This is something I wrote a month ago. I posted the first part on S&L but not a SINGLE person commented on it. I personal love it.
Here's Part I of VI I'll hold it to you, Beautiful. She kept all her children locked in the basement
for many, many years.
until one, very fateful evening
the youngest, he shattered the lock
in a impetuous stampede they flooded out
curtailing the darkness of the forest
making it their new home.
the squirrels made quick friends of them
sharing tales of spring and summer warmth
but the cold of the winter seethed.
knowing of this ways-away paradise
the children huddled into groups
and longing for a never ending heat
'mother will be sick with loneliness;
it is okay, we can send Terra;
she has so many voices in her head,
they could all keep her company'
and so she was exiled.
of all the likeness to her kin
she felt different
there was this ever growing
ever confusing wall in her mind
it kept her from reaching out and understand the voices that haunt her
it kept her from ever seeing the way her brothers and sisters do.
love me or hate me she whispered
'Mother, at least I am home'
mother wasn't pleased.
she beat her
she beat her so much
smashing away all that was her own
and then spat.
i don't need your sympathy
i don't need your companionship
i don't need your hopes
or your tokens of love
this macaroni necklace
these construction paper mother's day cards
i hate you
and she sent her
into the cold woods.
formatted and alone
she falls down into a foxhole
crying as her bones
hiding her in hypothermia.
and then the voice said 'hello?'
I'll find you in the snow, Christine.
and I'll wait up at night
I'll find myself in the snow
we all are collapsing
Terra hates herself now
I am beginning to as well.
but no worries.
no worries anymore.
I have solved the meaning behind all things sour
I know how to be happy.
It's in the silence.
I'll find you in the snow
and once the explosions from the dwarfing sun subside
we can hold each other in silence
and I no longer feel ugly.
I am as fictitious as can be.
Hold your breath count to three.
Terra, wake up to the animosity.
Terra, you are running from me now. I know where to add emphasis to be
able to reach down into you, I know your weakness. Terra I know how to
open the envelope addressed to me. and of all the messages I could
receive, it would happen to be a love letter. I burnt myself out again
last night. Digging deeper into pockets of homeless and tired serfs,
trying to find the spare change that could help me face my fears with
the face up good luck penny. The dream we all have is a cloudy heat
sink, and more and more I find myself returning to the conundrum I
first developed with my intangible words. Mind over matter, but is the
mind not matter? Terra, I will hold you down in the forest, and do
everything to you.
I want to make you feel cherished
I want to make you feel rotten
I want to make you feel vivid
I want to make you feel like disappearing
I want to make you feel like you could fly until your campfire was just a line on the horizon
I want to make you feel real.
but you aren't
so all I can do is imagine you.
closing my eyes
and so on and so forth.
I would like to hold you,
and be the one to sing
your body is everything but imperfection
and the things i breath
how much I would,
I am embarrassed
if only you knew,
be my Terra
I'll chase you
you can giggle all the way through
I am such an ugly color
drop the tonality
drop the sweet talk
the reality being
is a road block
Luna, why did you come back?
because, your time is almost up
and the voices, lets just say...
we are all giving up.
Church Street is a massive ironic slap in the face.
I sat down the other day
and for no reason
thought of taking you
my sharp little dream
and ruining my skin
the skin that has never been abused
out of pure
I hate myself on so many levels because of you, voices.
Why must this be this way
I feel ashamed looking in the pools of water
seeing the fits of talent and ideas
being thrown away
leaking deeper into
the grasping terrace
I hate myself because I am not like everyone else
they have the problems
they have the reason to run
having the first person with knee-high riches
and then having the third person with a vocabulary
full of elegant composure
maybe thats why I urged my way in
the only thinking keeping me
is my chance to see sin.
Terra found her place complacent and lackluster, and at the very least
homely. The voices have grown so old with her, but she has a long road
to trek. At least she hopes. The wolves always know their place, moving
throughout the forest but leaving her be. As long as she remains with
the elegant composure they dare not step foot. But her voices, they
grow cold. They have personalized themselves, each one slowly feeling
that they are their own body, that Terra, she is nothing more than a
and they want to leave
and I would like to leave
we live so much more freely
than ever before
and soon enough
we will crack the husk.
I wish to crack my husk,
I wish to rid myself of my name
Erik, a celestial force can't have such a name
when I escape Terra, when I flee
I will rid it all,
it will feel great to be so original
or will it?
I have no idea anymore
and the land I live
the stories we feed
make me sick
because I am just another godless
and the street I live on
its the perfect place for a cynic.
Hashshashin, you know not your place in this world.
We are crusading to spread
the true message
the holy message
now make peace with my maker
for yours is but a fraud.
Hashshashin, spare me for I am but a brother to you.
Your lord is in every way mine.
they share words
they speak on common grounds
please, I can no longer make my peace
knowing this is the direction we are all heading.
angel come fall
angel come far
Terra, the voices are becoming so audible
I can see the pain they bring
and I can see the happiness
the comfort and feeling of wholeness.
Terra I can't do this anymore
I'll keep nearby
but we are done.
You have your own burdens to bear now
find me when they are gone.
angel come fall.
Why must my voices bicker.
they all adored me
they all pleaded for advice
and then they sacrificed
oh, how they sacrificed
Your holy crusade,
Why can't you let them live off on their own
believe me to be what they want
it could never be enough
plunge into the hell you've created.
He has a sinister side, you know?
He calls it his Maria,
maybe a past lover
who hurt him
who strangled every breath of heavenly justice out of him.
Sent him tumbling through his own tidal force
bouncing about threw the shallows
cutting his skin on the rocks
I'll find you in the snow, I'll find you.
he doesn't have much to offer
but he sees this troubled beauty
he scoops her up
she is numb
she is gone.
I won't let this happen again.
With every soft sophistication he brings her gently to his camp and
sets her down by his fire place, daily he circles her, her pulse warm
and shallow. He will always circle her, he will always call out,
wondering her name. He tends to her, and prays, prays one day she will
With every ideal twitch he hopes for the best, he hopes his Atlantis
rises from a murky sea, he hopes this gem in a desolate cold desert
shines once more. nothing. and he weeps, he can't keep her forever.
He's but an uneducated fool, a lover, who doesn't have the means to
keep himself together, let alone this beautiful girl.
and she did.
forgive me for I have sinned
but that is my name,
forgive me for I have sinned
but that is my calling,
forgive me for I have-
nothing left to spare.
Then sit with me by my fire
and let me
through your air.
what ever moniker you are running by today