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Since the Dexter series began in 2006, I was fascinated with the “Dark Passenger” concept and I wrote my own poem to reflect the battles I’ve had with my own “Dark Passenger”. Albeit without the murderous tendencies of Dexter in the actual series. I hope you all enjoy.

EDIT: In order to give credit when credit is due, I must also commend GlassJaw (Band) for inspiring me to write about my “Dark Passenger” in this light. If you listen to some of their music; you will see what I mean. 🙂

I’m dead you’re fed get out of my head!
How did you even get in?!
I was fine before you
Now I can never go back

You took the first shot
Injected your poison with urgency
My limbs they seize
Lips speaking of sin
Dark passenger resurrection 

(I was fine, now I pine my time)
(pine it away with a quick line)
(Take my tequilla with no lime)
(This time is mine to pine)
(for whatever time is left of mine)

This ghost I thought was dead
Waits to claim a bounty on my head
Hoofing and snarling
demands to take the reigns
This dark passenger
Returns in your name

Dont you see what you have done?!
You sing the song unsung
Now my soul is taken by another
A soul much darker than your mothers
It laughs at my attempts to pursuade
I try as my memories fade
trapped with one way out
It begs me to never doubt
“This is for the best”
“please take your last breath”
Do you hear Its words?!
“This is for the best!”
The fear it grows
“Take your last breath!”
of dying alone
“It was for the best”
Now my head is laid to rest…

Years have gone by since I needed so bad to let go

My thoughts racing as I drive my ass home

I cant believe its been another night with you blown

I try to turn to my words while being confused by your own

(still cant get this shit straight)

I turned to the one thing always on my side (a puff then a rip… OH ease my mind)

Not much else to do when you are immune to my charm

And getting close to you is like leaping the great wall

An impossible feat; at least I’d give it my all

Yet here I am with my tail between my legs, cutting my losses and limping home

(feeling the need to be so numb, so gone, so blown)

Oh what a beautiful night with a shooting star so bright.

Only to find your face plaguing my mind

I suppose a wish would still make this moment right

A first chance? A second chance? Or to not give a shit anymore?

Option three is tempting, but I’ll wish for a fourth

This star came as a surprise, the same way you came into my life

And every time you come back, you leave without a goodbye

But do you ever think about your actions?

Or the consequences that will ensue?

I do every night when my thoughts find their way to you

But do your thing and push them away, that’s your chosen way

(Take a puff, mind at ease. why does thinking of you make me crazy?!)

 

 

I miss:
Your smile
Your eyes
Your hair
Your sense of humor
Your laugh
Your pouty face
Your epic rap skills
Your voice
Your appetite for chocolate cake
Your music
The look you get when you are thinking
The way I feel around you
Watching cartoons with you
Driving you to work
Having coffee with you
Taking you to the movies
Laughing at the same parts
You pointing out pretty women in starbucks
Even though I had the prettiest one sitting in front of me.

 

Am I a fool to dream of normality? Do I wake up every day lurking toward formalities?  Just to say what I  never mean; the dean of all things screened. This thing wrings dry dreams. As long as you scream they tear at your seams until the cries die and the tempest collides…  Leaving a war torn path forcing cads to a toaster-bath, aside their suit and stash, powdered nose; I can’t, Let the passenger inside take the lantern in stride or face judgment in HIS eyes; a coward’s demise.

 

The demon stowed amidst angel wings,

Flaunts an unaffected gait, treading o’er embers of her kings.

Her smile, a fallacy of warmth. Her kiss, a hollow oath.

Though she speaks of a sage, a martyrdom she sculpts;

Feigning love and desire, yet in her own heart, never raged a fire.

Always of lust, never of love.  Passion for, “None of the above”.

None grand as the blaze which I’ve stoked to life in my own.

And none grand as the infernos doused by her rein of preconceived notions…

SHE  is a temptress with an angelic guise; the inevitable fall from emerald eyes.

Is there no end to the guilt that I feel?

Do I blame myself for another’s yield?

If light means life then I must concede;

the darkness has found me, it refuses to leave.

It smears carbon black over eyes pearl white.

Concealing the pleasure, enforcing the blight.

The agony is a bore, life becomes a chore;

when all that I can fathom is the day you’d run me ragged.