From the moment I saw you
I knew you would be the death of me

...and I would let you be.

It is too late -
Your name has already carved itself
into a song- and what an ironic song
you chose to represent yourself with...
I will remember you for centuries,
it says but let's remember
that the feeling is mutual;
You will not forget me now and then.

You will not forget mind numbing kisses,
you will not forget holding me
as if our lives depended on it.
And cursedly, I will not forget you;
I will try to, but everything
will start to resemble you.

Even these words - are they getting you
out of my own head or are they
digging my grave just an inch deeper
into dirt - dirt you dug out, just for me,
with a smile, a ribcage, and
a heartbeat that feels like my tombstone
teasing me, beating down the seconds until
my heart stops, *just for you.

6 minutes to 12 am,
I'm your prisoner again,
my breath stains the windows
of this house,
this house is asleep.

Won't awaken to my needs,
Won't keep me full,
my soul needs a feed,
Cannot differentiate
my happiness from my sadness
both are equally opposites extremes.

This is nothing permanent,
Just my mind gone funny,
drained from the ways
I spent my day,
I have this tendency to
take a step forward and leap
and keep running from
what my mind binds me to,
I don't want to feel for you,
I don't want to feel for anyone anymore.
If you leave, at least
shut the ******* door.

I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but I feel like an abandoned
collector's case left in a corner
to rot or do as I please without
so much but the guidance of the wind.

But the wind is not stable
and therefore neither am I,
I cannot tell whether I'm
imagining this all or
seeing it with my very eyes.
Reality and fantasy have
merged into one and
I can no longer tell the difference
between a dream or everyone's nightmare;
I die in both.

I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but if my soul's exterior had any texture,
right now it'd be peeling;
no it is not beautiful and it
cannot make fake roses
like an orange peel might.
There are no flowers here,
only a garden of late nights and tears.

Outside, spring is evolving
Inside, my lungs are decomposing.
I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but I feel like an abandoned collector's
case left in a corner;
I am a case long closed ,
given up on and
I am collecting dust.

Permanent present
In
Present impermanence

O

With no immediate
Memory
Yet all
Events
Recall in perfect
Clarity

O

Here
Now
And now
Gone

O

Life without
Relation
To
Unrelated

Object

Nor subject
Relates to
None

O

(I want I want I want)

A morning fully complete,
weakened mood,
tears on the bed sheets.

Thoughts of you
should lift me higher,
but quite opposite,
erode my mind.

Thinking in grey
comes as easy
as breathing;
as easy as my shallow breaths
begging to hear gun shots,
but somehow this nightmare,
somehow you are not vile enough
to make me want to leave.

Thinking in technicolor
is a caustic riddle, puzzle
for my migraine to solve
give me back existence,

(My skin my skin my skin)

Why she should stay?
Look at the way how you treated her
She gave you everything
But, you were insincere
You never showed her any appreciation
All you did was waste precious time
Dissension has reared its ugly head
There is nothing but dark clouds in the sky

From the very first time
I felt that flutter in my belly move
I knew the best gift of life
and that gift was you
My son
My gift from God
You are my happy place
Nothing brights up my day more
than when I see your smiling face
I will do my best to teach you
and raise you right
Always say please and thank you
Know what battles to fight
Do not worry about love, son
You will find the right woman
When you have become the right man
Don't take for granted this life
that god has given you
Treat people the way
you want to be treated
and always see things through
We are not promised tomorrow
So live it well and seize the day
and ride the sun the entire way