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Knifes Hurt You Know
they're murderers themselves..
calling numerous people to thier side..
some harmful and others...
well they're dead first,
the paranoya of this all screams into my makeup covered head..
the thoughts buzzing around as if mad bees escaped some science lab,
the knife chasing me in my dreams...
but whom is it that that clings on to the knife as they drive it across my back...
running and running,
not caring a bit as to were i go...
just knowing i'm going away...
away from that knife...
so it shall sit there calling my name...
until one day far away when i am gone and my children's children have little babies...
i still havn't found out whom it is that chases me...
taunts my every move...
questions fill me as i silently look around...
i see nothing but a black room..
it's contents include an old chair and a broken t.v...
the t.v. buzzing on a white and black channel...
the musty small of old socks and diseases knocks the chair down and moves swiftly towards me...
it chokes me...gagging my mouth with one of those nasty socks...
i cry out but it's like a tree falling with no one around to hear..
or care for that matter,
i reach into my pocket to find a lonely knife...
all rusted with even more smelly stuff...
with out even wondering how it got in my pocket i peirce the musty smell with it..
i am surprised to feel iquid fall over me like rain on a fire...
i feel someone big and powerful come in and get me as i slowly fade away...
i hear him ask me questions but i was already fading away..
i just closed my eyes and drifted away..
i flew over clouds and saw a rainbow far off..
i decided to go see it close up,
i went to it and tried to touch it..the abstractness not showing to my false taught eyes,
i touched my cheek and felt the bloody tears coming...
they fled off my cheeks as though i was poison..a burden..
an orphan with out parents..
pity fills the eyes of those whom lay thier eyes on me..
it takes me down lower as more red marks are created on my small body...
to take my time in life would make me think..
clouds above usually float down and into my head and fill me with wonderfull dreams of meeting him..
is this my fault?
i just want to stop and breathe..
sit there and cry into your strong arms..
but no i can't have that wish..
you took me down from the high shelf on your wall and gave me away..
perhaps to willingly and fast for me..
you damaged me dad..
you made me listen to tnose knifes..you put them there..
you took me down..
maybe it was you,dad,that held the knife with your whiskey breath breathing upon my little face..covered i was with that nasty smell..mascara ran down my face often in there..
that darn dream..
maybe i'll go into a forest and just scream all my emotional pain out..
maybe then a real smile will dart across my face..
my eyes may react to..
pride shall return and my stance will straighten,
strong i will..
yes my lips will never be blue..
not until i am called by the beautiful singing angels...
and i forget you..