.
I always did "spells"
to keep away my faux enemy.
I called my enemy "The Darkness."
Imagine, this young girl,
only in elementary school,
running around and rambling about
"We must keep the darkness away."
"The darkness is going to get me."
My 'friends' turned me away,
finding me horribly odd.

A few years later,
magic hopes long forgotten,
it turned out I was right.
The Darkness came for me.
Who knew that little child
could have predicted
my futute mental disorders.


(d.d.b)

Rain is falling.

   Thunder is crashing.

        Lightening is striking.

That's a daily;

    How can it not be?

        This isn't just a storm.

Electricity and precipitation?

    Honey, they aren't from the sky;

         Not tonight.

Tonight, you inquire?

   That's sad but simple, you see,

        The storm comes from the heart

         inside of me.



(d.d.b)

Old text messages are the devil
Because they show that one day
it was *"Let's go get coffee together."
And that day led to making out,
behind a shed neither of us owned.
They show that the next week,
you were on your way over
to my house.  
"On my way."
And that day...
oh, god, that day...
I trusted you.
I said no.
My trust was misplaced.
You violated me anyway.
They show that you kept in contact;
you texted me daily for a month after.
As if nothing happened.
As if my life hadn't been torn apart.
"I love you."
"You want to get coffee again?"


(d.d.b)

The memories are killing me.
They drown me,
as if I am tied down
with thousands of pounds
and have been thrown
into the ocean.
The memories haunt me.
Like a spider you see
out of the corner of your eye
but can't quite reach to ****.
The memories consume me.
They envelop my soul
with dark, thick smoke
and leave me struggling to live.

Take away the memories.
They are becoming me.


(d.d.b)

Will it ever makes sense?
      it doesn't make sense
Will I every be okay?
      I'm not okay
Will this pain ever end?
      God, there's so much pain...




(d.d.b)