Anathema

Oh what the heck! For the sake of being a beginner blogger, I'll give you a poem I wrote two days ago. (26/09/2012). This poem was inspired by interviews of sick-minded criminals.

This poem titled "Anathema" (meaning: 1. a person or thing detested or loathed: That subject is anathema to him) is about being blamed, or being in a bossy relationship, of which the feelings derived from that consume you to the point that you crack. In particular, this guy retaliates by conjuring up some sick fantasy that he acts upon.

Everyone feels like they were to blame for something at least once in their life, whether it was trivial or serious..."HEY! She took my 4-pen!"...

Anathema

Ever since I grew up, I was always the one to blame

She blamed me for her problems, she relished on my pain

I'd sit all by myself, channeling through my brain

Wretched thoughts I had of her, I believed I was insane

She tried to convince me, I was crazy needing help

It started not to bother me, the less emotion I felt

I knew I wasn't normal, but normal she wasn't too,

My thoughts grew into fantasies, desires only grew

Caring less about my live, to live by her standards

I sealed the ground no falling down with one direction "upwards"

I felt aroused and I didn't mind, my thoughts were taking over

I pushed her down and she blacked out, I pulled her legs in closer

She woke up tied to a chair, with cuts over her skin

Her toe I cut off precisely, I tossed it into a bin

My dear friend Goku's response: "Well that escalated quickly!". Tell  me what you thought, and if you experienced the "escalation"!

Welcome

Welcome to BonnieBeats. I'm Bonnie! I should have started a blog years ago. I have so much lyrical and poetic content to show the world. This will be showcased on a weekly basis. You may also see video recordings of some of the lyrical content accompanied by piano and vocal.

To start off, my favourite poem I have written of all time, called "The Tourniquet". Mind you, it doesn't rhyme well (not that it is necessary). It's more-so an impulsive means to release my feelings at the time. You can also find this poem on my Tumblr (which completely sucks no offence).

This short poem is about a boyfriend that returns to me after I've had plenty of time to adjust to the loneliness that entailed after the initial breakup. 

The Tourniquet

The peace and quiet that may amend a broken heart,

Builds up on its' bandages and defines its' loneliness

The tourniquet depriving me of breath,

Applied by the one I adored.

Alone yet not at peace, fragments yearn to stay,

The bandages have broken but remain unspoken

The one I adored has yet to justify his return,

The loneliness had begun to settle in well