Some days I tread in the madness of my head.

Squirming tentacles of loathing with staining black ink.

Skittering crawling legs of anxiety darting and buzzing.

Black oily fog of depression chocking and weighing me down.

Whispering racing thoughts babbling and overlapping as a crowd.

Swollen infection of frustration gummed up and fit to overflow.

Stinging rash of anger rasping my throat with silent screams.

Dull heavy ache of resentment weighing in my chest making me weary.

These are the fiendish ingredients of my mind's cauldron, my stew of madness.

Some days I can bring fire inside and burn it all away, but the charred remains fester and come back.

Some days I can find a friend and shine a light inside, but this only halts the rot and reminds me of everything there.

Maybe someday I'll resolve this malady, answer the question.

Find someone with light to see, fire to burn, and care to sit by me as I heal.

Or grow old enough to take it all with ice and salt for my husk.

Those who look at me would be surprised,
by the hunger that I hide,
the hunger of my lust.

A daily want, a desire, a need,
to hold, squeeze, and please,
the burning under my skin.

The craving to touch and caress,
the yearning to kiss and bite,
the ache to engage over and over again.

The sighs and moans like a sweet melody,
hold her through her high a pleasure,
making her know the hunger of my lust.

To trail my kisses and seize her breath,
to worship her body and pleasure repeatedly,
to make my name her prayer.

A bite to claim her,
a mark to remind her,
a night to undo her.

Tongues entwining and *******,
hands roaming and massaging,
hips grinding and declaring the hunger of my lust.

My fingers inside her pumping and pressing,
my mouth stealing her gasps and cries,
sending her to the peak till she shakes.

My length spearing her and burning her from within,
on her back, her front, and under her,
rubbing and filling her until she cries and I release yet still crave.

My want to please her and make her shake and gush,
my desire to give and thank her for satisfying,
my need to sate the hunger of my lust.

Sky of steel, dull grey,
polished silver, and aged black.

Rain like cool tears, morning dew,
letting go, and washing away.

Veins of lightning, powerful yet brief,
explosive like thought, and pure like fire.

Roaring thunder, ringing hammer fall,
echoing in bones, and sudden like a gunshot.

Nature's wrath, world's fury,
untamed by man, and carrying us away.

I don't open up easily
but I do get attached easily
I care too much too fast
there for I come off as clingy

There they wander,
lost, mourning and weeping.

Under a red sun ever-bleeding,
under a sky veiled by smoke,
under a dull moon without luster.
Over everburning cities and thirsty fields,
over blasted mountains and mired seas,
over dark oceans hiding twisted wrecks.

Drifting in burning wind on ashen wings,
over bones long-since become dust,
tears like rain, salting the ruins.

Abandoned angels on a dead world,
guardians with none they could save.

What you see is my mask,
so who are you to judge me?
Do  you feel up to the task,
of puzzling out what you don't see?

Your kind are confounding,
never staying the same,
your ways are disturbing,
atrocities and puzzles too many to name,
your manners are vexing,
chattering and spreading unable to tame.

I watch you to try and understand,
silently questioning and trying,
to suit the norms and meet the demand,
mimicking the behavior and the talking.

I don't fit in among you,
doubt I ever will,
though I meet my due,
and continue to try still.

My appearance is an act,
my smile and grin fake,
so much I forget the fact,
it is of my own make.

So tell me what you see,
when you look and think,
what kind of person I must be,
though the answer may make my heart sink.

How would you describe me?
How do I seem to you?
Do you understand what you see?
How much of it is true?
Is it my true face?
Is it what you thought you knew?
Does it match your taste?

Do you see me?
Do you see the toll?
Of who I must be,
and the truth of my soul.

Do you see me,
a glance or a trace,
of my heart free?
Of my real face?

I wish I knew,
Who I was,
to me and you.

You seep into me, like a black ink stain. Controlling my urges, and feeding my pain. Your fingers twist into the depths of my chest, pulling at veins. A burrowing pest.

Your rotting confection sticks to my itching teeth. A liquorice taste, leaving me bittersweet.

I get lost in my darkness, and cling to your light. But it guides me to nowhere, as you steal my sight. A zombie for your heavy pets, and your soft wet kiss.  Your eyes were my windows, but you've pasted over them with bricks.

I search for you in galaxies, and worlds lost upon me. I run to you in nightmares, and pray for you in dreams. The empty air that fills my lungs, and staggers all my thoughts. The skeleton left in my closet, plotting to leave me to rot.

I have no plans of letting go, or willing this to end. I'll hang on every word you say until the very end.

I'll kneel at the alter of your lacking religion. I'll weep for your aching parts, and all you're missing.

I'll worship you like you're a God, and lick your wounds like a dog licks his scars. My Eros who longs to take over me, my Poseidon who can't find the sea. Come to me when your body is worn, and your heart is weak, and your mind war torn.

Take my heart, my soul is your host. I'm in love, but only know your ghost.