The Mind of "M" by M.J. Garrett (good story books to read .txt) 📕

/> I lay awake at night hoping to hear your voice
Walks through the park without you should have never been a choice
It feels so alone, in this world of smiling faces
This life of scattered hatred, and lives never taken

I wish that I could be the one who went away
To see the face of god while he turns his back again
You were always so strong. You made life seem so good
Your smile said so much, and your eyes did what they could.

I'm so sorry….
I never meant to be….
I just never meant to be….
I should have never been….


Nothing to remember.

His breath was heavy and his heart pounded with fear and adrenaline. How did he get to this point in his life? He leaned against the bathroom wall and slid down until he rested on the back of his calves. His light blue button down shirt was freshly ironed and he rolled up his sleeves to rest just below his elbows as he did with every shirt of that style. He wore freshly dry-cleaned black slacks and shiny slip on loafers. His hair was fixed perfectly the way he wanted it, short on the sides and back but long enough to sport a messed up look on top. His breath had the smell of alcohol but his mind was still sharp. He wondered why he was here. What purpose could he serve by staying? What purpose could he serve by leaving? As his eyes darted back and forth, he retraced every step of his life trying desperately to figure out what turn to regret. Tears filled his eyes but kept from running down his face until he squeezed his eyes closed in frustration. His nose began to run as he struggled to find his breath. Is this the way it's supposed to be? He quickly looked up to the heavens with hopes of a sign, but to no avail there was no sign. There was nothing. Silence filled the room where hope once sponsored the thought of fairytales. But today, those fairytales were what they were supposed to be. With that thought he squeezed the very life out of that pistol. He slowly slumped to his right until his bloody lifeless face rested on the floor. His thick crimson blood painted the wall and ceiling. No notes to read. No story to tell. It just ended….with nothing to remember.


Spy vs. Spy

I love the way you dance while you're washing the dishes

The way you used the spoon as a mic and lip sing to all the classics

I love the way you eat ice cream while watching sad movies

The way you laugh out loud to Jim Carey and appreciate his humor

I love the way you water the plants that surround the back porch

You wear those old jogging pants with that Old Navy shirt

I love the way you drive like your late all the time

The way you go to work at noon, but your back by nine

I love the way you shower…your singing is perfect

The way dry off, it makes me feel like I don't deserve it

I love the way you sleep with just your panties and a T-shirt

They way you talk in your sleep and moan like your mouth hurts

I love the way you don't know that I've been watching…

Form the house across the street while your husbands been workin'


Reverse Psychology

Laying in the grass with blood and glass in my face
I fly up and through the windshield as it fixes itself
Reversing from the tree my eyes unclinch
I land on the road as I reverse through the ditch
I sit in the seat behind the wheel with my eyes wide open
I grip the wheel but relax as I pull the smoke in
My bottle is empty but it's filling up fast
Tears roll up my face into my eyes as I yell "bastard!"
The cigarette flies back to my hand as I put it in my lips
The ash grows smaller until the cigarette is new again
My eyes are blood shot but they are growing whiter
The phone goes to my ear while the voice is a fighter
"On move to have I…call don't, over it's"
My fist relax as my teeth stop their grit
The phone rings and I know it's my girl calling me
The windows are down another day of enjoyment
I reverse into the gas station as the tank goes empty
Ten dollars down to zero as I put the card into my wallet
I reverse home and walk backwards to the door and unlock it
Take off my shoes and empty my pockets
Sit down on the couch and the TV comes on
The score lowers as I root for my team back home
"bones my in it feel can I, day good a Today's"


My face in the mirror?

