The-writing-pony

"Don't turn around." "Why" "...well, you know your fear of spiders?" "OH GOD, GET IT OFF!" "No, it's not on you! It's beh-oh. Now it's on you." "GET IT OFF!" "Uh, right! Here stand still for one second..." "IT'S ON MY NECK! OH SWEET JESUS, HELP! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!" "Calm down! You're not going to die, it's a harmless jumping spi-" "IT CAN JUMP? HELP!" "Zane, get a grip. It jumped off of you." "...it did?" "Uh-huh." "..." "..." "...IT COULD BE ANYWHERE, OH GOD!" "Here we go again."

Alone at the bar, I drown in more alcohol in hopes of relieving the pain possibly forever. You take a seat beside me and ask if I am alright. One glance at you and already I know you aren't to be trusted so I simply nod and take another swig. You say you don't believe me but I simply shrug and keep my lips cradled around the rim of the glass. You take this as a sign and walk away. However, you surprise me by returning moments later with a full glass in your extended hand and a piece of paper taped to the handle. I ask you what it is but you smile and walk off. I drink the glass without a second thought but then stare lo

With a single word I can save your life or take it away so why do you still refuse to hear my pleas? Does death intrigue you or is it that you are nothing but a hollow shell unable to hear nor touch nor smell the beauties I offer nor the sorrows that consume my days and nights? I am drowning in the darkness that you created through the years of memories forgotten by the alcohol so why won't you help me? Do you not love me anymore? Must I take it upon myself to perform the task father could not go through with? I love you, mommy. Don't you love me too?

"Hey baby.

Nothing can replace that feeling...that serenity that you feel as their small hands fit in the palm of yours. How they use their body to cling to you as if you are the one thing they trust to keep them from falling. How their terror can subside simply by their face buried against your chest. That warm blanket of comfort that only you can provide for them. But...what would happen when those eyes never again greet you good morning with that innocent smile? When their cold skin can never feel the warmth of your love? What if you couldn't hold onto them, and they fell? Would they blame you as they age in heaven? Would your heart be able to han

How does it feel? Your mistakes your lies your faults all written plainly in a shade of sinful red against the wall that once supported you. She wrote this, and it's all about you every insult every hateful letter that stains the wall that once loved you. She was that wall, that one place you could go to lean on when all seemed lost but now it's blended in with your environment and you feel so very trapped and alone so very alone. Tell me, how does it feel?

I need to see it the fire in your eyes so that I can believe this was all lies but you continue to refuse while your words abuse the love I thought was once true Well, be that way if you desire for I know how to obtain the fire just show me your heart and you will see that our love is the only key Look now, the answer is clear shall I whisper it in your ear? A carving is on your heart, strong and true and it says the words, I love you.