Hunger

By Carly Floyd

8/9/09

There's a venom in my subconscious that

swims beneath the surface.

Like hellbent ravens

Chasing victims to their deaths.

Like decapitated, mutilated children.

Like a poison, it spreads

Like cancer,

Eating away at me from within.

This thing, destroying me,

as much as it is me.

It is me. It.

IT

IS

HUNGRY.

Pink Glitter Girl

By Carly Floyd

1/17/10

Pale pink glitter fragments

Laying on the floor.

Broken into pieces

Not breathing anymore,

No longer dreams of fairies

All purple pink and gold,

No dreaming of a princess

High in castles cold.

Shiny yellow ringlets

Hair spread out all around.

The blush is slowly fading

Her blood spread on the ground.

In tattered strips of chiffon

She lays, a dusty rose.

Pale lips forever parted

But why, nobody knows.

So say goodbye to innocence

I see the tears you cry.

For, five years old, a little girl

Is far too young to die.

I'm Fine

By Carly Floyd

12/27/09

For all the burdens layed on me by

Them I cannot bring

myself to let them see

my Pain.

I feel sad

almost always and yet I

hide it through shallow

smiles that don't

reach my eyes.

But they don't

notice because they don't want

to pretend their world

isn't perfect.

Even if they go through the

motions of asking what's

wrong, they don't want to

know.

They're fooling themselves.

So I only break down at

night, and the tears fall onto my

pillow and glue my eyes shut until

the morning when I put on my mask,

however fragile the disguise.

Visions of the Future

By Carly Floyd

12/27/09

At night, when sleep escapes me, and

My brain will not quiet, I think of what

My future might be like.

I imagine a dark apartment

A brooding woman over a glass of wine

Reflecting on past promises that did not bear fruit.

Wishing perhaps to attract pity,

If only in desperate need of attention,

But there is no one to notice her darkened heart.

This loneliness is not imagined or thought,

It is real.

Finally something to complain about,

Not just the dark musings of one who loves the black.

But no one to see her waste away.

If a spinster dies unknown in a darkened

room, did she ever really die?

Or never truly live?

The truth lies in the latter, I think, and

such is my future, alone.

Phone Call

By Carly Floyd

12/27/09

They say holidays are a time of reflection

Laughing with family,

I am interrupted in my joy and warmth

by a phone call

made, steeped in loneliness

Guilt

I am forced, through my own morals

to bear their pain

I am pain

And nothing but the collective burdens of

My loved ones.

I only wish someone would notice.

Father

By Carly Floyd

12/27/09

he is the unpredictable terror

a storm

always clouds -

fragile hints of what might come

in the fury he can unleash

with very simple cause

like a butterfly taking flight

in a distant place.

sometimes, it takes quickly.

other times it stews and

flashes, thunders, hails

rattles window frames.

sometimes I wish it would

break the glass and

let the wind and rain

fly in and

carry me away.

but the tempest always stops

before I have anything substantial

to fear.

constant paranoia.

I know now to always wear a raincoat

and ward against the sleet.

for a storm will always be

just on the horizon.

Star

By Carly Floyd

11/30/09

The soul is a star

When you die,

it floats

to the sky.

To be there forever.

Or at least until the last memory of you

is gone.

And then the star will fade

No longer lighting the dark

And that is truly death.