I could build you a city and it wouldn't be big enough
I could throw you a line and it wouldn't be long enough
I could carry you on my shoulders but I wouldn't be strong enough
I could sing you a song and it wouldn't be loud enough
I could paint you a picture and it wouldn't be pretty enough
I could walk on water and it wouldn't be good enough
I try so hard to be what you want
I can't fight your demons when it's me that haunts
I know the implications seem to point fingers
I single myself out, knowing that it's me that had failed you
I have become what most consider the darker part of humanity
I dream dreams that tell futures and I never prayed for this!
What most consider ugly, I find the beauty with in
Death has its perks, if you are mad enough to win
Secrets have their advantage if you are evil enough to use'm
Did you forget that I had you by throat and didn't choke you?
I need to remember who did who wrong
I need to decide which path to go on
I need your help to put away the pill
To know what it means to be a man of will
So mister man in the mirror, you need to remember
It's my face that you carry but it's your will that they believe in


3rd Eye.

I laid there in bed with my daughter's head resting on my arm. Her hair softly touches my face and her hand tightly holds on to my thumb. In her sleep, she stretches and pushes her small legs between my knees, using my leg as a makeshift blanket. She turns her head toward my face and pushes her forehead against my cheek, allowing her breath to warm my neck. She often giggles quietly, letting me know that the thoughts running through her head are that of a good nature.

I've drifted off to sleep, but the noise of the rain has kept my attention. With my heartbeat ringing in my ear, I can hear the sound of the floor and the shifting of weight at the foot of my bed. I open my eyes without moving a muscle. I look out the corner of my eye and see the shadow of the person who is slowly walking in the room. I lift my head to welcome her, but there is no one there to welcome.

As my head slowly made its way back to the pillow, my heartbeat has increased quite a bit. A chill covered my forehead and the room once again felt like it was being occupied by someone other than me and my daughter. My foot felt the cool air from the ceiling fan as the blanket felt like it was being lifted from my feet. My daughter pulled her feet up close to her, as if she also felt the cool of the fan. My heart as begun to beat faster, for now I'm sure there is someone in the room. I sit up fast, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone, but there was nothing. The covers were left untouched and my feet were still tucked beneath the blanket.

Someone or something is here. I pulled my daughter closer to me hoping that her innocence would grant me grace of some sort. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping that the rain would drowned out any noise that could be made. I felt a hand touch the corner of the bed by my foot. As the floor creaked, I could feel the hand softly drag itself along the edge of the mattress. Coming closer to my head, my heart began to pound faster and faster. I clinch my eyes closed as I felt the breath of my daughter stop. I open my eyes to look at my daughter and I see her looking out the corner of her eye, at something or someone standing behind me looking over at her. I see a small smile on my daughters face as she slowly closes her eyes once again. I turn to see what my daughter seemed to be interested in and I see nothing.

Her breath, once again, warmed my neck as she stretched out. She pushes her feet toward the end of the bed and softly giggles. Then I hear her whisper, "Daddy? She's gone." She turns toward me, and wraps her small arms around me. "Goodnight, Daddy."


Masochist

What do you want from me? I told you I would stay.

I'd be here if you needed me, no change from yesterday.

The wire tears my wrist as I try to get away.

Sweat burns my eyes, and my teeth grit from the pain.

My head hangs in agony as she circles me and smiles.

She puts that rusted knife blade just beneath my eye.

She moves in to kiss me but stops an inch away

Stares and me and smiles, and begins to lick my face.

She bites my lip then softly whispers in my ear.

"You've trusted me so long, I don't appreciate the fear."

She puts the handle in my mouth so I don't bite myself.

Takes her nails down my chest and she loosens up my belt.

She looks into my eyes as she drops to her knees.

She reaches out to touch me; I close my eyes and grit my teeth.

"Don't get excited, it's not what you think"

She tightens the wire around my ankles, until I start bleed.

My body trembles as my eyes roll back into my head

I felt the severed flesh release the blood, as chills ran up my legs.

I hold my breath hoping that this will ease the pain.

As I release the air I'm holding spit runs down my face.

Screaming for relief, I begged for her to stop

She giggles so sweetly, then she begins to mock

She locks her fingers in my hair as she licks the blood from my chest.

She takes the knife from my mouth and carves the word
Masochist

Silent from the shock my legs begin to give

The