Demons fighting over my lost memories,...
Denied many loves of the eye...
...and the pain still haunts,
Jaded, scarred, cursed,
Call it what you want.
Where did I go?
The questions I once screamed now have answers,
But I can't hear a thing.
Forgot how to breathe,
Forgot how to feel,
Forgot how to sing.
If you find me, let me go,
I have escaped from comfortable chaos.
I have fallen into the pit amongst the flames of second guessing.
Her long black hair smelled like cigarettes and shampoo.
Looking at her for the first time...
It appeared as if she'd washed herself with me,
Dripped in me,
Dipped in life,
Drenched with wisdom.
Her pain harnessed,
And her sickness appreciated by few,
"She's fine, she's the one you run to."
Intimidation not needed with her tattoos, slight grin, perfect lips, and thick eyebrows.
Hypnotized by the moment... I stared,
..thinking to myself..."please walk by me again and i will whisper into your ear..." "I am him..."
..."I am him..."
And she'll know what I mean and she'll say, "walk with me..."
I'll run my tongue across her jawline,
With her eyes closed, she'll breathe in through her nose... taking it all in.
With her wrists pinned to the wall... tears fall from her eyes,
The moment is too much, I release her wrists and we embrace.
Floating on purple clouds, our eyes are closed and we thank fate...
The Last Time
One last stare,
One last hug,
One Last kiss,
One last "I love you,"
Then I turned and walked out the door.
Stopped in the driveway and looked to the nights sky and asked, "what is this all for?"
Why must there be a distance?
Why is hesitation met with a humble persistence?
I looked back down and walked to my car,
I drove home slowly to take it all in,
I relived the past two days all over again.
There's a difference in "true love" and "truth in love."
There's truth in my love,
There's a lump in my throat.
I hold back these tears,
Now I begin to choke.
I can't take the sadness,
I miss her so much.
How can someone I feel this way about, be so hard to touch?
A million "I love you's,"
And one goodbye.
I held it back in front of her,
But now I cry...
Tears roll down and take their place,
Face wet with emotion,
But no expression on this face.
I miss you.
I love you.
... I want you,
Where's my mind...?
The sounds that I hear have a background noise,
A voice that speaks, but is too distant to understand.
So I dream,
Hoping that the noise manifests itself into a message...
... into a meaning,
... into the answers.
I awoke on a park bench and people were talking, children playing...
I saw my car and I walked to it.
Salt started to pour down from the sky,
Large grains of salt... half the size of a marble.
I walked with wounds covered.
I could hear the people behind scream!
Parents running in pain and screaming for their children!
The children played and laughed... and the parents fell over... unconscious from the
I opened my car door and salt poured from the floor.
Buildings that were brown were now white,
Grass that was green was now white,
Wounds that were open, were now healed...
...Except for those who couldn't take the pain,
...they were killed.
In the Secrets
The things that I keep from you,
The thoughts that I conjure when I am alone,
Voices that plague this fragile being,
All things that I can't share for the frightening feeling that you may put me away.
Cast me off into the abyss.
I can show you how a man goes crazy,
How a sane boy becomes a threat to the world and what's to be told.
Twitching and unsure about the next seconds coming,
I try and smile as I am becoming.
I stay in the shadows and smile at the passersby,
No waiving, just nodding politely.
Now I whisper,
Into the ears of the willing,
"Do you remember your younger days... and the times of the thrilling?"
I come to you with promises of the opposite of ignorance.
Trust in me and I will take you away,
Away from what's got you troubled,
Where the pain subsides,
The horror hides,
And the solitude is doubled.
Red Light Haunts
Lost in a dark house,
The only light is red,
Shadows light your way.
The hardwood floors are so old, they are close to splintering,
You walk carefully with your young, small feet.
In your socks sliding on the dust so that the floor doesn't squeak,
You don't want to wake the sleeping beasts mind,
Because it's the same thing every time.
So you stay huddled in a hallway coat closet,
Peaking out into the red light to see down the shadow ridden hallway,
The smell of mothballs fills your nose,
It's just another breath of relief to you,
As the beast heads to bed...
