NicolieBird

Seeing what you blocked out now reeling Which is that deep, sickening feeling Have you really been self-made blind, That you cannot seethe inner-works of the mind? But you just cannot see nor accept this Which is my hollow inner-ness Reach between my blackened chest Gunked with my "clock-work" never at rest Touch the vacant, slaughtered hole Of what belongs to my bleak, broken soul Can you feel the way I suffer Or is your touch distorted by something tougher? But why point me out And a crazy claim you shout Of all my written and deep down shame Of all that I can find no blame But to turn my finger back At all those of you who slammed me off t

Dark and freaky is my talent Laid out upon my blood-stained pallet I write things which deeply burn And in your sleep you'll toss and turn Poetry written as a horrid source Darkness which must run its course And maybe my writings show Truths which none wish to know But some, most, will never understand The object of power i hold with my hand The power of my pen is strong Which shall prove me all but wrong

oh pretty little devil how you walk upon my soul you feed the urges that wont settle and drag me by the deepest thrull what will i do you keep you pleased your damage might just shatter me and if i lay just still enough i just might learn to love your touch The way you beacon me I'd swear you'd always give me joy but as i creep much closer still i see the trap you've set to wait And though i know i am but dead i still follow you regardless but oh pretty little devil... you are everything but harmless