The weight of life is reduced to a cloud
As raindrops of lysergic acid run free.
Their pitters and patters equally loud
As all of the colours that melt around me.
The womb of the universe beating its drum
And setting a pace for the flowers to bloom.
A force with such strength that all nature succumbs
As peacefulness floats in kaleidoscope flumes.

Empathy blossoms, arousing a smile,
That creeps from my lips to the end of the room,
Searing itself on a cosmic denial
That beauty like this shouldn’t gestate from gloom.
Floating, not unlike a dandelions seed,
Thoughts of anxiety flee to the Earth.
They carry but vapidness with the sweet breeze.
In nebulous nebulas they are dispersed.

Now what remains as a warm neon cloud
Is beauty profound and purpose pristine.
Unwanted, the ego is left disavowed
Dancing in memories of amphetamines.
Left in its place was the beauty and I.
Climbing like vines as it forces the walls.
Pushing them down with an ******* sigh,
Revealing a cosmos that rhythmically calls:

‘Freedom is such a deplorable word.
It offers ambitions too fruitful to take.
Though comfort or not,
As with fictitious plot,
It’s only as real as it’s fake.’

To you, the one I write about.
To you, my old obsession.
To you, whose love I have no doubt
Without would bring depression.
To you, my cosmic concubine,
My supernova rose.
To you, who self-proclaimed they’re mine
Despite that no one knows.
To you, I hold the sweetest thoughts
And toast the sweetest pain.
To you, the girl who, everyday,
I fall for once again.

I am day when it’s night in my mindset.
The dark has no power on me.
I inhale the stars ash with no thought,
And exhale the moons rays from the sea.
With a smile I could bleed the nights darkness,
And burn all the clouds from the sky.
It’s always in the days that I struggle,
Always in the nights that I fly.

I could write a thousand words
To dedicate to you,
And every single word I wrote
You’d hold no doubt is true.
For every single paragraph,
And every single start,
I’d write for you in no less than
The ink of my own heart.

Slowly I have noticed that
My days are spilling into one.
Colours started fading out
And now my sense of taste is gone.
Painted circles on my eyes,
From endless hours of restless sleep,
I wear them like a war paint,
My battle cry; a sullen weep.
Now it doesn’t hurt as much
As it has done for many years.
Creeping numbness took ahold
Now even death knows not my fears.

When I hold your hand I can see that I’m half.
A half of a whole that’s much greater than I.
Whenever we kiss, and our chemicals mix,
Our atriums beat to harmonious sighs,
Widened in eye with no how, what’s or why’s.
Our love is an answer, a chance and a glance
Of the fact that our lives can be more than survival.

You, with your touch and your loves electricity.
Fertile and fierce, you’re my warm neon rose.
Vicious, your glows, which had soon overthrown
The darkness and evil I trapped deep inside me.
I can’t ignore it, my limerence foresaw,
It’s orphic, and it knows that you are for me.

Moulded by clay to a boring design,
Potentially scraped from the factory floors.
I’ve the conception that my own conception
Was callous and fallow, lazy, fugacious,
But mostly redundant, with one small exception;
As all would have meaning if I could be yours.

Caroline to Byron, Beatrice to Dante,
A muse can induce art much greater than I.
It’s quite right when I write I lose sight of sense,
As when I write of you sense need not apply.
My amorous love, my glamorous drug,
My muse of all muses, my honey soaked hug.

I’m sitting on the swings one night,
Beside my friend, who’s ****** on coke.
He spilled the usual complaints,
And so of those complaints we spoke.

“How do I get her to speak to me?”
“How long do you last in bed?”
“Why is it so hard to make them ***?”
“Wish I lived like you instead.”

This mighty man; a stockbroker,
A swindler with no pride to steal,
But as his friend, I felt for him
And sung my praise of lifes appeal.

Unbeknowst to him however,
Behind every word was stuck
An unintended ego boost
From hearing I’m the better ****.

And so I learned that fateful night
Inside I’m no more than a creep.
A **** puddle of arrogance,
Though only really half as deep.