Accepting

Her Perspective

I found a girl, and saw her perspective
Silent, yet surprisingly reflective
They claimed she was away, entirely defective

But I knew otherwise just from the look in her eyes
I saw through the silent, and closed off disguise


And from there, I saw the immediate connection
Completely dissected, but still searches for true affection

 

Her warm, yet crooked emotion
A calmed, yet broken devotion

 

Silent, but struggling for her sound
and yet, still not a face found

 

Her skin torn, gone and rotten.
Her mouth stolen, words lost, ignored and forgotten.

 

She was exposed to all of the morbid things
Corrupted lies, and uneven broken wings

 

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew

 

And she left sudden, without a word,
Her existence she seen was too blurred

 

Before I could realize, she was gone and done
Did you ever wonder what life can become?

 

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew..

Slow to Come 2010

Folder: 
Wulfman Adventures

My days are different
I try to understand
All this goodness
I worked for it
It is mine
Then why am I
so slow to rejoice?

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The Mirror 2010

Folder: 
Wulfman Adventures

One: Freak
The man in the shiny window laughs at my tears.
Now I am the one doing the laughing.

Two: The Glare
His lake like eyes trying their best to break me.
My smile of sanity gives him a spin like a butterfly caught in a tornado.

Three: Sharing
Together like some demented conjoined twins, we cannot live without one or the other.
Shame.

Four: Shard Dancing
What a pop I gave the man on his reflective jaw. Now we are a cutting jigsaw puzzle, help us please?

Five: A Dream
I had a dream but now it is shattering into glistening nightmares.

Six: Blood Hand Duke
Our fists match each given blow to our twisted snarls of anger ‘til one bloody self remains.

Seven: Mine
I am my sickness, the hatred for my reflective twin.
Like cat and dog, back and forth ‘til I lay waste to shiny glass and flesh.
The split blood is due to pay for the change.

Eight: Clueless
Our death at my hands, ripping my twin from me as Dr. Crude spins another vinyl for the sanity of my cottage-cheese brains.

Nine: Unknown
Why am I insane?
Why am I high with nothing?
But the soothing sound of breakage…

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