Psychotic Ramblings They wanted a story Tabloid worthy A story to put all to shame They wanted a story To learn

my life Well now theyre playing my game All stories begin As all of them end And this story starts October the third, 2009 Midnight Pitch dark A match strikes A light lights A muffled whimper sounds I look down A grin on my face There she lies Gagged and bound Poor little girl So young and nave Came to me So willingly I walked down the street Calmly Almost normally So it would seem Except for one thing I was on a mission I was seeking demise It started a few years ago

I was 18 19 perhaps My memory lapses Started with a lover Who wanted my love no longer I was scorned I was burned I was despised Ostracized I plotted I planned Everyday waiting For her life to end Marie Monroe My life you stole But thats okay My love, my hope Youll soon be bound With my rope Gagged and broken Bit by bit My time paid off As my effort did For one day past I saw her I did Strolling with another man Wont be long before shes alone Patiently I waited In the shadows of night Followed her every step To the exact moment Dinner passed

In a flurry of kisses Misses Wishes Dishes And soon it was time For sweet Marie To have her man walk her Back to her home All was nice Till I came by After her toy left She was surprised Told me to leave her side She was done Had no more time If only she knew Just how right I held her hand Before she could deny Brought her in for a kiss And a knife came up to her lips Silent surprise Filled her eyes Shhh, I whisper Lets go on inside Calmly she strode Knife at her throat On through her door Soon shell be no more I close it behind us My eyes never off her She laughs and she shrugs Are you on some sort of drugs?

This is all crazy I know I havent seen you lately But things are through Whats up with you? I return the gesture Much like a jester Cant you see my dear? You were my love, my life, my fear. I say it plainly as day But her face betrays No understanding has been made She turns around Heads to her room Says Leave me now And I wont call them. Them? I ask Who could you mean? The police? They wont do a thing. Then I explain As I follow her The lines have been cut And where is her purse Theres no escape My plan has no flaw You will die here Tonight or not at all I move in closer Her breath comes in gasps Shes always been helpless Ive always known that Im right in her face Knife gripped in hand

She starts to back up Trips over the stand Preparing to scream I follow her down And cover her mouth I look into her eyes That once held an insatiable love Now only fear is present And maybe a tinge of lust I know Im crazed Out of my mind But my actions you see Are mine I want this to happen Her blood on my hands Nothing would make me happier Than a cut in her skin Put there by me Her lover gone mad She struggles and writhes Under my body Trying to free herself From the strain Ive put on her Knife in my free hand I pull it up And bring down the hilt Hit the temple on her head A muffled cry of pain comes out Tears start to stream She knows what is coming She sees my glee I grab her up off the floor Along with my self

Drag her though her house To the bed Ive known so well Its quite pitiful really How quickly she went limp Following my every word In the hopes of some reprieve I wont go into detail now For the actions that went on Are for my eyes and ears alone I will tell you how ever That by the time I was done Multiple lacerations covered her No hope to heal Scarred forever Bloodied neck Two lines down her cheek One in the back of her head Her wrists were last For an almost traditional stance A slash here and there No place left uncovered Her body was red With sticky, sickly, sweet blood Who could deny the fun? Her whimpers were few Moans of pain a plenty Sounds Ill never forget That will replay every night in my mind My clothes were bloodied as well So I walked into her bathroom Across from the hall Undressed and showered Quickly and yet still slow

Cleansed my body Sharpened my mind As I finished I stepped out Grabbed a towel Off the rack Wrapped it around me And went to her closet A spare change of clothes Dressed and I was ready to go I walked though the rooms To her front door Knife left behind I dont care if they know I opened and closed the door as I left Headed back to my house Plotting for the next Victim to be Because surprisingly The slaughter committed Was pleasurable No use denying it So here I am now Before you And youre my next victim to be Did you think that after such a confession Youd be allowed to walk free? No, come closer It wont hurt a bit You wanted a story Well your wish came true The only thing is You wont live to tell The tale of my psychotic rambling

