I'll court myself once more,

Slowly, as the walls come down.

Lovingly,as if I was holding my newborn child.

Easing myself so I might hold my own joy in arms long unused.

I've been depreciating myself, as time went on
Faster & faster with the dexterity of a rogue
Ever so slightly like the courtesans of old

Til the day I find myself, and love myself for what I am.

Sometimes always monsters.

Arm in arm with someone that's not yours : - Intoxicating.

Palms on someone you shouldn't touch : - Exhilarating.

Fingers caressing someone with sensuality thought lost : - Euphorical.

What can you do when you realize you're the reason things end?

I'm done tracing for others.
Try as I may, her whispers kept derailing me.

But when I listen closely,
Eavesdropping on my very own soul,
Gasping at the horrid truth,
I know now, it is not about her.
Now, with renewed purpose, yet with a shaky will.
Some things can never be reconciled.

I'm my own long road to ruin.

Scrawl traces of your existence
Etch runes of power
Nibble the possessions meant to fade
Dig into flesh willing to bleed

Hear, the tales of eons past
Explain your purpose of existence
Lovingly caress as you are whittled away
Plead for more, til you lose where you end

And you begin.

This doesn't feel right.

There's a tune that's loose in my mind.

I recognize what I feel it for.

Pain, and this recognition brings the rain.

I don't want to believe it.

But I have to.

Between the both of us, was I trying to save you, or did you save the both of us?

Feel the warmth emanating from the fuzzy feeling in your chest, instead of the sensation of the thorny roses in your palm.

I am the slow crawl between madness and insanity.

I'm the soft tune that whistled past your ear, too soft to recall, yet sharp enough to catch your attention.


I am regret.

As formless as we become
However we dress ourselves emotionally

What we seek lies between two doors
The black-draped curtains of yesterday


Or the dusty windows, coated with the frigid air of tomorrow.

These embers are dying out.

Let us seek new pyres to martyr ourselves on.

This house is on fire, along with all these bridges connecting to it.

Let's rest here for a little, and watch the skies gain new streaks.

Her scent brings me home.

When our lips brush against each other,
It is with the brilliance of a thousand fireflies.

But when they part, they do so with the reluctance of too many farewells on train carriages.

I have long lost where you end
I have given up on my beginning

These red strings became rope, digging into our being.
Bound as one, to the Hereafter.

From cosmic dust,
To cosmic ash.

I will see you, again.

Dance with me till the suffering ends
Kiss me, tell me everything will be alright.

It's time for my soul to be disarmed.

The shadows I used to love in
Saturated with noises

The bottoms of heated sands I kept seeing
Showed me the right way for once

I'm hooked, of being a man.
I'm booked, off being in love.

Spill more from your lips

Let me hear one more time

Who's really obsessed with who

I flew into the embrace of uncertainty
Afraid of what I'd find, alone.

Now, after settling on the shoulders of choices made
I'm mostly home

And I'm me
And we're home

And there's no point being selfish anymore.

Amidst the temperature dropping

The words and actions blended together

Then symphonies became orchestral

And I knew then, they were instrumental

Caressing my soulless vacant husk

Kneading feelings back into me.

Perhaps at the end of my ink, the end of graphite.

This is the way I bleed best, into paper.

They said, write well.

They said, write less.


I wrote, breaking as every word I poured had a piece of me.

I wrote, letting my soul enunciate every word, proofreading their symphonies.

My flesh is crawling
Coated with the sensations
That were left from yesterday

My heart is cracking
Bound together by hope
That I chose to hold close/dear

My soul is fading
Touched by the end of all things
Where even death may die.

There are moments

Which you speak


But there are moments

Where you halt your breath


And speak of something else

For better or for worse.

A few more words squeezed out for the year

Become the candle which I kneel to
Endure the flames which kiss you
Orate your tears in my arms
Wince as our wuthering tempest jolts us
Unyielding our souls shall be
Ligaments tear apart with blighted tone
Forsaking atonement for damnation

This I swear to you
Yours will be the name I cry at night


A few more tears freshly picked from the oven

Elsewhere in a surrogate legacy
I was walking down the corridors
Our effigies, dead ringers and tableau
Unruly, unnecessary, and everywhere
An afterlife I didn't want to exist in

But you told me something I can't recall Scattered like leaves in the wind
The soundtrack of nails
On a chalkboard
An onslaught of recollection

A pitch perfect rendition of my deeds
A choice between myself and you

Bitter, battered I fell
Bloodied, bruised knees clotting

Your illustration, your illusion slid to me
Your plunging neckline, of plumed faith.

Labium laboured
Labrum lolled

As you held my dying gasp
As you gazed into infinity in my eyes

You breathed the last loving words.
Hark, my king.
Kiss me, kiss me goodnight.
Surrender to me,
One more song for the end.

