Short Collection

Comfort

Delicate
Broken
Submission
Limbs are torn
and slightly bent
The wound contains
a potent scent
I can't stop bleeding!

Vague

Those nights
bring back memories
Why can't I stop
remembering?

Dreams

These dreams are unpleasant
There are monsters and demons
of a great vastness forming one
Tonight they join
with a combination
of endless fear
Where does it end?
Where is the dream-eater?

Panic

I wish I was immortal
I wish I were fake
Unborn, unreal
Nameless to the world

In My Eyes

I woke in another place
With fire burning
and the smell of
rotten flesh.

The struggle to move
became more vacant
So I lift my leg
only to notice
there was nothing
there

A terrible laugh
A huff of hot-breath
A figure in black emerged
asking for my soul

This is what dreams
are like when
I am not sober

Erase

Waiting at the end of the road
No food
No money
No tears left to cry
I'm lost
dead to the world
Dead to the world
I've created
Sometimes
I like to envision myself
as a god
A god that saves the unfamiliar
Is there even such a thing?

Fiction/Non-Fiction Collection 2002
©Bobby Ruelas

Silhouettes of A Mindless-Game

The doom of a velvet crush
The fear in the pain we lust
Your tear duct is
pierced with a tear
-Am I your God?

Enamel bites their thoughts away
on this very cold
Wednesday-Grey
The bleeding of a wound
conceived the dream
with a cry
-Did you really wish me to die?

Acid, morphine; the drugs are
taking me whole
Now I'm gashing
my throat and
peeling skin
My thoughts are
much worse
from within
There are voices
of an ignorant sound
Speaking in tongues
Speaking in fear
Speaking of death

-Though it is too late
I've committed my own crime!

Fiction 2002
©Bobby Ruelas

Used

I hope this is what you wanted!
Because this is what you're getting
The parasitic allies
The abuse of a broken heart
So clean; So pure
Filled to be inferior

Please! come cleanse
me once more
you filthy little whore!
So secrete, couldn't even
bare your own grief!

She was found hanging
naked. Even the scars
could not conceal
her innocence.
And the therapist
well...the therapist
simply ignored
her neurosis disease.

Trashed, slashed
abused down to the core
She finally gained the chance
to exploit herself
and yet, it was nothing
that the witches-hag
couldn't fix; The invitation
was so vacant

Slowly
Than
Faster
the blood ran
straight to her brain
and she just hung there
naked
waiting for
cold hands
to get numb

Fiction Collection 2002
©Bobby Ruelas