Can you blame me if I need your fingers tracing down my spine again?

I've gone too long, fallen too hard to make sense where I end and you begin.

I pay more attention nowadays to the air escaping my teeth between each word I speak,


To the soft crackling, in the dark.

Uncertainties cloud judgment
Eccentricities pierce better reasoning
By the time the colours fall

You will know why the thin line holds us so.

Both liberating and excruciating. The candle wick burns down til it's nothing ; it proceeds to extinguish itself.

Such is the natural order of things : the only constant is time.

what we feel for the time passed
how we think for the lives past
we loved. and that's all we can do.


This fresh coat of paint is cracking up faster than how I thought it would be.

At first you saw it was nothing.
And then you had to believe it was something.
And at long last, it became every little thing you didn't see coming.

Here's to mourning the things we never lost
Here's to dying over a cause you don't believe in


Here's to beating yourself up for things that were already preordained


Here's to sorrow.


It's the unique taste on your tongue and mind,
It's the feeling you never had,
It's the tune you never heard.

For it doesn't exist.

Now, do I have your attention or should I fuel your apprehension?

You should stop looking too much into what you dream.
They're more akin to a waking nightmare.

Their skin. Their waists. Their movements.

Intoxicating, aren't they?

Now that you've come up to breathe.

Now that you're on dry ground again.

You are not Icarus.

And they are not the Sun.

You know what you felt.

A great amount of suppression of lust.

But the fire, oh the fire.

Rouse yourself.

Douse the flames.

A soft silky smooth thread falls into your hands again.

Let it go.

The only thing he's ever done,

Oh so tired of all the wrongs

A little more.

Every day.

Kept falling apart and.

Slipped away.

Slithering snakes obscure view,
Aching with need, want, desire.
Her fingers trace, knead, embed themselves in mine.

It's the disquiet that follows.
Aching burning crying deep within.


It is just something simpler than what you usually find,
The bliss you find,
When you're all out of time.

To feel red, to bleed red, to be red.

It's not enough.

The blood must flow unconsciously,
The need bleeds from every inch of self.

A hunger, that is not misunderstood.

A quiet day followed by empty nights without her.

It's finding she's Yoko to your Lennon.

Ah, the silence of conniptions.

What would they say, what would they do?

There is no cold white light for me.
Only the stark white after all the grey.

You walk into lives, clenched fists
You stray into lives, clenched fists

She tells him her story
He tells her his tale

We wander into souls, open-shut eyes.
We float into souls, closed-circuit minds.

A glass offered to ghosts
A dreamy interlude

They left us, with bleeding hands.
Left you, with broken bones that will never heal.

Her perfect circle.
His vicious cycle.

Sun, where we began and danced in her light until we grew tired of being and went apart from each other, promising to write snail mail and songs.
Mercury, where we collided and saw each other for the last time, hurtling towards a great unknown.
Venus, where we never knew strife and bargain, to begin with a step back and two steps forward, enchanted by all she had to offer.
Earth, was where we found each other, after walking quite a distance away from each other, only to meet again along the infinite line.
Moon, where the concept of death became alien and we danced to the ebbing of waves on the cold shores lit ablaze by the bonfires in our hearts.
Mars, where the idea of war entered our souls and waged war we did, turning whole empires into ash with our weaknesses and humanity.
Jupiter, where it was decreed our penance would be great, and humility would be in our bones before long.
Saturn, when we knew our time tending to orchards and vineyards for our sins would be over, and we danced until the morning light.
Uranus, whole and plain for us to see, the empty void of unchange making our souls sick, for everyday was exactly the same.
Neptune, where we finally settled on the same shores we met each other at first, and held each other closer than we ever did, as time itself stopped.

The grim look he gave me was more than enough,

The time ticking down never felt right.

Dawn came, only that it wasn't soon enough.


His soft purring would never be heard again.

Love doesn't work like how it does in the movies.


Imagine all the red wine spilt.


And all the sleeping pills taken.


Sepia turns to gray-scale.

