Her suffering was her currency as she would trade in sympathies among a band of devils driven wild by their needs to be possessed and to possess in a world seldom fair being built in complications simple heads never seem to ever understand and.
She was Magnificent.
They way she tore me down. Only one other thing had ever hurt me more.
Taylor Swift IS Chris Conn.
Coming soon to a theatre near you.
Parental discretion is strongly advised.
H i g h e r
Deep fire
Long night
Keep sight
Search soul
Swell goal
I find...
Goldmine
I first...
Quench thirst
Sweetheart
My heart
Her "Yes"
Killed stress
Bright eyes
Great prize
My will
Moved hill
High beam
Vast dream
A Lineage of Vultures from Hell
I crossed an ocean to unearth my roots,
To find the branches of my hidden tree.
Thirty-eight strangers wearing friendly suits,
Thirty-eight wolves who smiled to welcome me.
In that old village, secrets wore a mask,
Their cunning eyes disguised as open doors.
But stripping me was their intended task,
To leave me bleeding on their wooden floors.
"You're filthy rich," they hissed into the cold,
While robbing every treasure that I kept.
They traded blood for silver and for gold,
And showed no mercy.
Writers block
I’m Writing the attributes of my characters for a book
It’s like talking to the therapist
Character one M- authoritative, everybody scared of him. Looks possessed.
Character two S- Queen bee who sat on her seat, only got up to fight,
Stirring her pot her big mouth, seeing things.
Character three K- Fist fighter with a mission.
It’s about a story on how they lived in modern society. All knowledge was there. They just had to look for it. A middle-class family. Just sitting there in the dark, curtains shut. I don’t know how to explain it. Why would anyone back them I don’t know. Maybe I think of a horror story as refence, Amityville back in the eighties, maybe. I think they all possessed. Trying to imagine a conclusion for it, its hard to think.
Now can’t find how to put them in a setting. Any ideas?
Evil spirits rotting thoughts
Evil spirit heard a happy thought going by
Trapped in the house where it departed
It twisted the joy into a jagged blade,
Dipped in shadows and pride.
It drove that spike through the victim’s ear,
And it nested deep in the brain.
The man thought he was losing his mind,
As he listened to the whispers of pain.
But it wasn't madness or a wandering wind,
That made his skin turn cold.
It was the spirit, feeding on his light,
Until the story was told.
Once I had a little Country
Used to keep her on the lead
One fine day she did break free
What a naughty kind of breed
I was calling “Country, Country!”
But she went away too fast
Craving freedom desperately
She went loose alone at last
But came back after a while
Then I saw it’s not my home
Where I live, and she’s not mine
Where on earth do I belong?
You belong to me, she barked
I’m the master, so don’t worry
It was topsy turvey marked
Now its different kind of story
To belong to can’t be equaled
To possession that you own
You’re just one of those I peopled
You’re the servant at my home
Thanks but no thanks, little doggy
Help yourself, I’m not your kind
You can make my life bit foggy
But I live inside my mind.
We have many reasons why we shouldn't be possessive
The growth of our relationship has been more than progressive
What is it that we fear when it comes to each other
What is causing us to hold on so tight and to smother
Becoming each other's prized possession was automatic
Through our common similarities we're each other's fanatic
Yes, we realize that what we have is rare
The work we put into our friendship, other's wouldn't dare
Most prized possessions are not just taken at face value
This is how you see me and it's definitely the way I see you
Seeing we both feel this way, there's no need feel put out
When others spend time with us and learn what we're about
You will always be my trophy and I'll be your gold
No one can cause what we have built to grow cold
We've became so close to each other, until there's an ownership
Only you and I understand the way we're running this friendship
We hold each other very dear and close to our hearts
We only allow distance to be the reason we're apart
We're each other's prized possession that can't be replaced
It's my lifetime goal to cherish you forever not just today
Scales interspersed my skin, enrobed my flesh, hardened it, within a mesh. I come close to kiss you, but it binds me still, and you walk away, and I hobble up the hill. One foot follows the other=feigns, I must catch you before it wanes. The fog between us has grown so dense, and my body with it all so tense, my steps slow down yours speeding=out of my sight, now. What immense fright...
