Bad v. Evil

I used to be bad but now I am just evil.
The box on the table, it was of sin and wrongs.
Didn’t you tell me not to open it?
Well when was the last time I listened to you?
The last time I actually gave a care to what you said?
So on that day, I opened that box just to defy you. Just to make you angry.
I loved to make you angry.

Inside that box were things I never dreamed of seeing.
Things I never dreamed I would experience.
I saw power.
How I longed for power.
The power to make someone grovel at my feet, the power to make someone fear me just by my glance.
One small price to pay for all the things I ever wanted.
Open the box everyday.
What’s so hard about that?
All I have to do is open it, and all I ever wished for is mine.
I never noticed the changes.
The changes in me, my behavior, my friends.
Come to think of it I didn’t have too many friends anymore.
I still didn’t care.
I was on top of the world.

It was perfect.
I went to that box.
I went to that box everyday.
All the while you tried to warn me
But I never listened to you.

I began to feel sorry.
So sorry I ever went to that box.
So sorry I picked up that knife and ran the blade across the side of your neck.
So sorry I didn’t listen.
“Its too late” ,the box told me.
“What’s done is done”,the box drilled in my head.
I didn’t want to open the box ever again.
Never again I promised myself.
But we had an agreement. The box and I.
I couldn’t just leave the box alone.

I loved the box.
The box gave me a happiness I had never had . I would do anything for it.

Parker’s Bend.
You told me never to go there.
But you aren’t around anymore.
I do what I want .
I want to go to Parker’s Bend.

I didn’t see what I was hoping for.
I heard a voice, a whisper rather.
I was in Parker’s Bend.
Why was I here?
I wish I was home.
I couldn’t run, that shows fear, and I fear no one.

It was quiet, dead quiet.
Yet not quiet enough for me to hear the gun cock directly behind my head.
My face met the barrel of the gun.
BANG! It missed my face by .01 centimeters.
I ran. Who cares about being scared?
I just cared about living.

The box.
I knew it was bad ever since the day I opened it.
I only did it to spite you.
I threw the box to the floor and it broke into pieces with a crash.
It was finally over.
I was whole again.
Relief filled my body.
My battle was over. I walked to the sink to try and was all the sins away.
I came back and the table where the box sat was clear.


I got that box. I ran it.
I got everything and it got nothing.
I awoke that next morning with a terrible pain in my chest.
I called 911 (ha 911 what a joke).
I didn’t need these people
Why are they here?
I don’t need any help.
I’m doing just fine.

We arrive in the hospital and I hear words like “...emergency........transplant....no heart
..death...” Ha! I am not gonna die!
I see my body on the operation table.
I heard the doctors say I had no heart!
How could I have lived without no heart? .
I peered in the medical wastes bin.
I didn’t see anything fleshy or bloody.
It looked like wood.
My vision must be blurry.
A doctor comes and takes what I was eyeing out of the can.

It looks like I ran you. I had the power and you were my sucker. The box!
Don’t open it! I silently pleaded to the doctor.
He did open it, and inside was my broken, ravaged heart.
Pierced with knives and bruised and all cut up.

I used to be bad but now I am just evil.
Ever since I saw it things changed.
The box on the table, it was of sin and wrongs.
Didn’t you tell me not to open it?
Well when was the last time I listened to you?
The last time I actually gave a care to what you said?
So on that day, I opened that box just to defy you.
Just to make you angry.
Oh how I loved to make you angry.
But now I realize that my selfishness is the cause of my own shallow death.
Now I realize my naiveté is the reason I never listened.
Oh how I wish I listened.


Holla on what you think this is a about

That was amazing... At the beginning I looked at "the box" as some kind of addiction, maybe a metaphore for drugs or alcohol. Because it was like people told you not to do it but you did it anyway. The person you loved to anger I saw as God, a parental figure or a very involved relationship... (I was kinda leaning twoards the last one because you said they didn't come around anymore) And maybe the feeling of not having to be afraid, of scaring people just by looking at them was what that drug may have made you feel, but because it was taking over you lost sense of anything else (friends).... Then when you tried to stop it you had to struggle with it and it ended up leaving you feeling empty inside because you didn't have a whole lot left after that? My guess, I'm pretty sure that't not it but this was a great peice. I love the way you left the mystery and still gave us a well constructed story to read... I liked it, lookin forward to seein what it really meant, peace

Nice...

So cryptic yet so easy to see. Very nice style, abstrac at times then reverting to a simplier style. I couldn't help but feel this peice was metaphorically speaking about 'LOVE', at least in my mind I can see how it fit's. I did not think drug's or addiction, as in thunda's reply but addiction in the realm of 'LOVE', yes I could see that. I mean we all love to anger those we love, it's sadistic but it is a known fact. I guess in anger we are in touch with emotion, and today emotion is so lacking, so we divert to anger in hopes of purging that emotion. Either way, good drop, but we would love to hear your interpitation. Peace...

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FUCKA BABYLON BANDIT!!!

YO guys thanx fo the info

I real dont break down my stuff

i let others come up with there own theory of it

UPPN FO A LIL MORE FEEDBACK

Yo sounds like you got the computer (or tv) bad ma'mans...(chuckles)

joke

naw....I felt you though on the throwing it on the flow and being free

I thought this took not only a lot of skill but courage...

You gots to look deep in ya'self to come up with this...

I'ma check for some of yo other stuffs too

Out

oh yea I totally relate (4realz)

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Rev 12:11 - Use your voice...