I
As if our lips exploded in each other’s mouths,
there is a taste of gunpowder on my lips every time I dream of you
or as hallucinations take toll after acid hits nervous system,
I’ve lost both sanity and hair gradually to an extent that I refuse to believe
if I’ve lost anything at all,
I could never be reluctant to seek the truth
thus, I became walking ideology/ thoughts of tragic philosophies
I can tell you the 86 reasons of how and why we ‘fall for own destructions’
but I cannot make a child smile or make a woman feel special on dinners,
and even for a kiss, you get explosions and not blooming flowers and butterflies.

II
Do you see behind the curtains of people, streets and homes?
Are you sure you have not seen walking dead bodies–
And blood in their wine glasses?
Why did your apartment smell of overcooked meatballs?
How was there a blue around your eyes without enough make up?
The monsters are no longer under your bed or inside your closet
they share the bed with you,
touch you.

III
Hate me, for I make you recall everything you’d rather forget
inside my head you’re hogtied and I like to hear you scream,
screaming, while I squeeze out your every vulnerability, your every weakness
your every fear
form poetry out of it,
tattoo it all over your soul
and
set you free.

(fall into the depths, but never fail to the depths)