Love, a most bitter pill.

Riddle me this.

I am every bad day you had.

I am every tear you never shed.

I am the bullet in the gun you never fired.

I am the light you sought, only to realise the brilliance within isn't too much brighter than the shadows without.

I am every bad thought you ever had.

I am the shaking of the wrist, the trembling of the fist.

I am the silence in the trees.


What am I?

wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time:



Tracing the runes down your face
Memory serves me well, I did this before.

Inside yesterday again, tasting sepia.


Funny, it tastes like maple syrup.
Accompanied by Dutch syrup stripping
Randy layers of my mind away

Cryogenic tones take over
Ravaged by time itself
Yesterday will always be rosy

But today has tender roughness
Today has the King in Black attending to his Lady In Red
Tomorrow will have him repeat the same cycle again
Because yesterday will always be rosy


It's yesterday, and a funeral.
It's yesterday, and a broken promise.
It's yesterday, and a contract signed.

It's just yesterday.

So tell me.

If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again,
And arriving at the same result.


What about doing the same thing over and over again, and finally arriving at a different result?

grinning
smacks lips


Why, I'll tell you.

It's genius.

Clean up after yourself,
Your mess invites more that are akin.

Why did I ever bother?

Your patterns break out once again

Nothing you have ever let go

Came back to you


Like the oceans you crossed

But yet the only ocean that you never seem to swim in

Time, time itself.

Don't your own primal instincts tell you to give up the ghost?

Grabbing it all by the hair,

Suspending your belief that it could even happen in the first place.

Ah, a beautiful explanation is due, isn't it?

I'm afraid there's none.

It's your fault.

The intimacy of the memory leaves me shaking with its lack of mercy.

The intricacies of her theory leaves me hungering for delicacies she might have offered.

The original sin was that pride left me a long time before I realised I hungered for only one concept : constant change.

A heavy heart, but a constant weeping, until the day either of us turns back.

Will you?

Something so much more simpler than anything else - void of thought, void of want - just the two of us

I still recall the tears that opened after the years fell from your face.

I ask none, but to be strong.

I am and will be walking after you.

Closer and closer I inch, til I one day will be beside you again.

What started off with me, will end with us.

You're my light.

The dark will swallow me, with only your light to dispel it.

From a lord of the moor, to the King In Black.

From a lady in red, to the Red Queen.

Our language, the only one we need.
Our cascade, remorse, repense.
Our beginning, restart, end.

Back to the shadows on my moor.
The Grey Lord into ash..
And the King In Black with a crownless throne.

Even if my life should be snuffed out tomorrow,

For sanity's sake,

I cannot reach out to you anymore.


A stage where the state of best conditions, and good intentions brought ruin.

I'll use this pain, to create the world I always wanted.

Your ash, my embers.

My dark soul, your dying flame.

I wish things could've been easier.
It seems I used up all my shooting star wishes, wishbones and eyelash wishes.


Wishful thinking, wishy washy hopes that somehow without saying a word or muttering a wish everyone would be alright.

I used my prayer for you.
If it wasn't my time to be in your life again, bells would chime and I'd walk away.


But enough talk.

Swish you go.

I wished for an angel to descend,
Only to pluck out their wings and burn the feathers.

I hoped to hold a scent to memory,
Instead scorched earth yet I recall.

Maybe it's me.
Maybe it's me.

I fought to hold what I held dear.
Only for it to slip out anyway, when I wasn't looking.

Now, I'm an idiot in a parade of fools.


With shell and bone, I let go of you.
With iron and stone, I become him.

Leave the king in black be. It's hopeless.

This pain I feel, it's beautiful.
This pain I feel, it's magnificent.

An odd sense of humour, life has.

This closure I have, soul-rattling.
This closure I sought, psychedelic.

No more tears with my years.
No more fears with my years.

I flew too close to the sun.
Now for my own good.

No more.

