Diary of a psycho

January, 2

Yesterday was a bust but today is a new day. I roam around looking for the right woman to hold my black and cold heart. I hear the voices singing in the back of my head. I have the urge to impale everyone around me, to relief my stress. I wait and wait until, this beauty with silky black hair arrives and sit next to me. I turn to her direction to smell her sweet and delicious scent. I want to peck and hold every part of her body. She looks at me and smile, I took a picture with my mind to capture her beautiful and unique smile. She reminds me of the sun, she shines, she lights up the world and with out her everyone will rot and die. I hesitate to open my mouth and let the words flow into her ears and let the jet black moths that live and breath inside me escape.

"Hi" I whisper only for her delicate ears to hear.

"Hi" she lets out.

Instead of moths she holds beautiful butterflies that can sprout up into the still air and put me in a uncontrollable daze. I go on my phone and watch her elegance from the corner of my eye. She gets up so, so do I. I want to be the sponge and soak up all her scents, I want to grasp her in my long arms to call her mine.

"How's your day going?" I ask politely

"Long, haha she laughs.
Her laugh is a symphony vibrating through my body sending chills up my spine. She gets up and that symphony stops playing.

"Bye have a good day" she says.
1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10.
I count and count to control the madness that is happening in my brain. A raging war is occurring between my decisions and feelings but most of the time my feelings take over and that's when the voice comes in I count as a calming medicine, an aid to help me cope with myself and the way I think or feel. I count to 10 when I feel the voice is yelling at me screaming, spitting it's retched hot breath in my face. Seeping into my pores as I take in its evil plans, I hate that voice but I listen to it anyways. I follow her but I hide between the walls so it won't seem that I'm tracing her footsteps And watching every single delicate and soft footstep she leaves behind her as her hair clings to her back and sticks to her neck because of the moist skin she owns. Her imperfections are her beautiful and perfect flaws. I don't know of her name but I make one up to help me sleep at night,Cira {Kyra} meaning sun. I follow her into the park-in-lot, without her noticing. I go around the bend and then trailed along to see where she was going next. It looked like she was going through a cute, small neighborhood, she stopped at a cute black and White House and I parked 2 houses away to observe. She went in fiddled with a key and got in. Perfect...her house. I memorize the address and it echoed until it was engraved in my skull.
24 alsbury ln
24 alsbury ln
24 alsbury ln
24 alsbury ln
24 alsbury ln
24 alsbury ln