The human experience is made up of a type of duality, a binary relationship where two opposing forces give meaning to one another. The best way to understand this is to think about light and darkness, it is the existence of light that allows and necessitates the existence of darkness. We can only define the darkness by lack of light and we can only define the light by that which the darkness lacks. Human life has these type of relations between many different elements that give meaning to our life, life and death, happiness and sadness, love and hatred. This anthology is focused on the binary relationship of the latter, love and hatred. Love is the intense positive feelings towards another individual or thing, hatred is the intense negative feelings towards another individual or thing. The relationship between the two is interesting and within this anthology you will see how they both can exist, how one can even create the other. The poem Psychotic Ramblings by Ashara Slagger is a key element in the anthology, it has been it has been cut and split up in between poems as each of the poems are t help explain, expand and help with the story expressed through Psychotic Ramblings. This poem follows a man as he goes from being in love to the depths of hatred and insanity, the way he is pushed too kill the women who he once considered the love of his life. While the poem may have a darker theme the anthology starts off much like the narrator, light and full of hope, it is only as you go farther down the rabbit hole that you end up seeing the darkness within this means soul. It is my belief that while Psychotic Ramblings was not intended to be presented in the following manner, and the authors of the various poems utilized did not know that there works would be used in the weaving of this narrative, that the story presented helps one understand both sides of the narrators emotional states; the love and the hatred.

The first set of poems are used to help set the scene, create the relationship between the narrator and the named love interest of Marie Monroe. Each poem creates the impression of love and affection, however each one also has tiny hints as to either the insanity within the narrator or the way in which the relationship is going to end. The first poem, while simple and short, can be interpreted to mean more than just loving affection but also obsession. This concept is carried over in the second poem Teardrops which talks about both obsessive thoughts and the idea that he had been watching her from afar. In the third poem you have the concept that the relationship is built on lies or deceit in some way, this thought or idea hints at the future of their relationship. The final two poems within this opening section dont carry with them as much the sullen theme buried in the others and are more focused on the passion of love, I believe these two poems complement each other very well since Carnal Apple, Woman Filled, Burning Moon is about the passion and heat of love while Windchime is more about the morning after. The next section of poetry explains The feelings of hatred that the narrator feels and the way in which they developed, within this section you will notice a general build up towards the higher levels of madness, it starts off with the wish that she hadnt left. The idea that he still loves her is prevalent in the first couple of poems but quickly turns into the hatred best expressed by the final poem within this section appropriately titled Pure Hatred. The third section of the Anthology is centered on the theme of madness and revenge. The first poem of the section, Solitude is addicting sets up a good sense of madness, of the churning thoughts and endless screaming inside ones own mind. This poem is followed up by William Blakes famous A Poison Tree which tells a lot more the tale of revenge, however the idea of a tree of wrath growing and bearing poisonous fruit is very fitting for this section since it is the product of the narrators anger and hatred which drives him to seek revenge. The final two poems

in this section both deal with the idea of hatred and wanting revenge, the final poem Judgement Day is more about ones anger towards her father but I think the general theme and idea expressed in it makes it more than a fitting addition to this section. After the opening to the fourth section you understand fully what the narrator has done with the women he has loved, now the question is how does he respond to the actions he has taken, what feelings or thoughts pull at him. I believe the next three poems delve into the idea of feeling evil, feeling that what you have done is bad but at the same time they all show the same amount willingness to except it that the narrator does. The final section is just the ending to Psychotic Ramblings as I had ordered it, in the back of the anthology you will find a copy of the original poem before I split it up and inserted it where I felt best. Overall, the major theme of this anthology is the duality of love and hatred, the way in which a beautiful thing can turn into an unspeakable nightmare. Each of us can connect with one section or another of this anthology, regardless of if it is the love or the hatred. This connection allows us to better understand those sections we might not have a personal understanding of, but just like by the light defining the darkness, love and hate define each other.

Before N After By Ayla Melinda Souza When we first met, The way you smiled, Made me feel set, Made me go wild. You made me feel alive, Your sweet smile, You made me happy, With just one touch. You were all I ever wanted, You were everything to me, But now you're gone, Ive set you free.

Love Armed By APHRA BEHN Song from Abdelazar

Love in Fantastic Triumph sat, Whilst Bleeding Hearts around him flowed, For whom Fresh pains he did Create, And strange Tyrannic power he showed; From thy Bright Eyes he took his fire, Which round about, in sport he hurled; But twas from mine he took desire Enough to undo the Amorous World.

From me he took his sighs and tears, From thee his Pride and Cruelty; From me his Languishments and Fears, And every Killing Dart from thee; Thus thou and I, the God have armed, And set him up a Deity; But my poor Heart alone is harmed, Whilst thine the Victor is, and free.

A Clouded Light
An anthology Compiled by Corbin Bates