I falter on my knees, near to naught, nigh to my knife, and I cut me, and the blood runs so rife, a gate opens but I don't recall I have its keys, but it doesn't end my life.
I clenched my teeth and pulled each foul flake from underneath, and freed myself but now I seek=her until she's meek, until she's weak...
I walk with my chest up, then I see her clear, I walk toward her, and her voice I hear, “I've come for you my precious dear”, I said as I smiled from ear to ear. I held her mere but she flailed from fear. Then she froze in fear. And I sank my fangs in her,
as I dropped a single tear.
In the flowing darkness of the delirious night
I saw once my being sink with my essence escaping,
get dissipated in dissociative domain of ethereal ether
where I heard the sound of the distant bells toll faintly,
masking the music of my life’s violin fading away
in stalled time’s deadly depth of smothering silence.
That night I felt my frail body paranormally possessed,
the pounding heart pushing blood to the brain in a rush.
While with the swinging sense I floated in the thin air,
the vaporized eyes strained in vain to clear the vision
as they looked vacantly held in the helm of hallucination,
shaping the engulfing ominous silhouette of collapsed space.
That’s when I saw a pale figure appear as if frozen
in the mist outside the window open on the seraphic sky.
As the gloomy clouds cleared I saw in the moonshine
the smiling face of my mother who I’d lost decades ago.
She came to take me with her, but before I could say ‘wait’
I crossed the boundary between self and spell to recoup me.
the possession of a vessel
a cradle call
a steady fall
a empty cost
and all's lost
a candle care
a random share
a fullness last
and all's cast
a constant claim
a longing name
a least of more
and all's before
a costly care
a vessel rare
an emptied full
and all's pull
a cradle claim
a constant name
a candle fair
a vessel care
cradle candle
constant cost
care and cast
and all is last
alex e nelson
ohio
I have a body till I’m to survive
to feel myself as a living person
to continue journey, so long I live.
When to leave the body ! Me in tension.
Depending on body, my life to lead :
At any time I can meet my demise.
Inevitable, no more to proceed.
I don’t possess my body, great surprise.
Inherited body from my parents.
On the body I can have no control.
Yet bound to care for Body, no complaints.
Only wishful thinking : May I own Soul?
To use in life, body given to live.
Bare fact : From body I’m destined to leave.
It started as a whisper, faint,
A voice that slithered through my brain.
Not my own, but just as clear,
A presence lurking ever near.
At first, a shudder down my spine,
A fleeting thought that wasn’t mine.
Hands that moved without command,
Footsteps shifting in the sand.
My mouth would form a stranger’s sound,
Words escaping, unprofound.
My mirror’s face, though still my own,
Reflected something not alone.
I fought with will, with endless dread,
A war inside my weary head.
Yet every day, it took its claim,
My mind was dark, my soul felt maimed.
And then one night, no battle came,
No voice, no force, no phantom’s name.
Just silence where the echo stayed—
Was I the one who’d been betrayed?
Had I fought, or had I fled?
Was I me… or was I dead?
Her smile, the softly ringing bells of her laughter, the newly discovered talismans against encroaching death.
The delicate light, faint but growing, that first lit and warmed her own glowing freckled skin, danced in her eyes like the sea in the summer, bounced off the glints of auburn in her hair until she seemed lighted from the inside like a lantern...and as a lantern would, drove the darkest, heaviest shadows from the corners around her.
Oh...this...SHE...is what is meant by the divinity...in feminity. I see. Her face, these eyes, the heavy slope of these breasts. They are the design that completed creation and made it right. They are beauty and joy and life. The curve of this belly, the unafraid openness of this soul that invites and offers rest. It is comfort and it is peace and it is sacred. At once she is the warm home fire that draws me in and the precious marble statue, cool and pristine, blocked off, in my mind, behind proverbial velvet ropes, art, not for hands like mine to touch...
Oh, but I would die of exhaustion, making her smile, keeping her laughing...and humbly watching her gentle, holy light.
Everyone's things are possessive:
don't touch
don't talk
don't flirt
don't act badly
If you don't want something happen to you.
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