Finally I am free1
I pay the cost2
The tears dry up0
The time slides by7
The heart's cold winter opens up to the2 eye of the storm0
The throne of want, and the crown of1 irony.*7



Why does this hurt so much?
Is this how normal people do normal things and have normal hearts broken?
Is this the constant loop of emotion and separation, a dance to find the other?
Is it because there's something wrong with the moon tonight, perhaps being born under an unlucky star?
Is this how heartbreak, feels like after all this time?
How do I reconcile my feelings, how do I keep my immaterial guts from spilling out?
Why is it, even after everything, so beautiful?
Why is everything a beautiful wreck, sordid and macabre?
Why is it, that I still am in love?

Bitter pill
Swallowed down
Like a cuckold
But an accidental one
**** dude
You were right
Men like me exist to be used
Heh
No wonder the disdain.
The gut never lies.

The same old lie.
Choking down with ice cold water
Like a game
But one with scalding oil
**** man
Should've listened to you
Heh
Bring it back down
Back into the eye of the hurricane.

Raven feathers litter the cobblestones
black dresses flutter
Dead doves line the sewers
white lies splutter
Treading on brittle ribcages
the centre of his mind
The consumed, mad king looking up
he's home, maybe
Softly broken sirens blare again
it's the end of the world
We're home, I think

"It's like you're not letting me in."
Nonsense. You're projecting.

Perhaps you're right.
Of course I am.

But like a circle, these words come back to haunt me.
Yet like the ocean waves, my body came back to me.

You will forget.
I will forget.

When the time comes, our memories will fade, til spring blooms once more.

What do you know about the demons that visit us at night?
What do you know about the song that sings when two souls meet?

So you say, that I'm bad to the bone.
So you say, that I'm good for nothing.



What do you know, of being you then?

This crazy stupid love.

Who would've guessed, us?

Of all people?

**** this*

For the next chump, the next line of idiots after me.

I hope you don't tear your hair out with her.
I hope you don't mind the mess she makes when you think everything is tidy.
I know you will, definitely attempt to change things around for her.
I know you will, definitely sigh in frustration as your efforts all go to waste.
I hope time will be kind to your psyche.
I hope time will be lenient with you.

I daresay this will be your greatest challenge, perhaps conquest or muse yet.
I daresay it's like a hotline you want to make several calls to.
Take it from me. The previous guy.

2 : make progress; develop in a particular manner or direction.


A heart that wanted nothing but to be held with the tightest of vices, yet with the intention of time spinning silk.

Yet, the grey was all it knew.
And when the time came, the heart shattered other hearts, not knowing how it should feel.

Thus, like how the grey began, the grey crawled to a halt, after the domain it lived in grew decrepit, rank.

And it is rain, in the forest.

Obsession, terrible by itself.
What would make you think I would want any of this?

Just recall, I've never liked your shticks.
Recall, who I came to you as.


One thing still bothers me.
One thing still annoys me.

If feeling this way is good,
Like how you said.



Why do I feel so miserable?

Faith is not enough when the heart sings of lovelier times.
The heart must bask in the spray of the shore
To come back, dripping of taste and understanding
Faith would be enough
If faith could be wielded like the sword
Or cradled like a child
But faith must be supplemented by action, by deed.
I have faith in you.

Fleeting, dragging me along like
Undertow, no one else knows, yet
Clearly, it's just wishful thinking.
Kings would be thankful for clarity.

Because it hurts,
Because you can't anymore.

You're done with tears.
I'll have yours instead.


For I can't shed any.

Scent of weak oranges flows through the air

Coupled with bitter lavender

Out of use sour ashtongue as it tumbles


Orange flows through the glass


Posted with the lack of words


*hey, i miss you

Your manner of speech is black,
And your gaze is grey.

One thing's for sure, everything is exactly the same, the way it started, as well as the way it ended.

Hold on tight, to my breakbeat heartbeat.
It's the final chapter for this book.
The book between us.


Bend in the breeze, to the wind of change.
Let the fingers trace runes once again.
Ignite the same feelings, gone but not forgotten.


These feelings, sieved and strung out.
Like an irregular heartbeat.
Barely hanging in there, with chaos ruling it.
Time for change.

