If You Please

By Catharina Christiana

If you must be a smoker,

Please realize that you will die of cancer

Just because you’re the one ingesting the toxin

Doesn’t mean you’ll be the only one in a coffin

If you must be a drug abuser,

Please cease your role as producer, seller, and consumer

Just because you’ve become addicted to heroin

Doesn’t mean everyone else should begin

If you must be a child molester,

Please keep away from my son and daughter

Just because at age eleven you were no longer a virgin

Doesn’t mean you’re as harmless as a mannequin

If you must be a pornographer,

Please hesitate to ask me to be your photographer

Just because you were exposed to it by your cousin

Doesn’t mean others should come from the same origin

If you must be a stripper,

Please exit the room in a modest manner

Just because you’re ever so thin,

Doesn’t mean you should be wearing nothing but your skin

If you must be a hooker,

Please start attending church while consulting a minister

Just because you’re intoxicated with gin

Doesn’t mean you should be accumulating so much kin

If you must be a lover,

Please refrain from turning my husband into an adulterer

Just because it’s you he’s attracted to and not your twin

Doesn’t mean you should be committing such a sin

If you must be a fighter,

Please serve your country overseas as a soldier

Just because you walk away from every battle with a grin

Doesn’t mean you’ll always win

If you must be a serial killer,

Please consider the shame you put on each family member

Just because you almost died by overdosing on aspirin

Doesn’t mean you can seek vengeance like an assassin

If you must be a murderer,

Please don’t act like what you did doesn’t matter

Just because you’ve escaped society to live in a cabin

Doesn’t mean you’ll be forgiven

The Only

By Catharina Christiana

I am the one you’ve been waiting for

I am the one you’ve been working for

I am the one you’ve been wishing for

I am the one you’re enquiring for

I am the one you’re exploring for

I am the one you’re endeavoring for

I am the one you’ll be looking for

I am the one you’ll be longing for

I am the one you’ll be living for

I am the only one you

Will ever love

The Virgin

By Catharina Christiana

He loves me, he hates me not

The touch of his calloused skin

As he lifts up my soft chin

Our first kiss happens before the first date

As I foolishly expect him to be my lifelong mate

His body acting primarily on adrenaline

As if it was like an addiction to heroine

Promiscuity and casual sex acts tend to fill me with hate

Making me question if it’s really fate

Disregarding any form of self-discipline

From there I was completely certain

Now I’m no longer single and reluctantly able to procreate

Yet I know I’ll lose him too soon will be too late

Confined in as a virtuous virgin

Not internally inclined to commit a sin

Blonde hair, blue eyes was what I always preferred

While some think it to be absolutely absurd

Couldn’t stand being away from him, not even a yard

To simply contact one another became hard

Not a thespian, stoner, musician, or jock but a nerd

For some, not all, it was unheard

A vengeful friend speaks his mind like a retard

While being kept from one another by a fat ugly guard

Only letting in hypocrites if they knew the password

Banned from loving him, yet I remained undeterred

It is only with him I wish to be

But instead I’ll have to remain loveless and rot

No compromise made, no one even concurred

There’d no longer be the excuse of being misheard

Even though I’ll remain scarred

My feelings for him I can’t possibly discard

If only his actions spoke louder than his assuring word

People wouldn’t make assumptions of his past that recurred

He’d then be living up to his name as a bard

Yet I know I’ll always hold him in high regard

Should I consider him to be my second ex or third?

My only regret is wishing ‘it’ had occurred

I can’t help but question where he’s been

His past years with others, way back when

But that doesn’t matter; I’ll just wait and wait

When there’s not a possibility to start a new slate

I’ve grown teary-eyed, tired, and tremendously thin

By just desiring to be buried beside him in a coffin

He’s someone no one will ever be able to recreate

There’ll never be any other that’ll possess his every trait

My loyalty, friendship, and forever-lasting love within

Will have to remain clandestine

It’s my own fault that I couldn’t relate

And calculated his worth by what I couldn’t tolerate

Leaving me with only chagrin

The claddagh no longer faces in

He hates me, he loves me not

Broken Rose

By Catharina Christiana

Your eyes stealthily and steadily stare without a conscious care

As they urgently undress my body for an unheralded brusque bliss

Your lips softly and silently simulate successions of notorious notes

As they attentively access my ears to emphatically enlighten and exhume

Your hands sensually and sexually snare without a deferential dare

As they lovingly lift my face for a lifelong foreseen kiss

Your satanic sexuality and my sinister sensuality delight in debauched dotes

As our beating, blood red roses bloom

My vitality excessively exceeds an impact of impair with no repertoire of repair

Like it’s inexorably and implacably plunging your physicality into an adulterated abyss

