Invincibility Forfeited

Death...death...like a cold, distant fog it looms over these beings these frail human beings, myself included attacking their defenseless, quarrelsome - filled minds like ravenous carnivores sprinting upon their prey I've counted three, thrice has death sent for the reaper to bombard the people I depend for my source of sanity It's a process by association those very people bring forth their sickening issues and ideals in written form to my presence on my brightest days while I'm in the mix of my own reconstruction period In the mix of my own reconstruction period I'd wondered what really killed Shakespeare and Poe Shakespeare always wrote about the roses of love and deaths in a fatal tragedy but did his rose turn into a thorn piercing his side completely or did it turn into a sword and behead him Poe's demise, I've already reached my conclusion It was the blame, the hurt, the failure he embraced along with his compelled and justified insanity at the loss of his beloved Annabelle Lee The pain is relate-able although no one can really understand the symptoms of his tragedy has become the disease of my emotional one ...If only I didn't see the look in her eyes... Belle (sigh) she's come around again with her usual incentives her unknown determination to spin her web of uncertainty these encounters leave feeling less like a man and more like a fly in the mouth of a black widow Belle, she finds high spirits in allowing me to believe her stories leaving in a dead web of my pathetic funeral to dream of a love between her and myself but when I believe her to be real she takes Poseidon's trident, piercing my chest and laughs in my face, still impaling me deeper and deeper only to whisper later how much she loves me, so deceiving Why toy with me as if I'm the favorite of a 3 year old stop playing with food and just finish it already so I can avoid the look in her eyes her cold, evasive, alluring, icy blue, crystal eyes What is the reason for my swift returns to her She's lifeless to me and I wear doubt like a shield but I still remain loyal like an undying servant who has forsaken freedom Every time I back away, she's willing to stay my resilience is forfeit for the taste of her lips the touch of her skin (sigh) I believed myself to be truly invincible for a change a hero in my own right but I crash back down from my thousand star flight back into the fact, love has clipped me for the hundredth time Here's the summary for my mess of December I suffered ambulance anxiety courtesy of Anastasia and now I'm a fly helplessly trapped in the contents of the web of Belle, the black widow