Deadman
our souls are fickle things
they float about the world
lightless and heavy
with one mission in their heart
to find their mate
to find that one that fits
to find the counterpart to their lightless and heaviness
there is a fable that connects a red string and your wandering soul
giving it direction and clarity
fate- a woman with power and strength
ties you to another soul that intertwines yours
that's pieces fit in with yours more perfectly than any puzzle
that connects with you on the deepest most cosmic level
you will touch and the stars will open up to reveal themselves to you
you will kiss and the flowers will bloom with vibrant colors of destiny
you will be connected through every life
every atom
every breath you take will bring you closer to them
and you will love
and be loved
the blue prince loved me like we were connected
he spoke to me as if I was the only one there
his careless eyes opening up a sea of possibilities
and dazzled me into a hazy stumble
we loved
we cherished
and every word he spoke I believed he was true
his manipulations became common
it was as if we were laying in a toxin-laden field
with thin ripped masks
holding hands and smiling
because we didn't know what it meant to be wrong
we thought that each step we took together
was in the right direction
but we had wandered so far off that yellow brick road
that it was amazing the flying monkey’s hadn't ripped us apart
it was a simple fact of...
we didn't fit
yet I loved
thinking that's what was right
for we were connected
yes?
then I mourned him
for fate had cut our tie
and I believed his soul now fell
into the vast darkness of the afterlife
I was left with a simple message
a fleeting letter written with hast words describing every detail
the blue prince had fallen and bloodied his pale knees and wrists
although fate isn't that kind
his green skin ripped at the seams
and his half-eaten heartbeat with anger
he reached to me his dead fingers wrapping around my string
I could not love a deadman, and he couldn't be unloved
he held onto me with avid determination
determined to crawl his way back
love love
he wanted love I couldn't give
for he pulled too far away, ripping our tie
his determination turned to anger and violence
each word becoming more poison-laced
and our toxin-laden field thickened
“I will always have a piece of you, and you will always have a piece of me,” he said
and he was right,
he held and held
and I couldn't seem to get away
because with each block I sent he seemed to rise from the rubble
it was like a rebirth and the cycle continued
“Sometimes I pretend they're yours”
he said,, along with a bloody photo and nimble fingers
i... couldn't breath
was this what love was?
fear?
how could a dead man be so alive?
how could a dead man never seem to cry?
that deadman was so alive
and every moment next to him was a blur
I don't even remember how I buried him once again
all I remember is the magnetic pull of the shovel
as he disappeared under the dirt
I laid cement over his grave and set it with garlic and silver
I took every precaution
but that deadman
will always have a piece of my corpsed soul