This Is Me

It's not you that I am afraid of. Or your words. Or violence. It's not your face that frightens me, Or your world, Or beliefs. It's not what you love that worries me, Or who, Or lack of. It's not you that frightens me at all. Just death, And his ability. In comparison to yours. Because why should I fear you, Or your words, Or violence. When death can take everything, Like my love, And my life. So why should you scare me? Ever today, Or tomorrow. When this could be my last sentence. Right now, Or never. Boneata Bell 2014

To be the ticking bomb of time, Two lovers link in perfect rhyme. Crystals on the burning moon, In deadly pace and time, and tune. To be the artwork on the clock, With ribbon on the child's frock, Stained and fraying at the hem, The Reaper will appear again. To be the stalker, follow free, He will turn and run to me. Aphrodite, now shall see, A goddess judged by number three. With corners sharp and edges strong Lava, she did not belong. Owner to her devil sin, Devil makes her sin again. To be the marble strength of touch, Liquid burns as gasses clutch. Water makes retreat so soon, He has no time, to warn the moon. To be the God of growing seed, We abuse the flower and plant the weed. Sunshine she did not belong, To acoustic strength or bird's love song. Sweetheart, I do not find, Love in battle, or strength in time. Manipulate a word for me, Make it real, set her free. Boneata Bell