Collection of My Mini Works

Insanity

I feel like crying. Dying. Death caresses my insides like a mother should her son. 

Thoughts of suicide, ending life as I know it, races around in my head like the agonizing tic-toc of a clock.
Driving me mad, insane.
Putting words in my mouth as the voices start to scream.

That sickening noise... Like bills drowning me with mockery --Laughing at my wool sweater, 'round clock, tic-toc--

This is the only gift I could afford.
Grandma knitted it with her cold-hearted spit & hate against humanity,
but it’s the only thing that keeps me warm.

Mama and papa are out drinking again.
My sister ran away with her 2nd baby daddy who just broke out of prison.
My brother took my last pay check to spend on his high of the week.
My stomach growls, and the nights are growing colder... But my lips are sown shut from regret & anger.
If I were to speak the words my tongue burns to shout,
I would be cut up, and spit up, by Mother Nature herself.

Ha, Mother Nature.
The creature responsible for every ounce of damnation this world offers me.

I don't appreciate what I get because every thought filled gift is from me.
I don't believe in trust or love because the only one who could ever love me is me.
I'd constantly throw myself beneath the feet of broken promises.
Clawing for the very essence of its blinding masked beauty.

I tried maturity, but it nibbled at the tips of my ears.
I tried the street life, stealing your value instead of your heart;
but it dyed my fingertips with bloodstains and green ink.
I tried to be cold...
I tried the heartless kisses as we stand on the street corner, covered in frost
–as it creeps up and down my quivering skin...
But I didn't last. I couldn't bear the weight of one so bright breaking because of my dark.

My selfish inquiries are all that describe me.
No, that doesn't make me a crook; but it exposes my crooked smile.

Crooked smile, crooked teeth, crooked bones and cracking crowns.
Gold crowns, with gems. Jewels and gems of colors that shape beauty and Greed.
Greed like my carnivorous soul.

No, I'm perfectly sane... But sanity only goes as far as the agonizing tic-toc of a clock.

Tic-toc. It doesn't stop. 
Tic-toc. It never stops. 
Tic-toc. Why is it the anxiety of my fears? 
Tic-toc...

Funny. The minute hand never seems to move...
Tic-toc…

The minute hand never moves….
Tic-toc.