Not A Love Letter
Not a Love Letter
Mr. ToCoolToCare, that’s me. Your almighty revelation made me
laugh in your face. Mr.ToKillToCare, that’s me. Or rather, that was
me, or maybe that will always be me. But for now, that was me. Not
a love letter. A silence so cold that it burns. I gave you answers yet
you refused to hear the truth. Or rather you refused to hear MY truth, the
right truth. Not a love letter. My bet was off, the bet was off, all bets
were off. Such a silly game I played, I know. Like a wine connoisseur
I tasted and tasted until I realized that the perfect bottle was right in
front of me. When I found you, I held you, I tasted you, I would not
let you go. I could not let you go. But in my drunken haze, oblivious to
the obvious, I did not realize that you were prying yourself loose from my
hands and into that of a layman. One who I once thought of as a good friend.
But when you left you were a bottle half empty, or so I thought. By contrast,
you were barely sipped yet you still managed to put me in that state.
Kudos. Not a love letter. All I see is gray but when I look at you
I see fifty shades of pain. I’m here in the dark where I’ve finally
let the tears out. No one can see me here. No one will ever see
me here. Not a love letter. My glasses are fogged and I lose my way
until I come across a tunnel with what I can make out as the
words “You” and “I’. Yet a voice, a powerful female voice tells
me that this cannot be true. My glasses clear and the one tunnel
can now be distinguished as two. While one tunnel is void of light
the other seems to shine brighter than the sun. Can you guess which
one is “You’ and which one is “I”? I’m left to ponder ‘why’ in
the abyss that is my tunnel. Now I arrive. We are two
different people. And that’s why we were perfect. Not a love letter.
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Metro.Black
Mocking Tree
Don’t fear, Don’t fear, Don’t fear, the Mocking Tree.
Where hundreds were hanged.
And hundreds now sleep.
Forever encumbered by its gnarly roots.
And for never capable of hurting you.
Don’t fear, Don’t fear, Don’t fear, the Mocking Tree.
Where hundreds were hanged.
And hundreds now sleep.
So resilient people think in its quest for blood.
Yet so tender in its quest for love.
Don’t fear, Don’t fear, Don’t fear, the Mocking Tree.
Where hundreds were hanged.
And hundreds now sleep.
Once succinctly beautiful with its eerie white roses.
But now stained in red with its eerie crimson roses.
Don’t fear, Don’t fear, Don’t fear, the Mocking Tree.
Where hundreds were hanged.
And hundreds now sleep.
Acrimonious thoughts ever so flowing.
From the people that think it death.
Don’t fear, Don’t fear, Don’t fear, the Mocking Tree.
Where hundreds were hanged.
And hundreds now sleep.
The acquiescence on the devil’s breath.
To stop and rest under the tree of death.
Don’t fear, Don’t fear, Don’t fear, the Mocking Tree.
Where hundreds were hanged
And hundreds now sleep
where hundreds were hanged
and hundreds now sleep
Where hundreds were hanged…….
And hundreds now sleep.