... and doesn't notice you.
She's not real...
But it's a damn good dream.
Her blood bleeds black,
And she's everything she seems.
The smiling vamp of my sleep,
The crawling chill.
Where does she go when she doesn't return home?
What does she feed upon?
I stand up illuminated amongst the bowed crowed...
With the ground darkened by the cloaked submissive, she blinks slow and beckons me,
I'm frozen in a willingness to give in, she traces the outline of my lips with the tip of her tongue and whispers... "are you ready..."
I remove my shirt, show my wrists, and smile,
Self-biting bottoms lips, we stare at each other in desperate hunger...
The price of our patience is panted breathing
Rewarded in 3... 2... 1
Inside out we crawl in and zip it up.
2 souls, 1 skin.
Numbness must be bliss,
So why don't you lie on this cold table and let me open this chest.
With a magnified right eye,
I make an incision with my laser beam light.
Before I investigate... let me look into your eyes.
Oh are you mystified?
Wondering why I can feel your insides?
Let me assure you... you don't need this shit anyway,
Your heart is selfish,
Beating for no one... on any day.
With my hand around your throat, you look so scared...
"Awe... you use to like this... what happened? Hello? Are you in there?"
“Are those tears rolling down your cheeks and dripping on my steel table?”
“No no... it's not a problem... it's just that you're feeling emotion and I didn't know that you were able.”
I reach inside your chest and squeeze one of your lungs...
Your mouth under my nose...
My eyes closed...
I remember your soft pants of passion.
Your lips are swollen by instinct and they feel as they always have...
I run my tongue along the redness,
"Do you remember the times we had...?"
You can't answer for shock.
You can't even apologize...
..ha.. like I would even give a fuck.
You try and say something...
"Sorry I don't speak your language"
"...maybe God will save us..."
I squat at the end of the table and take the view of your toes,
I rise up with a surgical mask and a hidden smile on my face.
I open your chest and remove a few things.
I remove your heart because you won't be needing it...
Now you are no longer a walking contradiction,
No longer my affliction.
“Let me sew you up...”
“I promise that I will sew you straight.”
“Oh wait.. did you want staples?”
Staples for your chest,
Rusty wire for your lips...
... nothing surgical about that,
I'm just enjoying this.
I love like love has a knew meaning,
But when love is found, I have nothing to give.
The strength of this emotion is one that cannot be kept in,
It pours out of tear ducts... it pours out with sweat that rains.
The adored is a perfect muse... until my love is returned.
I am easily mistaken as an abuser of the fallen,
But the truth in beauty is my drug.
"Do not return my affection,"
Just live genuinely in my site.
Verbally fornicating with the scarred, is far more inspirational than the physical with
Subtle expressions of worshiping lust, is needed from my muse,
Just the simple, subconscious undertones of what is the truth of love...
An honest, faithful love never to be spoken...
Only known and admired.
She Gets Tired
A fragile soul is no fault of her own,
A peacefulness discovered and contentment forced.
She walks around oblivious to her own scars,
Her sickness has drowned memories that should torment consciously.
The pain lies in the bottom of her heart.... the back of her mind.
So close to broken and every reason to be,
But the fact that she's stayed strong this long is no surprise to me.
Wounds must be healed or they will fester in the scorching sun of tomorrow.
Her hands soft,
Her heart heavy,
She is there for others to heal a pain that she chases.
Feet that are splintered,
She's walked through life with a vulnerability unmatched.
Willingly tapped out, she yearns for an escape,
Looking for a father in every man she meets,
Sharing and looking for someone who will care,
But this worlds lent ear is perverted and one track minded.
Feeling trapped she can't change for fear,
Though she wants nothing more.
My eyes turned from blue to black today,
The mission now clear.
Just reaction to circumstances of knowing.
The endeavors of artistry have a voice.
They told me things,
They asked me questions.
They told me that the answers I am looking for do await me.
I will sell what's left of me to the torment that I've known,
... I think of it so.