My emotionality expressively exploits an unfair undercurrent of questionable quotes

Like it’s tortuously and teasingly misleading your mentality into a restricted room

My morality expectantly expounds a demise of despair with no promise of prayer

Like it’s yearningly and yieldingly sacrificing your spirituality into a meaningless myth

My pristine personality and your immaculate individuality discontinue our dedicated devotes

As our fading, fatally hopeless hearts foredoom

The Letter

By Catharina Christiana

         “Hey Dane, wake your ass up and put some clothes on! If I have to come down there again and see you putting your peanut sized dick into some girl’s saggy vagina, I’m going to dump all your booze down the drain and steal your cigs for myself! So get the fuck up already!” shouts Nicki at a heightened roar.

         Dane rolls onto his back awaken from his short slumber. He turns onto his side to find the bare back of a woman, covered up to her hips in the sheets and comforter of his bed. Marks were left on her back from his fingernails and her hair was tangled and wet from sweat. A rope lay beside her head tied to the bedpost, probably from last night’s fun with the woman. He lifts his head to look past her and sees her clothes strewn across the floor while his lay at the foot of the bed. He presses his hand down on the mattress as he gets up and discovers dampness. The bedding was drenched in either beer or cum; he couldn’t tell the difference although it was probably both. The next moment he hears heavy footsteps pounding down on the stairs into the basement of which he resides in. Knowing it was Nicki, he sits up, covering himself in one of the damp sheets. She bursts through his bedroom door without even knocking. The woman on his bed wakes up from hearing the commotion.

         “It’s only been a week since you and Cate broke up and already this is your third whore you’ve brought home,” accuses Nicki as the woman on his bed opens her mouth in disgust and shame.

         Dane starts to say “booty booty all the…”

         “time, thank god you’re not dating a dumb bitch. I know, I’ve heard it plenty of times before,” ridicules Nicki.

         “I do as I please when I’m single,” replies Dane.

         “Yeah, what the fuck-ever, Dane. If you want to get yet another girl knocked up and contract an incurable STD, go right ahead.” She snobbishly addresses the naked woman on his bed with “Hi, my name is Nicki and do you have a name aside from whore?”

         The woman glares at Nicki and finally says, “Yes, my name is Marge.”

         “Well then Marge, you’ve over-stayed your welcome and since I see Dane is done having his way with you, I must urge you to get your clothes on and leave.”

         “In a moment, Nicki,” Dane commands agitatedly.

         “I’ll be outside your bedroom door waiting then,” remarks Nicki.

         “What a bitch,” whispers Marge as Dane chuckles silently to himself.

         “I’d tell her myself but I value my face. I don’t want to get punched and have it end up looking like hers,” rebukes Marge.

         “I heard that, whore!” hollers Nicki from outside his bedroom.

         Dane hands her clothing to her with the sheet still wrapped around his waist. She grabs them viciously from him and comments that he should get natural male enhancement pills because she’s had bigger and experienced better.

         “See?! I’m not the only one who thinks that!” interrupts Nicki as she continues to eavesdrop.

         “You know who likes you, Nicki?” yells Dane.

          “Who!?” asks Nicki excitedly.

         “NOBODY!” barks Dane.

         Once dressed, Marge leaves his bedroom, walking her way towards the basement door leading outside. “Have fun trying to get the next guy to have sex with you, whore. It gets harder when they’re not drunk because they actually see what you really look like,” teases Nicki.

         “Alright, now that you’ve humiliated and insulted my guest, what is it that you want?” inquires Dane.

         “Well, I don’t want you, that’s for sure,” claims Nicki.

         “Right, then for what reason did you chase away Marge?” asks Dane.

         “You’ve got a letter in the mail,” announces Nicki.

         “Oh really?” Dane questions curiously as she hands him the letter. He examines the thickness of the white envelope and reads the lettering in black gel pen.

