I want to paint your every detail with my words

But I fear this maddening obsession will put you off.

I want to write about your freckles and wrinkles,

About the colour of your lips

But I am afraid this creep in my head will drive you away.



I want you to read what I write about you,

But never saying it’s you;

To leave you with wet clouds but never rain.


I want to write about how you light a cigarette and caress my face with smoke

About how you revel in this beloved poison on your thick lips.

About how you let your hair rest on your forehead

Making love to your eyes.

About how you are wondering right now if it’s all for you.



I want to write about everything you were, as you were

About how you are, as you are

About how you will be, dark and free

With or without me.

I am a poet in love and you are immortal.

I savour how you smile at death,

And slip out of my coffin to please another in the darkness,

Like a child running from his mother’s lies.



I have imagined you next to me every night

That it does feel real.

You come as insomnia

As an old idiosyncrasy

As a drug

As the fire-maker;

Smouldering me till the moon feels weary;

Only to return on another night

To never kiss my scars

But to stone fresh blood spores in them,

To let the pain breathe inside.



You stand at the edge of my bed each night

To run your fingers on my body like a needle,

To ****** me with your carnality,

To drench your teeth in my blood like a digger in sand.



So, each night between the poles of nothing and everything

I unmake my bed

Stained with unfinished songs and pillows burnt

To let you in my heart shaped coffin

Because you are the fuel to this stick that runs between my fingers and writes for you.



So, come again tonight,

I’ll whisper you a death song.

You can laugh at death one more time,

And resurrect me with your rejection.

This is a farewell song,

The last words that I’ll ever exchange with you.

It’s a goodbye.

The end of everything.


Treat me as a stranger now and I’ll return the favour.

If some day, you run into me,

Do not take pains to smile or say hello, because I won’t return it.

Because a part of me won’t let me smile even if I want to.

Because my veins will tie my hands and stop me to reach for you,

to wave at you,  to embrace you, like I once did.

Because this is the end

It’s a goodbye.


You murdered my existence

There’s a part of me that’s always going to hate you,

A part of me that’s always going to remember you,

And remind me why storms are named after people.