Do You Really Want To Be Here?

I’ve realised that I become so overly pretentious in my exams that examiners must think I am some kind of stuck up idiot.

It was about the time I realised I used the word ‘forthwith’ in an essay.

When someone asks how your boyfriend is doing

nothingelsetodohere:

A Whispering Moon

I should be revising… I did this instead.

The rising moon upon the horizon

Sings songs that few hear.

Less than that can understand it

But those who can, they live in fear.

I myself am one of those

Who can listen and comprehend

The words sung out by the moon above

And read the messages that it sends.

Most of them are lost to me

But the few that do remain

Fresh in my mind and in my dreams

I wish they never came.

Death and pain and chaos

All things that scare us so,

And laughter cruel and black

The source, left unknown.

I’ve talked with others like me

Responded to the moon

And have been told what these visions truly mean

They’re prophesies of my doom.

So here I sit, alone like always

Gazing at the sky

Listening intently to the moon

Dictating I must die.

And after the moon has stopped talking

And the insanity settles once more

I’ll fulfil the expected prophesy

An end of pain and blood and gore.

This knife is nothing special

Plain and just brand new

It fits neatly in my palm now

And can do what it has to do.

I lift it to my chest

Steady and unafraid

And slash again and again

Till my strength begins to fade.

The blood seeps through my fingers

Dripping soundlessly as I cry

And slowly I sink to the ground

And wait painfully to die.

I followed the moon’s instructions

It promised it wouldn’t hurt

It lied, I expected no less from it

As I die, alone in the dirt.