         “It doesn’t say who it’s from or the address of where it’s from,” says Dane as he thinks that maybe it’s from Cate.

         “Heh, I can see why. No one in their right mind would want you to know their name or address for fear of molestation and sodomy,” reasons Nicki.

         “I wouldn’t ass rape someone,” asserts Dane.

         “Not while you’re sober, you won’t,” insinuates Nicki as she walks out of his room and up the stairs.

         “Well when am I ever sober!?” Dane shouts up to her.

         “…Wait,” he says to himself as he realizes his stupidity and defeat in the verbal battle.

         Dane tosses the letter on top of his dresser amongst all the stacks of cheap pornographic magazines. As he walks towards his bed, he steps on something wet and rubbery. He picks up his foot and peels off a used condom, throwing it atop the nightstand in the large tray he uses as an ashtray now filled with cigarette butts and incense. He stumbles through empty beer cans as he makes his way to his bed, cursing silently to himself. He flops down, lying on his back, resting his hands behind his head, as he stares up at the insulation hanging from the ceiling left in shambles from the last time he was in a drunken rage. His eyes move to the poster on his wall featuring two naked women in intimacy with one another. Then his eyes shift to a canvas painting on the other wall. It was of himself sitting nude except for a bikini top and bottom which was lifted to his side revealing his genitalia. He tightens the bed sheet around his waist and walks towards the painting. “Ah-ha,” he says to himself as he lifts the painting from the wall and turns it around where in the corner a small package was taped. He gently unpeels the tape from the back of the canvas; carefully making sure the package doesn’t get damaged. With the package safely removed and in hand, he starts to progress back to his bed but then stops and snatches the unopened  letter from the dresser and piles of porn, and toddles back to bed to lay down once again. He opens the package delicately, removing a handful of marijuana and two joints the width and length of a cigar that he previously rolled. Grabbing a lighter from the tray on the nightstand, he lights one of the marijuana cigarettes, leaning back on the several pillows that lay behind him. He puts the letter on the side of him, atop the covers. With the blunt to his lips between his index and middle finger of his left hand, he inhales deeply. With only three hits, half of it only remained. His eyes redden and eyelids begin to flicker open and closed until they finally shut. His left arm falls over the side of the mattress, the joint still in hand.

         Girlish giggles and shrieks of laughter echo through his head, the sounds gradually growing softer into hushed whispers. Curious hands were touching all his physical imperfections as they taunted and teased him. “You better not tell anyone, little boy,” one of the girls threatened. Dane whimpered, “I won’t” in compliance as their hands became more aggressive and searching. Hands all around him were moving ever so quickly, seeking his private parts. He felt every pinch, grope, yank, twist, until every pang of pain resulted in a high pitched yelp and a pleading scream. “No, stop, you’re hurting me!” A hand crushed his mouth shut as his cries carried on unheard.

         Dane twitches in his sleep as a drop of sweat trickles down his forehead. He then finds himself in a bathroom with the hot water running from the showerhead. Steam from the heat of the hot water fogs the mirror and the features of his face begin to blur. He wipes the steam in a circular motion to recover the reflection of his soft, pale, pudgy face. He runs his fingers through his short golden hair as he smiles. Then his little boy grin turns into a frown and his deep dimples on his somewhat plump yet handsome face disappear. He stares disappointingly at his two top teeth that were slightly over biting his crooked lower teeth. He examines his jaw line and neck, hoping for some facial hair that would signify manhood but there was none. That frown deepens as he sees the bathroom door slowly swings open in the reflection of the mirror. He turns around abruptly to see a corpulent teenage girl staring at him as he stands there naked. The door opens wider as fumes of alcohol, cigarettes, and marijuana permeate the bathroom, in flaring his sense while the music blaring from his brother’s room starts to fade as the girl closes the door behind her, with her eyes still steadily on him. The next moment, he was on the cold tiled floor, his eleven year old body being crushed by the weight of this strange girl. Fear penetrates him as tears escape the crooks of his beseeching azure eyes. His light blue eyes widen as his quivering mouth opens to release a scream but his lungs could not relinquish enough air for him to give one. His shaking body was no longer his own as she proceeded to rape him, taking his virginity in her drunken delirium.

