There once was a man named Bobby
Who was bored and needed a hobby
He sat there and pondered
He thought, and he wondered
But nothing came to him all day.

So Bobby decided to write
But none of his words came out right.
His thoughts tossed and turned
And his first drafts, he burned
Because he felt his work was trite.

Suddenly, the room filled with flames
And he knew his first drafts were to blame
He tried to escape
But he was too late
And soon he screamed with pain.

He died later on that day
And his story goes on to say
Take pride in your work
And all of its quirks
Or soon you will leave the same way.

You gave me your doubts,
your fears, troubles and all,
you came to me broken,
I came to break your fall.

I will not be your knight,
whose armor shines in the sun,
nor shall I be your hero,
not even "The One".

For I am your friend,
and that's all I'll ever be,
because that's what you really,
really need from me.

You don't need my life,
just my love and compassion,
please don't read too deep,
into every word and little action.

I am already signed and my heart already claimed,
please do not hang your head down,
down, ashamed.

You've done nothing to deserve that,
you're lost and confused I know,
so you came to a friend,
a friend you trusted you could go.

And I'm humbled and honored, that you would call me as such,
but I'm afraid that even I,
even I can only offer so much.

I'll give you food, water, medicine and supplies,
if you in trade give me your story, truth instead of lies.
For the house of cards you frailly built upon,
will blow away at the slightest breath, and then it shall be....
gone.

But I will point you to the Rock, to where you may solidly stand,
this shall be your safe ground, as it is Holy Land.
One day you'll realize, the beauty of your soul
is worth saving and the life you're living, actually has a goal.

You gave me reasons, why not to at all,
here I'm giving you the same, as to why you should live,
because my heart and friendship goes out to you, that much I can give.

One day, you'll thank me, and even your Maker,
for the bread was made of ingredients like you and me,
but Trust in God our Father, for He is like a Baker.

He'll kneed you, fold you, break you and mold you,
He'll do what it takes, to make you anew.

You are His Child, even if you don't know it now,
you'll find out soon enough, some way, some how.

Until then, and even after, I'll pray for you always,
and I shall always be your friend, for the rest of my days.

You... give me reason, to live and fight on,
now let me give you another chance, to see another beautiful dawn.

I hope
    one day
        you'll see me
              and think
"why did i let her go."

Oh no,
it was not of the ordinary kind.
It was not the ****** ****,
to leave a puddle in the bath.
It was not reckless, it was not thoughtless.
It was a **** of no other kind.

Oh when I think of it
and when I hear the crows
hovering above in the sound of the bell.
That rusty bell, when the sun is gone,
together with the crows,
on time they all sing,
precise as the ****.

Oh no,
it wasn't a bullet, shot in shake and fear,
it wasn't a sloppy slip, one fast and quick.
It was a **** foresighted and long before known.
It was silent, yet loud and felt.
A type of ******,
when a queen murders a king.

A type of killer she was,
who put poison in the chunk of bread
in the sight of the murdered.
That food was sweeter than life,
when eaten from the fingertips of the sensational murderess.
It was swallowed with joy,
yet known it is poison.

Simple, when looked from far,
venom she whispered and sipped,
from the killer red dry lips,
that ate away the skin.
Not a spot when on the spotlight,
she is a predator of no other kind;
The killer, claws the prey,
with the most gentle of touch.

It was not a moment, a blink of some day,
it was over and over,
every gasp, every second of every day.
It was not a knife to the back,
it was clean and open - wound to the front;
Facing her gaze,
oh, she pierced it right in the heart.
It was the sharpest of blades, over and over again...
As they say,
there are few swords that cut so deep,
as the blade of unrequited love.

As I walk now in the sun's light of noon
and remember the days,
I still feel the warmth of air passing in my open heart;
I still taste the blood of my already fallen skin.
I writhe a little...
Then I softly grin,
from cheekbone to chin -
I think of the time when you murdered me.

The kisses from your lips
For they are the wine
That have left me intoxicated

Screaming "I don't care"
At the top of my lungs
No feelings or emotions
Easily roll off my tongue

Gonna leave me?
Left alone to soak in my misery?
That's my definition of sanity

Maybe it has something to do with
Being knocked unconscious at fourteen
Taken advantage of
But I only remember in my dreams
Then I wake up with no memory

I don't understand how I'm startled so easily
A simple figure of a man,
All of a sudden, standing anywhere near me
I jump, scream and can barely breathe
Even when I know it's the man that loves me
And would never intentionally hurt me

Panic flows continuously through me
Excessive amounts of anxiety
It's not really a new thing
Not really something anyone can explain
You could guess, make assumptions or try to diagnos me
But I don't think anyone could truly understand the pain

*I'm not so sure if no emotions is really a good thing...

And she swore,
*He was the darkest heaven she had ever seen.