https://worddinner.wordpress.com/2018/06/01/the-queenbee-of-the-hive/

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It travels up my spine
My blood seems to skyrocket
Hammering my head violently
This feeling, I can't accept
Nor can I abuse it,
It seems to dry out my instincts
And fill the puddles with regrets of action

Revenge itches, where love never reaches,
It itches in the shared cups,                          
                in the shared beds
                in the shared bodies,
But never, in the shared hearts,
For these days, they are not shared

All love is today,
Is a folkdance in a folkworld,
With folks one will never truly love,
But pretend to be loving, Living
How lively!

The roads, the parks, the brothels,
All flood with bodies, not souls
For the vessels are empty,
staring at each other's empty faces,
Prizing empty words to one another,
And mocking anybody different,
How lively!

And in such fragrance too,
Some bear to protest,
The lively call them dead,
In which case, dying is more beautiful

It is obvious that you wouldn't like her
Her eyes wouldn't shine for anyone but me...

I have been alone,
How alone you ask?

So alone,
Even the tears flowed away,
Bearing disapproval to my state

So alone,
That my lungs haven't been polished for years,
With breath shared by a beautiful soul

The windows, they stare at their own scars
The old doors, go either way to closure,
The torn roofs welcome the rain
But the drops fill spaces,
   Not hearts

People often fear the nights,
That give them dreams