         Dane’s head tosses and turns from side to side on the pillow. A dark shape from far away catches his sight and a violent surge overwhelms his body. Memories that he tried to forget came forth to haunt him in his sleep. Long nights spent in the bathroom with a razor against his skin, making numerous cuts and carvings of such words like hate and death. Losing battles fought in his bedroom with a lighter, set of matches, and sometimes magnesium strips, as his skin would bubble and burn, leaving its lasting mark as a horrid scar. Moonlit summer nights cast the only light in the shed as a noose swung from the ceiling but it was never his neck that would wear the dreaded necklace, not yet at least. With each worsening thought of his attempts at self-mutilation and unsuccessful suicide, an unseen razor would slice his skin. By the time the flashbacks seemed to have ceased, the entirety of his lean body was covered in little, burning razorblade cuts. Each wound released a trickle of blood and when the last drop fell to the ground, the menacing form emerges from a distance, moving closer to him.

         When he thought all was calm yet another fierce force came over him. The uncontrollable need to give into addiction was fulfilled as a match struck and was put to the tip of his cigarette while he smoked one after the other. The curiosity to try and experience new things resulted in lines of cocaine made with a straight edge upon a table as he snorted the white substance through a rolled up piece of paper. The desire to fit in with the people surrounding him as a belt is wrapped taunt around his bicep while he injected a needle containing heroine through his skin and vein. Boredom and with nothing else better to do, his lighter struck the base of a bong setting the marijuana slightly aflame as he took a long, deep hit. The feeling of depression and no longer caring what may happen gets swallowed down while a half empty bottle of prescribed pills falls out of his hand onto the living room floor and he collapses on the couch. Fun pursued and the want to forget gets guzzled down until every bottle, can, and glass of beer and liquor was consumed. While his belly is beyond the brink of being full, the goal is achieved when all is numb and thoughtless.

         The mysterious figure moves even closer to Dane and it was now blatantly obvious that the thing was indeed a person draped in a black cloak, its face in shadows. His skin suddenly starts to burn right before his eyes but he couldn’t see the thing inflicting the pain upon him. Small circular welts appear on his skin as he winces in the excruciating pain. It was as if ends of lit cigarettes were burning his flesh and leaving bits of ash all over his slim body. Smoke drifts from each newly made burn and Dane started to question why this was happening to him. The unknown thing commenced walking even closer to him. He backed away thinking the mysterious person was the one causing all the razor cuts and cigarette burns. But the further he moved away, the faster the dark figure moved towards him. He feels a drop of liquid on his bare shoulder and a slight burning sensation. He stops to examine what it is and he jumps abruptly for the cloaked person was right behind him. Suddenly, liquid pours down on him and he screams out in agony as alcohol drenches his body, burning every fresh wound.

         While still unconscious in a deep sleep and utmost high, several more images flash before his closed eyes. The images appear for brief moments and move rapidly by like pages of a book or a fast forwarding movie. One-night-stands with complete strangers he’s never laid eyes upon or came in close contact with until they were in bed with him. Casual intimacies with just good friends he felt no emotional connection with as they used each others’ bodies sexually out of sheer lust to quench the loneliness. Money is thrown at his feet as he dances around the pole, taking off his clothes in a provocative, care-free manner. Tiny holes purposely puncture through the tip of a condom and eight months later an unwanted son is born to him as an attempt to keep him in a relationship. Whips playfully crack against willing backs and chains rattle on wrists pretending to struggle. Sensual touching of every area as moans, sighs, and whimpers for more never end. Screams of pleasure and pain pierce the air. Legs open wide and quiver in his grip. The mattress bounces heavily on the bed frame as it continually collides against the wall. Demands of harder, faster as the physical poundings continue ceaselessly at a rapid rate and tougher treatment. Lips upon lips caress softly and then turn into fiery passion.

         Dane collapses on his knees in exhaustion, worry, and pain. Then his head thrusts back and he starts to feel a peeling sensation as locks of his luxurious, long golden hair falls from his head. The skin everyone identified him in was yanked off his face. His chest heaved forward as his skin was being pulled. Only a few seconds later, his nipples are torn off. Instantaneously, the organs he treasured and used the most are sliced off from between his legs.

