I saw the darkness long before I saw her.
It was reveling.
Some dark and untasteful yet lovely.
I never wanted anyone more in that sleepy second.
I became ephemeral.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 2:19 AM UTC
i am the western culture,
i am misunderstood
cos i am different.
i am the irony of century-old tradition.
i am an alien
the one that gets to be looked at twice
i have become their fears
i am the stranger
i am the western culture
i must be misunderstood.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 6:12 AM UTC
i wept for the moping owl
that had blood dripping form her eyes
then at midnight she’ll always cry
“your demons are out why don’t you follow suit”
I’ve always known this night-bird
for the darkness she and i shared
my shows had also known her
together darkness was our only scar
i loved the dark scribbling of poe
that demons may come and demons may go
on the illusive road of Eldorado
like blood melted in December’s snow
no one is ever there you see
behind the garment of your lovely fear
whatever you think is whatever will be
Goodbye Owl, for dawn is near.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 6:09 AM UTC
there's a part of me that stays hidden.
the true me.
i hide it from her. for her sake.
if she knows, i fear i might lose her.
id rather appear predictable to her.
i'd rather be boring to her.
there's a type of darkness that lurks within me.
if she saw it saw
she'll crave for it.
she'll be tempted to take it out of me.
she'll be forced to change me.
and she'll lose me, and i, her.
i don't think she's ready yet.
i don't think my virus is all in her yet.
she has to be too far gone to know who i am.
after all, love is all about losing oneself to another.
she makes me vulnerable to everything.
but i don't think she's ready for my kind of love
for my kind of love is exhausting, it ***** everything up like a vacuum cleaner.
it's like a disaster, and earthquake rather.
my kind of love is rare. it's pure, and it's deadly.
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
i let her **** me.
slowly at first.
i felt the life leaking out of me into the thirsty ground.
it was painless.
she killed me so well i wanted her to do it again.
i ask myself
how did i get here?
how did i make her my self control?
the question are useless now.
i'm trickling to my last bit.
i've tasted the euphoria of death.
i have taken death by surprise.
she is not the murderer.
i am.
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 7:55 PM UTC
"maybe the world was afterall a faulted whisper at the edge of nothing..
maybe the world and the realities in it are made up off numbers.
maybe the world is an illusion hoisted firmly in the mind of humans..
maybe the world is a container of mortality; that somewhere out there there is another container of immortality.
was the world born out of desperation?
was the need to exist so immense?
are we really existing.."
these questions floated around his weary mind as he sat in his study with a pen in his trembling and a voice in in mad head..
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 7:42 PM UTC
i overthink about her most times.
i wander about noisily in my room during the dark hours of night.
she’s both the addiction and the cure
the therapy and death.
i can’t help myself.
the lack of control is strangely appealing to me.
i can only wish that she feels the same way about me as i do about her.
i fear the love i have for her is consuming me.
i am losing myself to her.
and she doesn’t know it. yet.
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 7:02 PM UTC
and on they walked
with thoughts floating about in their heads
with resolutions tied closely to their flesh
and their mortality soaked in anticipation of the unknown.
they follow the drumbeat of time
and slowly they are hypnotized by the monotony of the world
the silent melancholy of their yesterdays plays across their heart
the recognized the tune
cos it had played before
but somehow they think its different
how could it be?
they aren’t any new demons to fight
just the old one in a different attire.
and on they walked..
on the same path they did yesterday
with the same thoughts that was on their mind yesterday..
.
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 6:14 PM UTC
i looked into his hungry eyes
and saw the curse.
the curse his grand parents passed down to his parents
and his parents to him
i saw his dusty swarthy skin,
and his scarred finger weaving straws beside his sleeping sister
i fought the urge to question him,
to ask where his mother was
was she thinking about them?
i looked into his eyes
and saw his world,
how primal and scarred it was.
i will never forget his feeble voice
when he asked what i wanted.
how his hands were
when i gave him the money.
how desperately happy he was
that he has sold a bottle of coke
to a stranger..
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 6:13 PM UTC
if only skeletons were skeletons
then closets would be closets
if only addiction was addicted to me
then maybe falling in love wouldn't be as flimsy as falling out of it.
i'm choking in the black smokes of forgotten loves
clutching eagerly to the limbs of failed dreams
glancing pensively into the mirror of my insanity with you
this is the funny side of my death;
i fear i'll love dying for you.
you must know; bleeding isn't enough euphoria anymore
i need to lurch these deeper into my bones
then i'll watch the effervescence of this darkness erupt into art
an iceberg of violent thoughts sinking my titanic
a cacophony of giddy butterflies
nudging me closer to your door
mocking how controless i am to you
your house; a terminal to my haunted thoughts
and then is it enough?
this colossal drop into the abyss
you see, i'm fading out slowly
and you're just there watching nothing
i'm fluttering to my last emotions
bear me up- my heart don't twitch no more
please, femme fatale; wreck me!
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 5:44 PM UTC