Anger... Rage... Such Inadequate Words

I cast my rage upon this page,
I'm seething,
Insane with the darkest of pain,
The blackness like a cloak of hate, My exterior is cold stone,
Iron,
Beneath, my anger, like lava,
Burns.
I want to destroy so meticulously, Annihilate with calculating abandonment.
I don't want to fight,
I want to War .
I'm the merciless warrior
to your putrid whore.
I am lucid insanity,
The tidal wave before the crash,
I am smiling evil,
A white heart tainted with tendrils of black.
I am vengeance yet unleashed,
An aspiration to your decease,
I am the Nothing come alive,
The swirling pool of blight to dive.
I am not so much the blackened rose,
I am the Thorn.

I want only to make you bleed.

Bleed For Me.

Sleep

Another Sleepless night...

Am I doomed to repeat this mental existence...
moonlight illuminating my naked life,
my churning mind bubbling forth my fears and stresses behind my wasted eyes?

Will these cerebral bombardments ever stop,
or,
at least,
diminish in frequency?

Oh, to be able to sleep soundly,
quietly,
perhaps even dreamlessly...
Oh what a rest that would be!

To be alone in my head,
or rather,
to be nothing...
to think nothing...
to Feel nothing...
That would be to sleep.

For me, that would be the peace I need.
In this world, that's the least amount of peace I'd need...
And I could live with that....
well, survive anyway...

Ahh, just to Sleep...
perhaps, Not to dream...

Fake Happy

Broken Emeralds

Strangely beautiful. .. Destruction...broken...
Glittering emerald jewels in the sunlight...
Yet its center remains somewhat whole, intact,
it's pieces gradually radiating out from itself,
Satellites around its shattered core,
A vessel eternally empty.
It can hold nothing within it but its  memories of better times,
It can only lay and wait to continue to scatter in the void...and sparkle on its  way. ~Níca☆

Written by tongue. ..

(I didn't write this but I absolutely love the imagery...)

Enjoy...

Siren...

Siren...

Odd that the same word can warn you of danger...

Or lead you blissfully to your destruction...

Mistress of Metaphor

Emotions are a tidal wave,
Held at bay by a dam so numb.
Walls unbreachable,
That is,
Until,
The little death,
A hammer pounding with wrenching screams,
A break is wrought.
An ocean of tears crashes forth,
Pressure released.
A hand dipped in a soul iced over,
Swirling its seething depths below nerveless control.
Oh, agony of release,
A pressure tempered,
Fathoms delved and sifted towards the heart's shores.
Touching one's soul like a finger dipped in the oily recesses.
Ecstasy releases pain,
Begets feeling,
A burn ever raging.
When the screaming dies,
The quivers end their rippling,
The wall is sealing,
Patched over by responsibility and strength of will,
Soul's bondage is once again in play .