The Collector

He met her for dinner
At the most exclusive place
She wore a white dress
With a trim of black lace
Her hair curled all around
Nicely shaping her face
She had looked the part
To be in this place

He let her talk most
Sipping his wine
He chuckled at her jokes
'Til he lost track of time
He paid the check
They took a walk outside
Their eyes were bright
In the moonshine

He leaned in for a kiss
It was simple and sweet
Then it grew more passionate
The kiss became deep
They got a little closer
Her, on the tips of her feet
His hand on her head
In her hair, his fingers weaved

Then he held her hair tightly
And pulled her head back
Her eyes opened wide
And she let out a gasp
He kissed down her throat
She seemed to relax
Then he pulled out his knife
Slit her throat with one slash

She chocked on her screams
On her cries and her pleas
No sounds escaped
As he watched her bleed
No one else was around
So she was unseen
He fought against her struggles
Until she no longer breathed

He gazed upon the new corpse
Her white dress drenched in red
He thought she looked so beautiful
And was his, now that she's dead
He carried her quickly to his car
Covered her body and her head
He told her they were going to his house
If she were alive, this she would dread

Inside his house
There were others too
Two young dead girls
Their skin cold and slightly blue
They both had stained dresses
And blood drops on their shoes
They had dry slits on their necks
Forever unable to move

They were seated on a couch
Their eyes open wide
Frozen in fear
As if giving silent cries
The man, the collector
sees them as art, as a prize
claiming that things are more valuable
after the artist dies

He sets up his newly collected "doll"
Sits her on the couch upright
After she's put by his other two dolls
He looks at his collection with delight
Then the TV, which was but background noise
Said that someone had caught sight
Of a man carrying a bloody body to his car
And it gave the witness such a fright

They read and reported his license plate
By now they would be on their way
Sirens would sound, red and blue would flash
Then he'd never see the light of day
He decided not to run from them
With his collection is where he wanted to stay
He put on new clothes to look his best
When they came to take him away

He sat on the couch and heard sirens coming
He knew that he had to act fast
Looking at the dolls beside him
He smiled, took out his knife, and slashed
The blood trickled down, all over his shirt
His words of pain were blocked by the gash
The sirens soon faded and his heartbeat slowed
The last thing he saw was the red and blue flash

They found him as a fresh corpse
The breath had already left his chest
Though the three young girls had not been saved
They were glad his collecting was at rest
As they placed him in his body bag
A piece of paper fell out of his vest
Stating now that the artist, himself, was dead
His collection was now at its best

Misunderstood

He tried to run
He tried to hide
They said "It's useless"
And that he'd die
He screamed so loud to drown out the noise
Of the evil people's whispered voice

He knew they were coming
He sensed his own doom
He knew he had to leave
And he had to leave soon
He packed a few things, among them a gun
Not out of evil, just for protection

As he ran around town
He scanned through the crowds
They'd be in disguise
He had no doubt
So everyone was now an enemy
Trusting no one, for his own safety

He was crossing the bridge
When they whispered his name
He had been found
It was the end of their game
He looked all around, caught the evil ones staring
He shot them all down, gunshots flaring

But more came after him
He could see no escape
Put the gun to his head
And accepted his fate
He fell to the ground with a hole in his brain
Finally free from fear and pain

On the bridge that sorrowful day,
Four innocents were shot dead
The culprit, falsely viewed evil
Lay still in a puddle of red
No one understands, since no one knew
What the schizophrenic man went through

Suicide

Suicide; dying is an
Unfortunate
Inevitability, but how
Could you take the
Initiative to make a
Decision to have it all
End early?

Broken

She stares into the bathroom mirror

She bores into her eyes

She gazes upon the girl staring back

This girl, she does not recognize

The girl in the mirror is only the image

Just a mask she wears all day

But on the inside she is broken

Trying to keep the waves of pain at bay

In frustration and disgust

She thrusts out her fist

And then the mirror shattered

Showing what she really is

She then breaks all her plates and bowls

Even the glass that covers her clocks

She destroys everything that she sees fit

Everything with a reflection that mocks

Then she tears her clothes apart

Till there’s nothing but cloth and thread

She slashes through all the carpeting

Her knuckles staining it red

She slashes all the wallpaper

She rips the pages from her books

She slashes the sofa and bends the springs

She rips off all doorknobs and hooks

She stands in the middle of her apartment

Sees the curtains in the wind

The breeze felt nice and cooling

Against the heat of her skin

She walks towards the balcony

Slashed the curtains as she passed

Throws over the potted plant

And waits to hear the smash

Everything was broken now

Just like her, inside

There was only one thing left to break

She jumped off the balcony and died

Her blood had spilled

Her muscles were pressed

Her bones had cracked

The air left her chest

Now she lay broken

People gave cries

The last thing she thought

Was the breeze feels nice

She Swings

She takes out her pen

She writes out a note

She numbers through ten

And here’s what she wrote

(1.) I’ve tried to be so perfect

(2.) But I’m flawed and failed you all

(3.) I tried to climb the heights you set

(4.) But I slipped and now I fall

(5.) I’m tired of all the tears

(6.) I’m through with all this pain

(7.) I’m tired of running on these tracks

(8.) I’m getting off this train

(9.) We may meet again someday

(10.) I’m sorry you had to find out this way

She lays the paper on her bed

They’ll read it…. She hopes…

Then she climbs up for her necklace of rope

Pushes her feet, and then she chokes

She twitches and she panics

Then she remembers why she’s there

And she endures the heavy price to pay

As she swings in mid-air

She sways so gently, to and fro

Her body so limp and still

And then they come and find her

And on her bed, her last minute will.

Dotted Lines

Under her sleeves
Along her wrists
Are dotted lines
They are secrets

When no one's around
She looks at them and
She thinks about how
She wishes it'd end

It's so hard to take
The stress in her home
And everything makes
Her feel so alone

The darkness creeps
Into her mind
The coldness seeps
Into her spine

When does it end?
The fear, the hurt
Her heart cannot mend
It only gets worse

With no where to go
No hope can she find
She cuts along
The dotted lines