And thinking slower.
I slowly touch the canvas that begs the lyrical concept of my sickness.
Smelling the moment,
This is what I will remember after my mind goes blank.
I won't remember this awakening,
...no man should.
The Sick Loved
Everything you live for,
Everything in site.
Her lips painted black,
Her eyeshadow smeared out,
Her tattoo of a vine that wrapped her tight from her shoulder to her wrist.
"Sweet death metal" was the scent that she left behind,
You could see that she was there for the escape... not the atmosphere.
When she looked up from her glass... standing in the corner,
I was there looking back.
Time stood still,
And we both knew that pigs were flying and we could die peacefully.
We went home, cut ourselves, and shared in the tastes,
Not a drop on the floor... nothing to waste.
The unattainable was reached,
The unloved were loving.
Hypnotize me like the music that relates,
Like the lead-singers eyes when she sings “Scrape.”
I will take the potion of one relived, re-birthed, reborn...
...of one once known.
Her hair will smell of grass, smoke, or sweat.
The saint of my psychosis,
A ghost for the life they see.
Her demonic whispers,
A mothers bosom.
She washes away the insecurities of my day,
Her long tongue cleans the spine slowly as I lay.
I never speak,
Invisible centrifuge of us.
She glued her long, black fingernails to the top of my right shoulder,
A tangible touch until the sanity fades.
Paint the canvas with dark intention,
Bathe in a bush of roses, thorns and all...
For blood is the color of release,
A buried need for recognition.
The days of therapy still sit in the sunlight.
Fornicate in the madness of the world,
But breathe in the day.
In the Chaos
"Perspective," they say,
A blanket that they traded in for a portion of sanity.
Stripping my mind down and baring my breathing to the summers day,
With eyes closed, "I swear that time slows..."
All the pretty faces dance in the night,
But beauty sways...
...yes beauty sways.
Her name is the breeze that blows my way today and the chills say hello to my spine,
It is no pedestal,
It is a breeze.
Am I deep in this moment,
Or am I on a simple surface of appreciation?
Let us close our eyes...
My arms wrapped around you from behind,
We will sway in a time of slow motion.
The raindrops circle us under the moonlight, but do not touch,
The puddles at our bare feet fill with blue, electrical current.
Sparks pop and streetlights burst into orange balls of the 4th of July.
It is only our world as I turn you toward me and our lips touch,
Our lips meet, not as just a kiss, but as something that this moment defines as something that we were born to experience.
We found our moment....
..we found each other in the chaos of our separate worlds.
My youth stopped fleeting the last time i died,
Pain left my body the last time i cried.
My life is my life is what i have realized,
The illusion of aging and all of its lies.
Black on black and the blood is midnight,
When the vein splits slowly and you hear the pop of the blue, then the rip.
She is the air they breathe,
She is the vamp of their temporary blindness.
Tell me what they see;
A slow slither and feel a heart beat that is not their own.
...with their x’d out eyes and confused bottom jaws.
They woke up to quiet ash falling from the sky,
Nature silent and all but gone.
A constant and quiet hushing was the ambient whisper,
The plagues have long been breathing and have taken what is theirs.
The contentment of a people in a chaotic normality, shows in the slow walk out of their front doors and in their slow blinking and expressionless faces.
I am my fears,
I am the ghosts.
The creeper in the night.
I am the shadows that stir,
I am not the frightened.
The sounds that are near,
I am the approval,
The curious end.
I am what I should fear,
What should make me cautious & tremble,
The dusty & quiet attic that stares blankly into your mind.
Deep in the silent woods at sundown,
Escape me before the light is gone.
This slow & chilled basement with it’s hollowed whisper,
And so I listen...
to my approach,
to my whisper.
I write so that i do not kill,
I wake up swimming in emptiness,
I wake up to stare at the pill.
The lines of clarity are gone,
Line of sanity blurred.
What is real, is what is fake,
Things of yesterday never occurred.
Emotion disguised as depth.
Biding time and watching eyelids.
Waking to take something from this place.
Please write, do not do as I did.