Words From the Other Side. Rachel Winter

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      Rot

      I feel worse as the days go by

      Always a struggle to understand why...

      Because in the back of my mind

      I think to myself that my past is behind

      But I'm no fool as you can see

      And I know the hand that life has dealt me.

      No surprises awaiting me

      I see through people too easily

      Their passing thought across their face

      The way they move as if to brace

      From the evil words they seem to think

      Will stumble out like poisoned ink

      From the pale mouth of their own fears

      Sickening words to fill those ears.

      And though it seems I know it all,

      It never fails. I'll always fall.

      Because they leave without a doubt

      Cut me off and shut me out.

      I know I'll never trust a soul

      Not once before they place me in my six-foot hole.

      But still I find it in passing thought,

      Washed with guilt that leaves me distraught

      Knowing that this life will leave me all alone

      Until my body turns to stone.

      Untitled

      Some people like cigars

      Others want cigarettes.

      I just happen to be

      A cigarette

      In the body of

      A cigar.

      Untitled II

      Light

      To the lips

      Smoke in,

      Smoke out.

      A deep breath.

      A dying wish for the lightness

      Of a cigarette.

      Bones

      I beg of you,

      Demon in my head,

      With all of your power,

      With your greatest might,

      Gift me what I wish for most.

      I'll give you anything,

      Anything you wish,

      In exchange for it.

      For my wildest dream,

      An unfading desire,

      I grovel in your glory,

      Praising your beauty,

      Embracing your strength.

      Vesting all I am in your service,

      Pushing myself to my grandest limits,

      All for you and for my dream,

      For everything I've wanted

      Since I was fourteen.

      I'm on my knees for you,

      Begging you,

      Please,

      I need this.

      I am nothing without you,

      I hate how I need you.

      How I chase after you.

      How I grovel in your presence.

      But I am yours, wholly and truly.

      So please,

      Make me the skin and bones I need to be.

      Paranoid Plans

      "A paranoid man makes paranoid plans."

      The first time I heard the phrase,

      I thought of tinfoil hats

      And homemade alarms rigged to notify me of intruders.

      I thought of taping papers over cameras,

      Disconnecting phone lines,

      And only using payphones to make phone calls.

      I thought of stuffing towels under doors,

      Pinning blankets in front of windows,

      And crossing out the eyes of photographs so they couldn't watch me.

      When I thought of paranoid plans,

      I never imagined checking over my shoulder four times every five minutes,

      Or walking faster in public so they can't read my mind.

      I never imagined setting my apps to French so the FBI and my family can't get into them,

      Changing my passwords biweekly for my privacy,

      Or being virtually unable to open up to anyone.

      I never imagined laying in bed questioning if I have any friends,

      Wondering if everyone I know is conspiring against me,

      Or figuring out who will screw me over next.

      I never imagined becoming someone who holds grudges,

      Being someone who gets angry at even the thought of being slighted,

      Or turning into the person who lies so that no one can sell my secrets.

      I never imagined СКАЧАТЬ