         A sharp pain pierces Dane’s mind yet again and then they were face to face. He could finally see who it was that lay beneath the heavy hooded cloak as he stands before her, a bloody, beaten, broken mess. The only beauteous thing left on him being his light blue eyes. Porcelain-like skin shows against the black folds of cloth she wore. Petite pink lips, yet naturally full and luscious, lure him to her. A small chin and defined cheekbones remain visible with the hood still covering her head. Hands of such diminutive size and slender fingers rise to pull back the hood of her cloak that was masking the rest of her features. Long black hair cascades down from her head in beautiful waves. Her bowed head slowly starts to rise as his azure eyes scrutinize her pale face, raven hair, and slim body hidden under the black hooded cloak. Then he looks up to her face again to see her dark brown eyes staring right through his.

         Dane bolts up from his bed, his chest heaving heavily and eyes wildly darting around the darkness of his room. He scrambles out from the dampened sheets and comforter and flips on the light switch. The single bulb lit the room enough so he saw the objects and furniture he mistook for something else in the darkness. He wonders how many hours he must have slept. His breathing steadies and he lies back down. Turning onto his side to face his nightstand, his eyes see what he had received earlier that day.

         An hour later, Dane lets the letter fall from his hand onto his bed. He grabs the rope that was left around the bedpost and stands on top of his bed. He tears down the insulation hanging from the ceiling he had torn apart quite some time before and ties the rope several times around one of the wooden beams that support the floor of the room above his. His hands move roughly along the rope in frustration as he tries to make a tight noose. He leaps off his bed and pulls it away from the wall. The wooden legs of the bed frame scrape across the cold, tiled floor. He climbs on the bed and takes the noose, putting it over his head and around his neck. Peering down at the letter, he briefly reminisces all that he has lived through as tears pour uncontrollably down his saddened face. Between choking breaths and sobs he finally states, “Anything that can go wrong, Dane can do it, and better yet, live through it.” He vigorously kicks the bed away, making it further from his reach and at the same time his body swings back from the force he applied to the bed. One-hundred-thirty-five some pounds of body weight is seized by the rope as the noose tightens around his neck. His thin body moves about wildly, still functioning on the modest amount of air lingering inside. Dane finally loses vigor; his limbs become motionless and stiff. The bed sheet wrapped around his waist soundlessly slips off him and gracefully falls to the floor below his limp body. His eyes remain open in a dead gaze, fixated on the letter.

Let Go

By Catharina Christiana

There’s a time in people’s lives,

When they select a path to go on,

For the rest of their lives.

When my uncle Billy,

Married Jeannette,

He crossed a line of which he would regret.

He slipped the gold diamond ring,

On his lover’s ring finger,

And stated the everlasting words of “I do”.

Never again would he come home messy and gritty,

From toiling on his vehicles, hunting,

Or just having some fun.

Now, he will be the vision of his controlling wife,

And primary caretaker of his only daughter,

Who will be the melody of his life.

When the gold diamond ring was on and the vow said,

I went to hug him for the first and probably last time,

Knowing that I had to hold onto something before I let go.

What’s his life like now, in the present?

Just as I predicted,

And all I can say is “I told ya so”.

He is a caged red cardinal, the light disappearing from his yearning eyes,

Deprived of taking a deep, extended breath of the good life, unable to fly away, and…

Let go.

Fuckface’s Three Words

By Catharina Christiana

“Love’s a fucking cock sucking bitch, ain’t it?”

I bellow belligerently

Into his uninformed ears

My voice booming infiltrations

Into his thick impenetrable skull

Questions were only answered

With an unbearable hushed silence

He falls promptly to his knees

Clasping his hands together in prayer

I tear off the cross from his neck

With my unyielding blade

Bearing my emotional inferno and wrath

I lift his head sadistically

With a violent jolt

Informing him of each of his erroneous charges

Tears hurriedly escape the corners

Of his putrid green eyes

No longer desiring to be held back

And hidden from my sight

My voice struggles for the words I have wished so long to say

His lips quiver worriedly

To muster up a desperate retort

But before his voice could function

My knife stealthily slices

Through the layers of skin and tissue

To his bloody, broken, beating heart

His fingers slowly unquenched

A small piece of paper and a ring

Revealing the three inevitable words

I never expected from someone like him

I read the scribbled words silently in my head

“Well t’ fucking hell with that, you’re dead!”