Cold feet, uncertainty left wide open

Irony striking true

My fears unleashed on the streets

Brought to life once more

Cold blooded reptiles prowl the square

Incessantly I claw at my skin

Peeling, shedding and bleeding

Biting down, doubling down

Cold scaly smooth ridged skin beneath

Under cold moonlight

I'll bare my fangs for the hunt

To find anywhere but here.

If we go all the way back

To where the night had no hold over us


To silent days laced with kisses

Ending with quiet nights addled with mirth


No more heroes left

Just us villains of our own stories.

Fire, fire everywhere again.

You haunt me, but I ignore it.


Your succulent chest, with the sultry kiss of hellbound pain.

We're moths. And some of us run in and die.


But, a beautiful end, to the dismal lives we have.

My fingers curl around your face.


I'm afraid this would've been all a waking dream.

Maybe, just maybe.
  In another life, another time.

We could come together,
  And embrace each other, innocent.

I kneeled down
Picking off cigarettes
Reaching down
Picking up the bouquet


Born of maybes
I still recall her cold touch

Left with her smile
I struggled to my feet

A ballad of kisses
Warmth greater than silence that grew between us.

I set the pyre on fire
Now even in death,


She does not belong to me.

Her absence made the heart grow fonder
  But the abated breath
   And silent waiting
      Makes me feel like we're forever
Dancing
To the end of love.

There was somebody for each scar we have on our skin ; a flesh canvas streaking raving stark mad.

Theatres of sounds grating on my nerves

These tunes scrambling all thought

I hope my senses cover themselves tonight.

A minute to make some noise

A lifetime of tiny cracks

Buttered up, swallowed up stage fright

Bitter, sour sweet milk flowed into her.

Let endless neon wash over pale powdered skin

Gyrating all over the hips go

Synchronized beating of the incessant drumming

It's her scent I know

Along with countless swaying bodies.

Who knew we were just two black holes spinning in a perpetual spin cycle, not even meeting the courtesy of becoming pulsars?

One day we'll find significance/We'll scour the Earth for meaning


I know it so because I've been here/The aching bones scream for rest



We just have to believe/Fire everywhere and none of it passion



Bid our time/The same old **** the same old lies the same everyday



Love conquers all/Bleeding time, wasting away in meaningless motions



The tides push & pull ever closer/Imperfect harmonies


Life, a pendulum.\Life, a dowsing.\Life, cosmic horror.\Life, a spark.



The cacophony upon several melodies shattering coherence, bleeding.


Bleeding, kicking, screaming, the feminine bloodsport, the masculine lullaby.

I can't be quiet. I need to be constantly moving. I'm worried if the onyx eyes I have stop blinking, if I stop and fall silent, like the clockwork flesh golem I am, I'll fall over and never wake again.

I'm listening to the silent groves your favourite song made.

I'm packing up the baggage I carried around for years.

Soon I'll come around, waking from the dreamer's vigil.

Staring at portraits in my wallet, feeling myself falter.


Just for a moment, to let myself feel your voices once more.

Giving in to vices, one more time to feel vulnerable,

I'll keep marching on, because the difference this time?


I'll swear I'll never be there.

We're all a beautiful mess,

A canvas with a thousand painters,

Using pallid palettes for a stroke of brilliance,

And leaving the same way we all entered.

And as the tides rolled in

Sun peering at us at she woke

The dark lights falling away

I peered over my shoulder


To your alabaster image.

A queen most fair, with blade poised to serve,

A queen just, years linear on her face.

Dare she speak? Will it bring cause, for the effect?


The matriarch, by wolves, admonished.

When will her sparrow ever come,

Tasting the tears that will never end.

I've got a bone to pick with ya.

Yeah, you heard me right.

Your prenuptial presence ebbs away my will far quicker,

Than any toxin or evil might.


You feel so right, when the peace enroaches my soul.

Auld lang syne, my dear treasure in the rough.

My darling sapphire, the maiden of roses.

Til kingdom cometh.

You startled me, as if you were

Skulking about, tip-toeing like you were

Stalking around, hanging around like you were

Prowling about, shimmying everywhere!

We're ghosts
In the candlelight

We're guests
Of the starless night


Who would have guessed
We'll haunt these homes forever?

With the turning of the clock,

And the grooves on your hip,

I'll just toss your stature over my shoulder,


Just to prove a point.

And if the world should quake

And if the boughs would bend

And if the hearts would break


I'm coming back for you.

Identity, of what some of us lack, which some of us get swallowed up by. The feeling of your words, the nuances of your tone, the emotive language of your being. We're caught up in different covers, the beds we left unfulfilled, glasses left half-empty with patchwork flesh bound with less-than reliable memories. Fog clouds our vision in the mirror, bodies that feel foreign, as if the skin's innards are someone, or something else's.