Can you hear me?
The room is filling now.
Streamers dance in the streams of people,
Balloons bounce overhead and children smile.
Happy Birthday,
They say.
I really wanted chocolate cake,
I say.
Your faces dulled in the dim light do not respond.
You say I always liked vanilla.
Endless crowds of people who look the same as me,
Who have my eyes,
Or hair.
Children who look like their parents, who look like my parents, who look like me,
Everywhere.
They knew me since I was "this" high,
They knew me from my first words.
Watched me take my first steps,
And yet they still bought vanilla.
Can you hear me?
The room is full now.
Swirls of cakes and creams and candy litter the tables,
Storms of parents and partners clutter the floor.
My throat is tight, to bleeding,
My face is red with heat,
Fingers clench with effort,
The shock from the vanilla.
The musics louder than the peoples laughter
(Or almost)
Vacant faces ask questions,
Smiling faces ignore the answers.
I yell for attention
(Mostly about the vanilla)
But also because of all the people at my party,
They do not see me.
Cant they hear me?
The room is crowded now.
The air is thick and the people are thick,
With sugar and poorly made alcohol,
Crazed and raving on the dance floor.
I call out for help,
You laugh and you smile,
Pat me down, such a silly child.
They made the cake especially vanilla.
Can you hear me?
Does noone notice that Im screaming?
My head is pounding now,
A sharp pain from the music beat,
A dull throb from the blood in my brain,
Face flushed and strained,
From the shock of the vanilla.
The dark room becomes hazy still,
But your faces I see still clear.
Not a mark of notice on your expressions,
Shining still bright in the dwindling light of my eyes.
Can you hear me?
Its no use, Ive no air to raise my voice.
I stand on my chair to cause a fuss,
Your dancing faces, not a care.
Does noone notice Ive stopped breathing?
The room is silent now.
The streamers still in the dead air.
Your eyes are glassy with despair,
My skin the colour of vanilla















Devious Comments
Comments
but its nice to see you post something!
well done hon
--
~*without death there are no true heros, without loss there is no true love*~
The cinnamon ones will get me killed
--
~I died inside my own head, and I'd die again, for you~
That was unexpectedly morbid. The disjointed rhythm put me in mind of a dreamy female voice, in monotone, yours perhaps when very tired with evil thoughts in mind.
And, surprisingly, I enjoyed reading it, sat here grinning as I reached the end.
Congratulations on that achievement.. I think I'll favourite it, not because it's some grand masterpiece, but because unlike so many, it actually pleased me.
With affection..
- Jack
--
"You're like a brooding, British Marquis de Sade.." - XerxesRah
- the Jakk of all arts.
You seemed to read it how I wrote it, which is nice and strange.
Im glad you liked it, I thought it was a bit odd and didnt know whether I approved of it or not.
I feel proud now though, because you liked it.
*happy Emma*
--
~I died inside my own head, and I'd die again, for you~
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