The Unaccepted.

She can’t feel the wind blow 

She can’t tell to where they go

Paralyzed, the unwanted ghost crying in the corner 

The night starts singing, they won’t end the night 

They won’t end the torture, the ghost still has to face the massacre 

 

She can feel all eyes staring at her 

They’re drooling, their fangs sharpened 

They speak as they detain 

They laugh as they bite 

They scream as they kill 

And they kill as hell

 

She doesn’t want to feel anything anymore 

Like a one-winged angel, she losses her power 

No arm 

No shoulder 

No one

 

She’s the unwanted, she is the princess become the scum 

Excruciating, like a werewolf seeing a full moon 

Delivers painful messages through injuring 

Something she would live forever with 

Something she would bear as weakness 

Something she would become 

 

The unaccepted 

She would do wrong for the rest of her [unreal] life 

Screaming will be muted 

Protest will be a pantomime 

Body will be wasted 

Hand will be petrified 

Tears will be useless 

Death will be heaven

The unwanted remains still 

Night seems unfriendly 

Where dark cannot offer comfort anymore 

The owl hides its head, it tells it cannot save her anymore 

To the fanged fear, to the bitten reality 

To the fake saint who kills your soul discreetly in faux blissfulness 

She wishes to be unseen 

The ghost wishes to be a ghost. 

 

– G –