Money Maker

Money Maker

By Elissa Rosenthal

Money please,

My dear friend,

I will drain you,

Till the end.

Lick up my lies,

Of solitary waste,

Let you feel alone,

A waste of space.

Pick up my money,

My money maker of wishes,

Hopes to have food,

Hopes to have dishes.

Feel the fear of loss,

Truth has a clear ring,

My money clogs your vision,

To feel its poison sting.

Pick up my money,

Drop all your hope,

Hold my money in your hands,

While you go on and gloat.

To: Chester Bennington

To: Chester Bennington 

By Elissa Rosenthal

When I was hidden within my own darkness,

you pulled me out.

I am sorry someone could not do the same for you.

When I was weak,

you helped me gain strength. 

I am sorry you found strength in a rope.

I hope you have found the peace you wished to find.

I am sorry it had to be this way.

I loved and still love your music,

though it is the older stuff.

Though it does not mean much,

possibly just some fluff.

You will be missed Chester,

you will be.

That so much is true.

I am sorry you found strength in a rope.

I am sorry I never got to see you.

From an old fan.

Love

Love

By Elissa Rosenthal

Stillness is lead by scared little whispers,

Wishing for the breath to hold their caring.

Carefully treading through the thoughts of love,

Life at their fingertips still unknowing.

Unimportance claims the thoughts of the weak, 

Crystallizing their fears of being one.

Old thoughts of harsh reality floods mind,

Keep the whispers safe and keep whispers kind.

Love of ones' self creates love is ones' mind.

Emotions

Emotions

By: Elissa Rosenthal

Fiery fills all I know and all I am.

Harsh words fill my mind with deep night regrets.

Feel my passion, 

hate, 

and fear,

 through my words.

Feel my passion 

want,

and fear,

through my actions.

I scream among the stars as my eyes close in fitful slumber.

I weep in my dreams,

remembering the harsh memories of the day.

Two minds,

two different expressions of emotion.

I tell you I hate you for the same reasons I hate myself.

I give the actions I wish someone would do for me.

Read between the lines.

Think through the actions,

and the speech.

We are human.

Emotions were taught to be in the background,

silenced,

twisted,

stretched.

Do not weep but yell.

Do not yell but weep.

Childhood emotional training nonexistent.

Why do people not see?

I yell because that was the only way they would listen.

I cry because then they would hear.

Simple explanations never taught.

Understanding never understood. 

Feel my passion,

hate, 

and fear,

through my words.

I beg.

Feel my passion,

want,

and fear,

through my actions.

I pray.

Sparkling Nothingness

Sparkling Nothingness

By Elissa Rosenthal

Complacent populations stand around a fire made of sparkling nothingness.

They claim a need for beauty that presents no emotion.

They conceal wonder created by the unknown.

Contorting their natural instincts, 

they flail themselves and others,

in search for meaning.

Cannibalistic,

conquests,

of mind and body.

Stair into the crystallized nothingness.

Let the corruption seep into your veins.

Contort your natural instincts and flail.

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