Angeline Rose

Love of the Loveless.
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2008-01-22 03:19:56 (UTC)

The Butterfly Effect- Through words of the third degree.

The person you were.
You were Dear Satan himself,
built in a larger frame, and smaller anger.
You weren't as sadistic as my little mind thought you could be.
You were a tiny flame, who ignited to the wildfire you were
so meant to be,
You were the echo of my nightmares.
You were the scratches to my skin.
The missing pieces in my scalp.

Every little mistake I made,
was another punishment set from hell.
Every little mess I made,
was a lesson from God, not to do it again.
So what was the big deal, in my little mess?
Could no one feel my pain?
You're coming back, You're coming back.
-----------

The quaint little town that little did know,
[1]the pain endured, in the middle of the snow-
In my heart lied a tiny little quiver,
whose earthquakes roamed,
[2]throughout the rivers-
From my face
could see,
the world through its eyes-
Was a distant past,
kept too long, to despises?

But alas-
woe me.
My heart is but old,
my eyes, still young,
my smile still, showing tongue. [you know, how babies/kids
smile with their mouth open/babies don't have teeth]
[3]Don't dare speak a word to her,
that would set her off-
[4]To the mountains we go,
and find a moth,
whose heart was broken from a butterfly
who flown so freely through the skies.
She hid behind the wings with cries,
of the fluttering elegance,
where her security was put to the test,
of its weak hearts diligence.

But alas-
woe she.
Wings torn apart,
the butterfly you see-
too amazing with art.
The moth,
she sits,
sits all alone-
bashing her head
into the light that shown;
"Why couldn't I be,
so bright and free?
The butterfly oh she,
with her beautiful free will,
her majestic art,
and fluttering chill"

That moth- one night,
she lie awake-
then SWAT,
a man,
met heart to stake.
The stake, no bigger,
than a paper clip,
the metal,
no stronger,
than a baby's hip.

That baby,
so fragile,
so alone, in May.
Mother was out, father was away.
Jennie would tuck him,
fairly into bed.
Her soft little lullaby,
and cooes to his head.
But Jenny left, when Dad threw a beer-
now she's gone forever,
[5]with nothing but a tear-
to leave dear baby,
[6]all alone
was a hard, heart-wrenching,
[7]battle thrown-
to her heart,
she lie there,
still awake-
thinking would not take the the hate.
She went back to the house-
one August Morning,
to find the baby,
and give him warning-
but left to see,
a dreadful thing-
the baby stuffed,
under the sink.
Dear Jenny,
that day;
she did do vow-
to never leave,
in no-matter hows,
to leave a baby;
alone.

-------
Uh. Yeah. Idunno.
I was in a funny mood. Still in a good mood, but a more-
in-depth kinda mood. The numbers all have something in common.
It carries one sentence to another, meaning 2 things at one.
Like in Romeo and Juliet, when Juliet explained her feelings
to her mother, I think, and used both her feelings, but
connecting it with another set of words to contrast it; and
make it please her mother, with a hidden secret in the letters.
You know?
Well yeah.
Idunno. I was feelin' cool. It's actually really old. I
found it in my 7th grade journal book thing. SICK AS SHIT.


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