Mrs. Cynosure (May 17 1987 / Junction City Oregon)

My life has been filed with monsters.
Monsters that smack me when no one is looking,
Monsters that come in the form of words,
Even ones that push me onto their bed.

I run and hide inside of my computer,
Drowning in my tears,
Because it burns when I cry.
Looking for comfort and someone,
To just tell me,
I don’t hate you Becca Purkey.
This is just what he simply,
whispers into my ear when the moon is now bright.

He wrote his way, his way into my heart.
Within his sexy letters.
Now, within the whispers he shares only with me.
This he requires more and more of it with each sun rise.

In today’s light I can sit up,
With a smile on my face,
In the blood drenched casket,
That once laid this weeping poet.
Seeing only the devils end,
Thinking maybe I will try again,
This time not cutting to shallow.

His Texan accent placing the blade out reach,
There is not enough letters in the words THANK YOU,
To express my gratitude for him each and every day.

Thank You, Thank You My Love, I will one day repay you.
With saying I Do.