The Guardians

Inadequate and completely alone,

Useless and thrown around

Like a rag doll soaked in blood...

Wings broken, bones broken

And cuts too deep to be healed.

Blood pooling, boiling, burning

And Hell's heat never seemed so real

For in the darkest moments,

It's all there is left.

No sunrise and no sunset,

Brimstone and fire...

No pleasant dreams, no escape

They're skinless monsters.

The sounds of breaking wings,

The sound of crushing skulls,

The smell of pooling blood

Intoxicates.

Children crying from the distance,

They bleed and they beg for death..

No mercy though, and no regret

In burning everything in sight.

No God around, fuck the idea...

Forget salvation and forget your second chance,

Death is too close to be ignored...

The death will be in fire.

Anger intoxicates like drugs,

Ecstasy has no comparison...

The night envelops and it strangles tightly,

And you wish this existence would be over.

Incompetent and inadequate help

Will come to fight to save your sorry ass...

And when it's over, whom will you have to thank,

The "useless" guardians.

She thought she'd feel better after the cuts healed, after she washed away the last trace of him. She thought the sun would rise again through those black clouds that had gathered, but nothing seemed to be changing and it only seemed to be getting worse.

The Death of You

She sat on the couch, looking at her color TV and wondering when everything turned to a grayscale. The movie taunted her like a slap across the face, its subject line being something she had actually lived through and something she never again wanted to worry about. She was somewhat aware of a presence nearby, but her eyes couldn't focus on anything and she continued to stare blankly at her coffee table.

"Jesus Christ! You're in the same fucking position you were in when I left, SIX HOURS AGO!" the presence materialized into a man right in front of her.

He sat on the edge of the coffee table, held one hand on her leg and the other was moving her hair from her face. He smelled good when he leaned closer and even though around him came a cloud of cold, he warmed her up a bit.

"I'm cold." she interjected after a few minutes.

"That's because your shirt is wet, dummy. Take it off." the man continued.

His silver eyes found hers somehow and as she blinked more wet rivers found their way to her t-shirt. She looked surprised for a minute, then silently removed her shirt and happily took the one he was handing her.

"You need some sleep" he said. "When's the last time you got some shut eye."

"I don't remember."

"And food?" he asked as he tucked her in.

"I don't remember." she repeated.

"You can't keep doing this." he said finally. "It's going to be the death of you."

"Good."

And she fell asleep.

How many

How many times did you say you would change

And how many guys have I sent away?

How many nights did I beg you to stay

In how many beds have you actually stayed?

How many tears have I shed for you

And how many cuts did I sustain for you,

The one thing that's true for now anyway

Is you make my life something I'd save..

You're my weakness.

You're my strength.

You're my misery, my pain.

You're my happiness, my joy...

You're my cancer. You're my toy.