Meg, 20 april 2012
In love
with every imperfection,
the best of them
is self-destruction.
I may not be a gun,
but I am a product
of my environment.
Deep inside myself
I know I have
the potential of a monster.
I know that I could
committ great atrocities
if given the opportunity.
Give me the opportunity
and I will show you
how cruel I can be.
Meg, 29 january 2012
Baby,
I was your masochist,
I took all of your abuse with no complaint,
I enjoyed all of your anger,
every strike you struck,
I reveled in.
I loved the way you glared at me,
all the hateful words you spat.
The way you thought I was nothing.
Baby,
I was your masochist.
I threw myself into the fire,
suffering limitless in the blaze
in which I willingly cast myself,
forever burning without respite.
Baby,
I was your masochist.
Then something changed,
I didn't revel in the pain.
I hated the way you thought I was nothing,
I cringed and flinched every time you stuck me.
Just kill me and get it over with,
The way you're tearing me up
and throwing me down,
then fixing me.
It isn't right.
It's sadistic.
And baby,
I'm no longer your masochist.
Meg, 29 january 2012
Tell me my friend,
will you leave me in the end?
My Darling,
I would not leave you even if they offered me all the money in the world.
Tell me my friend,
will you love me until the day I die?
My Darling,
I will love you until the world ends.
Tell me my friend,
will you forget me in the years to come?
My Darling,
I could not forget you even if I had alzheimer's.
Tell me my friend,
will you begin to hate me for things that were not my fault?
My Darling,
I could never hate you.
Tell me my friend,
will you miss me when I'm gone?
My Darling,
I will miss you until my tears fill the ocean.
Tell me my friend,
will you kill me in the end?
My Darling,
though I wish it not,
it is the nature of the beast.
Meg, 10 january 2012
"Thou must die"
said the Sun to the Earth.
"Why must I die?"
asked the Earth.
"For thou art wicked,
and must be punished for thy crimes",
replied the Sun
as it turned from the Earth's gaze.
The Earth was cast into darkness.
Even though it was said
that the darkness would not overcome the light.
But it did
and the darkness ruled supreme
as Earth's denizens
cried out as the Sun hid
and they began to freeze.
"Thou must die"
said the Sun.
Meg, 28 december 2011
"Marry me"
"I can't"
"Yes you can. You love me, don't you?"
"Yes, but I love him also"
"Not the way you love me. I can tell"
"How?"
"It's in the way you look at me,
the way you touch me,
and the way you relax completely when you lay against me"
"I do the same with him"
"No, you don't,
not really"
A pause, a beating of two hearts.
"Marry me"
She turns away from him and swallows.
"No"
And with that, she left him standing in the doorway,
left to wonder why.
A week passed,
and then a month.
She would call,
they would talk.
"I miss you"
"Yeah? I miss you too" he says.
A pause, someone holds their breath.
"I'm marrying him"
A sigh.
"When?"
"This Thursday, at noon. St. Mary's Cathedral"
Another pause, but longer this time.
"Will you come?"
A sardonic laugh on the other line.
"Why would I do that?
Why would I put myself through that hell?
The hell of seeing the woman I love,
being married to another man?"
"I suppose you're right"
He sighs, then speaks.
"Yes, I'll come"
"You will?"
A pleading hope laces her words.
"Maybe, I'll think about it"
"Okay"
A pause,
"I have to go now."
"Okay, good-bye"
"Yeah, bye"
He hangs up,
she listens to the dial tone for a minute before hanging up too.
Thursday comes,
they're at the altar
but he's not there.
She already looked through the crowd.
Her heart falls a little
and she gets a strange ache behind her breast bone.
They say their vows,
then the priest speaks.
"Are there any here who would object to the union
of these two people?
Speak now or forever hold your peace"
* * *
He looks at the clock,
it's a little past one.
She's married now,
he thinks to himself.
He gets up out of his chair
and grabs his keys,
then heads for the door.
* * *
The door opens,
he looks on in disbelief.
She stands there,
panting and holding her white dress.
"It was always you.
I love you,
and I want to marry you,
not him.
Because it's you I love,
not him.
When I close my eyes to go to sleep,
it's you that I see,
and when I breathe,
it is you that I'm breathing in.
Not him.
It was always supposed to be you"
Meg, 28 december 2011
In a single heart beat,
a single breath,
everything changed.
Suddenly the world wasn't where it used to be.
Suddenly it no longer revolved around the sun.
With one look,
she became his entire focus.
and he knew on an animal instinct,
that she was his
and he was hers.
His soul screamed and ached for her,
and he knew on a gut level
that he would protect her at all costs.
With everything that he was,
he would possess her,
and she would possess him
and they would not be denied.
For she was his and his alone,
she was his soulmate.
Bound his and made his by the universe.
Meg, 24 december 2011
The Fae,
are what they are.
They make no qualms about it,
they do not try to be anything
other than what they are.
If they are cruel,
they are cruel.
If they are a devoted lover,
a sybarite,
they are at peace with it
and celebrate it.
If they belong to the Court of Shadows,
they relish in the baser emotions:
lust, violence, pain, war, etc.
To the Summer Court,
they revel in dance,
frivolty, impulses.
To the Winter Court,
they enjoy the snow,
the cold, and the slow dying of the earth.
To the High Court,
they follow logic, reason,
stasis.
The Fae
have no gender preference
when it comes to who they love.
Why should we humans
be any different?
Isn't so much harder
to deny ourselves of what we are?
You cannot eviscerate essential self.
You deny what you are,
and you lose yourself.
Is that any way to live?
Meg, 24 december 2011
For some unkown reason,
she looks up towards the door.
She sees it swing shut
behind a familiar shape.
The beautiful lovely,
she gives a sigh.
She wishes she had the courage
to go after the Shadow Boy.
She had a dream about him the other night.
She dreamt that she had kissed him.
The beautiful lovely,
how she wanted to bring
those dreams to life.
How she really wished
she could kiss the Shadow Boy.
Meg, 24 december 2011
He sees her
across a crowded room.
A beautiful lovely,
that he dares not touch.
He imagines
that he has the nerve
to go up and kiss her on the lips.
He lies in bed and has conversations with her
in his head.
A beautiful lovely,
as he closes his eyes,
he dreams of her
and how they could be.
And as he wakes,
he swears
he can still feel her touch.
The beautiful lovely
across the room
doesn't even know he exists.
He bids a silent good-bye,
knowing they could never be.
He should have been her everything.
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