Knives, Ropes and Pills: An Anthology by Tommye J. Turner - HTML preview

They Must

The running, the screaming. I can’t take it anymore. Why is this happening to me? They have to die. There is no choice. Sunken and swollen, I can see how they think; they think they can stop me but they know that they can’t. They’re not ready but they are prepared. They are living but they will die. No one can know but how do I stop them? Do I cut it up? Would that work? I don’t know. I’m scared. I don’t want to die. They must die. Help me. No one is coming. This is driving me insane! Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP!

 

 

Knives, Rope and Pills

 

There is no hope for humanity

If the response to nature is death.

Issues, problems and malcontent

All doomed to walk the same path.

 

The weak cower and shake,

Whilst they sharpen and cringe.

 

Minds are the deadliest weapon

So control converts catastrophe, but

When there is no will only bones survive

To tell the tale of a broken mind.

 

There are so many options for dying,

It could take you a lifetime to decide.

 

Nothing is ever as it seems.

The situations undertaken by one

Is never the same for another.

To generalise is to condemn their life done.

 

No one can help you, but you.

 

 

The Father

 

Animosity surrounds the solitude

My life covets, yearns and craves.

The loathing of the monstrosity

Turns my atoms into slaves.

There was a time I became that brute,

When I sought out to destroy.

Now I can see that I was wrong to hurt,

Those whom I love and respect.

 

Because of that dreaded prescription

I was left to fend for myself.

Eight times I moves from place to place

Like a ragged toy thrust onto a shelf.

The folks were nice but not until nine

Did I find a household called Home.

They’re good to me through good school and food

yet I still find myself feeling alone.

 

I hate that man that I do not know

Who left me alone in the dark.

Fury and Rage still haunt me this day;

That’s old Daddy leaving his mark.

My features and genes are all that we share,

and I shall be the principled man.

Brothers and sisters and children alike,

I shall not be the father that ran.

 

 

Vorfreude

 

The anticipation is driving me insane!

I can hear her pulse through the smell of sweat on her breasts.

The sweet, succulent sensation striving to be taken by force,

And I am the one who must fulfill this task.

My heart beats with hers in an attempt to connect.

Furious! She looks away as I stare into her eyes. Why?

I have an urge that must be satisfied like a serpent devouring a mouse.

I must feed or I will die, I must devour or I will not survive.

 

 

Watching

 

Delicately, Carefully,

I see you lay there.

Motionless, Cover-less,

How are you so fair?

Perfectly, Wonderfully,

You twist and you turn.

Trembling, Reeling,

My tips go to touch.

Softer, Rougher,

I sink into flesh.

More awake, more alert,

You’re free of it now.

 

 

Death of Evil

 

I was drowning,

Downing in a sea of worms, grit and disused memories.

Insects besieged my collapsing skull as I wondered about this secluded prison.

 

So there is no Heaven,

So there is no God,

So there is no Hell,

So there is no Devil.

 

My life was obsolete, futile, useless and idle.

Why then was I forced to endure the good and the bad of my life before?

There is no special deity or divine being watching over the world,

There isn’t even a demon to torture me for eternity.

 

Maybe this is Hell,

Maybe this is my punishment,

Maybe my mind is my harrower,

Maybe this is all I am.

 

The abyss that encloses my carcass burns into my soul,

Exhibiting my shameful, sadistic sins,

Showing how menacing my compulsive actions were to those who suffered at my fateful grasp.

 

I was him,

I was the terror,

I was the tormentor,

I was the traumatic,

I was the tragic.

 

 

Playing on His Mind

 

Havoc

Playing on his mind.

The child;

Swollen and

Broken,

Talking to white walls.

Revenge?

Or anger?

No consequence

For the consciousness

When he sits

And soaks up the screams.

 

 

She

 

I have a heart and it’s tearing up,

The pieces, I choke up at night.

They pull themselves up and do reach through my throat,

I wake, scarcely breathing, and spit in my cup.

 

Death’s my tormentor, my torturer, my teacher.

She screams through my mind so that sleep still evades me.

Her wild, wild eyes prove my life is for the taking,

Embrace this, I shall, so my dearest shall stir.

 

The neck is pulsating so vividly I see,

He pulls up so harshly and points upwardly.

The Lust! It consumes me! Their life in my hands,

I’m now playing God, so their God will be me.

 

Deciding on guilt or a thrilling escape,

I feel for the family, but not enough to retreat.

One more every month, that’s how it shall be,

She wants me to fail now but I shall make no mistake.

 

 

Alone

 

Are you so sure

In yourself

That you drive them all away

Leaving you alone?

 

They all care

About how you are now

Yet say nothing

Out of fear you will drift yet again.

 

No one is like you

However friends are still important.

You want to be alone

But there is one you want with you.

 

 

Don’t Cry at Me

 

Don’t cry at me,

Smile at me.

Why so many tears?

I love your laugh,

Your magical laugh,

So smile at me my dear.