spiderpig | every glance you shot me (i remembered)

thank you to my rebel prince

thank you for the times,
the crimes
that you did to me
(murder of my heart to the first degree)

thank you for the laughter
the smiles
the complex metaphor for tears
(i wish i did shed blood)

you ripped my heart out,
i'm trying to put it back in
to the now empty
gaping hole
... the pain fills me, oh so slow.

thank you for the good times,
bad times, fun times,
sad times (was there any?)
your touch still lingers on me

oh.
so warm.

wet.
blood?

no darling,
it's just tears.

someday, someone will kiss you
and
POOF
turn you into their prince.

me?
haha, whatever about me?
see that mangled, bent down double tree.

mother, mother stop the pain
from hurting me
stop me from reaching out
stop me
STOP ME.

i've gone too far out to come back in
mother, mother please
please
block out the wind
the rain
the PAIN.

thank you for the times,
the crimes
that you did to me
(murder of my heart to the first degree)

lost stanza of stagnated love
comebacktomecomebacktome
i want to hear your voice
touch you
touch you
see your smile
smile.

no more.

i'm leaving you now,
walking away from what never ever happened
(oh, only in my dreams)
you'll never know
how you
killed me.

the stains on the floor are dried up.
say goodbye.
i can't keep, continuing to try
~~tearstearstears~~
you. you. you. are my
first true
Lo-

treat it as though i never existed, this
painfully plain old jane, this
frog princess that never ever
got her kiss.

...wtf. i wrote that in like. 10 minutes. so pardon the incoherency of it all and the whole LENGTH of it. I think, apart from my "My" poem (in which I wrote "You're my Johnny Depp...") this might actually become my second favourite poem. You probably can count this as the 2nd part to my 'rebel prince' series. Whatever that is. Most of my poems are addressed to this ~~unknown~~ person anyway.

I know my poems aren't really poems. They're just verses that have vague rhythms, hidden meanings... All my words I choose, learning from PC lessons, have a purpose. I'll probably write all my poems and do an analysis of them. HAHA.