By Catharina Christiana

“Trial and inexcusable error,” says he

Insanely in love with someone that doesn’t even love me

Loss of my body’s integrity and an agonizing pregnancy

Do not even hurt as much as this heartbreak

Just lust, infatuation, and attraction are his excuses

To disregard our mistake

My Creation

By Catharina Christiana

“Patience is a virtue,” says she

But temptation, desire, and sheer willingness torment me

Can’t wait any longer for the opportune moment

Just to please and satisfy her worthless virtue

Finally our shameless bodies harmonize into one

To hopefully not give birth to her creation

For All the Right Reasons

By Catharina Christiana

This everlasting encumber

I must wear for all of eternity

Prohibited from betraying my significant other

Yet to keep my already dispersing sanity

I’ve abandoned him for a different lover

Family alliances, protection, financial stability

And happiness can’t always bolster

From this lawful and meaningless heirloom antiquity

Eyes

By Catharina Christiana

In hidden trenches and caverns underground

Where darkness crept but could never escape

I relentlessly search for a duo of jewels

I desire more than a treasure trove of all my wants and needs

No longer replacing your worth with usual cravings

Of silver or gold, onyx or pearls

Gemstones or crystals, rubies or emeralds

Only sapphires can live up to my standard of you

Once seen and almost found

I fall… deep into a crevice

Staring longingly, desiring hopelessly

That your duo sapphires will last longer than my life here on Earth

Sapphire Eyes

By Catharina Christiana

Soft dark chocolate truffles

Melt my soul into sheer meaninglessness

Succulent honey combs

Sweeten my mind into pure bitterness

Sumptuous emerald jewels

Explore my body in boundless portions

Seductive sapphire stones

Infiltrate my heart in countless pieces

Overpower me at just one longing stare

The only thing I desire

Is one last kiss

From his soft, succulent, sumptuous, seductive lips

Pure Black

By Catharina Christiana

With the reputation of being appalling and sinful

Consuming all that is chaste, honorable, and fine

Yet judge not a book by its cover

You’d be surprised how misunderstood and mislead

You really, truly are

Deep Blue

By Catharina Christiana

Bringing all that is dead, back to life

And bringing all that is not worth living, to death

Depressing it may always tend to be

But with every sort of sadness

There’s always a light

Red in Blood

By Catharina Christiana

In the heat of passion

We share a much awaited for kiss

And with only three words

My heart is more easily broken

Than my brittle, breakable bones

By Catharina Christiana

I’m like a bird

That wants, needs to break free

From all the ceaseless trouble

And emotional pain inflicted on me

Rid myself from this prolonged and unending burden

I’ll fly far far away

Not starting all over

Or erasing the unfortunate passage of time

But picking up where I left off

With a new beginning

To the end of a previous life

No longer struggling to survive

Like a bird with a broken wing

That’s desperately trying to fly away

I’ll fly far far away

And for once

For the very first time

It is I that has flown

Broken free from my home

I’m flying far far away

Live Life without Dying

By Catharina Christiana

Innocent yet guilty is my inner being

My individualism divided by a trio of diverse personas

The hatred and strong dislike confined inside

So heavily bothered by anything immoral and wrong

Fear prying restlessly at my

Mind,

Body

Soul

Temptation prodding ceaselessly to try

One shot

One hit

One drag

And then

After waiting a teenage lifetime

All turned into anticipated actions

With little or no regret

I Less Than Three You

By Catharina Christiana

They say “hearts get broken by words unspoken”

Well my heart is beyond the brink of spewing out all of its contents

Frozen shards of intimidation

Drowned ruins of recklessness and hatefulness

Decaying parts of disbelief, discontent, and disappointment

Molten slices of adolescence

Burned remains of stupidity and contemptibility

And breaking pieces of miscommunication, mistrust, and misjudgment

It’s hard spending time alone when you can’t stand yourself

I’ll be forever waiting for the other half to make me whole

Remembrance of bastard traits corrupt my mental well-being

Allegiance of best friend qualities heal my emotional wounds

Fantasizing gentleman-like characteristics of that non-existent someone

Only seen in my sleep and known in my dreams