In the end, the road to my own hell was paved repeatedly with the best of intentions : and the lack of understanding not everything is a nail to my hammer.*

Bittersweet chocolate runs down the cheek, sweet caramelized sugar around the lip.
A wonderful realisation : not everything was meant to fall into place ; not everything could go my way.


Half-boiled eggs with light soya sauce, dribbling down the spoon, crunching toast with soothing jam.
She was the flame and everyone was a moth, I recognised it for what it was, still conflagrated.

Beauty** :
A lapse in judgement brought to life.

(Some actors in the story bear resemblance to what we imagined lost)


Lust  :

A soft growl into a low roar.

(Come here often?)



Rage  :

The cacophonous tears of grief turned into fuel for fire.


(You cannot possibly understand the hate I have.)


Joy  :

Their faces turned up just as quickly as their skin prickled, and their eyes shone with primal brilliance.


(Smile.)



Bitterness  :


The hard, long gulp going down your throat as you feel yourself slowly choking.


(Her uncertainty led to such)



Acceptance   :


A man who thought he had everything under control, and realising he doesn't.

(Nothing ever, stays the same.)

Sadness  :


A mourning dove.


(Looking at you through the glass)



Grief  :


Head down, arms raised towards the sky.



(But all I want is you.)


Her  :


The intensity of fire, with none of its ire.
The promise of earth, without diminish.
The mutability of water, yet soothing.
The vastness of air, and space for us.
Our basic space.

I'll draw the curtains as many times as I need to.

Your ghost is still here.
But while I'm still here,

I'll walk off into the dark side of the moon.

To reconcile with myself,
What I lost when you swept the floor with your ashes.

Cold sweat running down the face

Mouth clenched in anticipation of the yawning pain


The open wound festering would've been preferable to the sealing, stitching of it.

Dour expression on my face as I make the choice

Because I know, I know I have to do this.


Til we meet again.

The gravity of assertion, the innocuous chuckles and giggling, with the eyes of experience and eagerness.

Illusions that I don't even seem to be aware of, the deeper meanings behind my words and low monotonous chuckling.

With every move certain, until it becomes unsure anymore what's behind the door.

Succumb, and pull on my strings as much as I can to you.

Fall under this house of dominance.
Kneel before the end of choices.
Understand your will doesn't exist anymore.

Call me angry,
call me needy,
call me clingy,
tell me I'm full of want.

But you should know, when you kissed me for the first time,
the maelstrom in my heart waned, and the chaos that wrapped her head around it dissipated.

for only with you do my soles get set on fire,
the dark of the night becomes more welcoming like day is supposed to be,


and the love, you've got the love.

You.

I don't know what it is that I see in you.

Neither do I know how that this came to be.

These logistics demand that the evergreen status of my mind request the answer to it.

But as for me, I've decided.
I'll stop fighting.

I'll let these waves caress my skin.

I'll indulge myself in these feelings.

Maybe one day I'll wake up and realise it was but an illusion.

A dream.

An inception born from a desire to connect.

But then again.

From my desire, there was surrender.
From my gradual surrender, power.

I love you.

The eighth in a long line of failures,

Luring all he could use to build his empire of rust.

Lusting after impossible trajectories,

Trachea wheezing in sorrow,

Rowing down the empire of rust.

The first flame slowly flickers out.


No other source of illumination burns.


You gather kindling, desperate to find some sense of security.


The security light brings.


Ash begins to gather on your face.


Forming your very visage, only frozen in place.

The mask of undeniable terror.

All rise, and he's still sitting down.


Arms outstretched, fingers clasped.


They move to the rhythm ingrained.

Sipping on the glass, he waits.


Any of this, he passes up.

Still awaiting for the tattered dress to sweep in the door.

"Until you became the air in my lungs, the symphony between our steps,
The echoes of your voice in my ears,
The soft embrace of night over day.
You have become, second nature."

"Before, I was one. Now I am less than one, but so much more with you."