Poems from Typewriterwriter
I don't write about death because I want to die, I write about death because when death takes me I'd like to think that I am in the care of a wonderful friend. Writing is a language everyone can understand. Even when our words are confused and twisted, we find someone who translates perfectly. I speak for those who are scared and trapped and those whose voices have been stolen from them. God speaks through me and gives me strength to give to others. I will write until my end.
On a cold cloudy day,
In the middle of December,
I drove to a lovely old mansion
Abandon by the renter.
A man greeted me
When I arrived...
Turn. Look my way.
“Oh what an angel!” she exclaims
And how wonderful it is
That our paths have crossed today.
I quickly entice her
With...
I’m that girl
That’s a fly on the wall.
That girl that tries to do good things
But doesn’t get noticed at all.
I’m that girl that no one...
The dirty beasts
Scuttling around
Keeping to the shadows
Trapping
Biting
Saving for later
Waiting
For the opportune moment
To kill....
Never does the swinging stop
Always back and forth
Left to right
I’m treading for my life now,
Believe me.
Oh how long can I
Keep up...