lay your cards down on the table
the other one picks theirs up and holds it
up against their face the back of the cards
shining and shimmering in the dim candlelight
you know what they’ll do
they know what you’ll do

the rounded edges of the cards
thank you for your perfect trimming
pricking your fingers trying to
make your way around the points and corners
snipping and snapping the scissors go
one by one cloaking them in softness and warmth

the curtains sway in the sharp wind
the fireplace crackling in the clacking cracks
of the damp and dark walls, leaning
to the freshly opened smells of the decks
as they clatter around as clutter, filling up
your senses, sending you into a slight delirium

they take one of their cards
and let it float back down to the wooden tabletop
landing beside the bouquet of blood roses
a picture of the perfect gift appears
wrapped in all its splendour and glory: a ring of
pure diamond, of pure gold, of pure love

you happily dish out a stack of gilded cards
with no care or concern; you let some flutter to
the ground for the others to pick while they
eye your paper money with delicate hungry
hands hanging around, silently slipping some
into their own deck as you smile

the candle flickers as they play another card,
a portrayal of a house, a quiet place to call home
with children, hundreds, dancing and skipping
and being children, and all you can and want to do
is let the cards stream out of your hand, your
laugh lines creasing your already weathered mirror

the game goes on, no qualms about stopping,
and neither do you, as your wrinkles take over
your face in a sweep, with them mirroring yours,
the wind getting wilder, your hair in a storm,
a stack of chaotic cards in the middle, spiralling
about the room in a frenzy as the candle goes out
and darkness ensues and you reach out for them
in the now growing mess of a restaurant and the
curtains blow past your face windows shattering
and all you can think about is them them them them them and when you finally reach the other side of the table and breathe

no one is there. the table flipped over
like a game long lost and forgotten
and all the cards lying dead and roses pooling on the floor and oh how you want to follow suit;
but this game is too fun and you go on to the next
round, sweeping card edges off your suit.

awkward smile sticky wave
both stuttering in faked honesty and false sincerity
words crafted and sewed to fit around the other
perfectly like a blackened cardigan
lined with sweet sweet poison

killer eye contact keeps you out
and keeps you coming back for more
the risk and danger of falling into the grasps
of a worse person than you
is tantalising like munching on melatonin morsels
while dancing away from death’s ***** door

when backs are turned
smiles die and waves collapse
into the sweaty twisting of fingers
and the twisting of mouths into large long grins
ready for the first conversation the first contact
traps ready they turn around

with even bigger smiles
starting with the sharpened hook
of a fairytale introduction where
one came from antarctica and the other from hell
giggles and laughter only serve to make hair stand
cringing inside so much their stomach is a braid

poison and sarcasm don’t drip like honey
they slide and slither and burn like snakes
in the grass, camouflaged in the already dark night
up they go into your brain your mind your soul
feasting on your fear your weakness your love

then comes the main course the connection
the stories of broken childhoods in succession
not stopping for a tear or a comment
flowing like the poison flowing like the river
of thoughts that fall from your head
as the story goes on, getting stuck in the endless
ebb and flow and tide and spiral of hypnosis

it’s too late when you realise
you’re in his palm his hand his fingers
a puppet for pain of pain by pain
the strings no your own strings
wrapped around your own hands your own feet
your mind caught in its own trap

just a tunnel to the other side
a flight of steps in a thunderstorm of rickety
elevators to be stepped on and off
crumbling to dust in the very end
an underpass to the above, just the cement
crusted and turned to stone frozen
in time, unmoving, resigned

and finally you sleep
in your own cocoon you made for him
tighter and tighter the strings are
the more tired you become
falling into the eternal rest
barely slipping from the dancing fingers of death
slipping past it into a place
your place, faraway
lost in your own dreams and nightmares

this is humanity’s very own Pandora’s Box
watch as it unfolds watch as it unlocks

besties for life - what are friends for

to be used as an ends to your means
a toy to play with, a shortcut to your goal
a rag doll to shield your schemes
thrown away when growing mould growing old

love is a game - you won’t get bored

for like minded killers and villains
to slowly entrap, their lives under the lake
till spiralling obsession and infatuation bleeds pain
leaving the world with one less snake

people are leeches - death at the core

don’t get too close or you’ll become a shell
their heartless chests hold more than just evil
one wrong step gives way to vampirical spells
one more trick leads you straight to the devil

nature is a curse - thorns at the fore

we think we own it - it owns us
we sleep on thrones of poison ivy
we survive on the shadows of feeble trust
we bide our time before this becomes a privy

souls are myths - just emotional ******

we scream and moan and shout and cry
hanging onto threads of sanity
we think we’re brave, we’re scared to die
******* our own blood - please join us for tea

reality is dreamland - we hide behind closed doors

we cover our eyes so we can see
whatever we see is what we believe
what we believe are all the lies we’ve been
dreams are ghosts of things we’ll never achieve

maybe once we’ve reached the limit the ceiling the floor
we’ll learn our lesson, once and for all

stone walls guard scattered calls
of the birds tied down by their own broken wings
and they wonder why birdsong’s in its grave

the others whimper and squeal as
the walls move in and close in
nearer and closer
and run over the flurry of feathers
like exploding pillows and torn blankets
their screams seeping into the bed

some seem to be smarter - they crawl, their broken wings dragging on the floor as they drag themselves across the floor as the walls run across the floor
but broken they stay, a pair of broken bones wound across their backs into their hearts

the bravest stand firm stand tall stand against the unbreakable tide that breaks the unbreakable
but in a gust they are reduced to the shrivelled corpses of bright lights and brighter dreams

they have yet to realise a(the) force stronger than them

the wings that they dearly long for are really the ones that are tying them to the ground

the wall of feathers and pointed ends rushing towards them and they rushing towards it

the muffled bang as reality and reality collide