What happens then, when I run out of things to say?

What happens then, when you look me in the eyes and see nothing?

What happens if I tell you I'll bleed for you, and we leave each other bloodied and broken?

What will either of us do, when words become cheaper, more affordable than actions?


What if three a.m never comes, what if we stay awake beside each other with the nightlight on, no longer craving the contours and sweet of each other?

When it's all said and done, won't I just be a creep?

What if I don't become drowsy anymore around you?

When it's all said and done, won't we just get tired of each other?

I refuse to slow down even once.

*Let the afterburn match the aftermath*

Ditched by the people I used to love
Thoughts dashed apart by uncertainty
But hey, it's my life.
Lord of what I see, king of the carnivals of ruin.
On hold, is what we are.
On hold, is what we were..
I can't hold on, to an empty space.
But I've learnt to take it easy on myself.
Yeah.
The new intros.
The old rusty confessions.
The islands, the bridges now burnt.
My life and yours, in VCR.
My breath, chained in yours.
This basic space, together.
In the sunset that never came.


Her records start to screech to a halt, my tears begin drying up.
Her portrait begins turning blood red,
my foaming mouth closing up.

Awake, awaiting for your presence to bring a warm pulse shimmering in meaningful gazes.

Your portrait decays the longer I observe it.

I don't think you deserve the vibrant colours you've been etched by.


Perplexed, perhaps these are my reservations speaking.

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.

I'll rather get lost in Hell attempting to find you
I gather that being last in Heaven but walking through those gates with you is fate

Feed the insatiable hunger so that I'm victorious
Lead the sashaying young ones

We're covered by the names of lovers from pages past.

Tattered rags, and rusted chrome chains bond us, bind us.

You're my happiness in slavery.

That old familiar feeling.
Flooding back, in tunes you never knew could exist in the space it took for a breath to begin and a sigh to end.

Lightning arcs across your brain, the scars lighting up, rearranging themselves in ****** gold runes.

It's a happy noise.
It's a good noise.

The background rises and falls, in perfect harmonic distortion.

She is boundless

Eternal

Tears well up in my eyes

For her love was eternal

As time relinquished its hold over logic

And the sparks reignited frigid hearts

Returning to furnaces of courage, bravery and purpose,


She is the ocean. And she lies asleep, awaiting.

With renewed vigor

A slip of the hip

The grip of the finger

I chuckle

I've gotten myself into a pickle, it seems.

For the first time in forever

I'm looking forward to basking in the sun

In the brilliance of something greater than all my dalliances

I'm feeling it now

Actual sunlight.

This will come true

Pull me out of this pyre

Be my broken record

Repeating what I need to hear

Til I fall

Deep


Deep





Deep









For you.

Come into my arms

Against my chest, wrapped in my embrace

Nothing seems to matter now.

Through repeated patterns, a sense of familiarity

Rummage we did, through our own senses and emotions

Inside yesterday, we found today.

Perhaps, even today will be worth it for tomorrow.

Rise, ghosts of yesterday.

Show me the way so I might conquer tomorrow.

Whisper, dark forests of today.

Tell me the way through the fog so I might pass through unscathed.

Return, legions of tomorrow.

Stand by my side so I might seize the day yet.

Now repeat after me.

This is not the end of me, this is the beginning.

I'll let the fires scorch my very soul.

No more succor, no more vice.


If only to keep myself humble.

The feelings.. best not show them.
I gotta find my fix.
There I go, total blind march of the pigs.
Hey, I got another ******* high score.
I'm the best aren't I?
That feels good.
I saw her again.
**** **** **** better find my fix WHERE THE **** ARE MY EARPIECES
Oh God that feels so much better.
Mmmmghh. Feels like ***.
Haha, what a funny video!
****, is it about *****?
****** ****, wanna get ****** up?
I'm home, again.
Where is my fix?!
My phone's got to charge?! Useless *******!
*******! Pick up! OH YOU DON'T WANT TO HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ME ANYMORE?! *******! *******!
I DIDN'T MEAN TO GET SO ******* ANGRY
****
GOD I'M SORRY
DON'T ******* WALK OUT ON ME
DON'T LEAVE ME!

So you want my name then?

Which one do you want?

The one I call myself by,
Or what people call me?


Names have power.

And I'm only going to give you one.

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.

All year round struggling with innate sensory overloading.


But I kept pretending that it was all good, til it wasn't.
From the little harlots I met, to the black holes I've created.


There's no more time, for one more line to blow.
Nothing in the end resembles what I imagined it to be.


**Carpe diem quam minimum credula poste

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?

Her spindly fingers bothered me.

There I was, glaring from across the tables, teeth chittering with naked desire.


Her smile, coated with red, as the red line opened, closed with pearly white.


Picking them up like a graceful crane, and consigning them to a shadow realm I hungered abashedly for, from a corner.

Piping hot, the meat slid across her lips, proposing a grimace of both pleasure and annoyance.

Little by little, the whittled crisps went down too, with the yellow of the sun.


I really need some ******* chips now.

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.

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.

"We are defined by the choices we make."
How do we truly understand this sentence, then?
Is it the bottom of the beer bottle in which we find it?
Or the passionate afternoon with that red haired stranger?
Maybe perhaps that beautiful pointless death you bloomed within yourself.
In which case you smiled and said, "It's alright."
Maybe the breaking point was when you realised you spent conforming to avoid being branded otherwise.
Self-immolation isn't that much fun.
It began with a heart-burn.
And continued with a tussle for control within.
Til you realised you could no longer pretend you wanted both sides of the cake.
The hunter and prey.
Then you awoke.
And saw that you were no better, no less than the entirety of the roads you took.
Now this is where you made or broke.
A knife to the arm, a rope to the neck, a pill to wash it all away.
A cacophonous tremor rippling across your psyche.
And you realised.
"Do I deserve this future, death, life I've been craving for? Or are we always, sometimes monsters?"

A day with you
Let's see what it has
The anxious waiting for you to come in sight
Silhouette coming into view
And my smile, a welcome reflex
The sun comes out to greet us both
I'm happy in the sun (you)
Snakes slither across my spine
In your embrace
Cold pit, warm furnace.
Signs of hazard stop

Like coming under fire
The rain pours (shelter)
Blazing defiantly like the sun
Your touch like sugar in jam
Viscosity of this vice you hold me in
This sensation you hold me in
Entropic

After the genocide was done,
I decided to remove myself before I was incriminated.

No one could know of the premeditated sin I had prepared, as all the outcomes led me to this tearful separation.

Least I could do, was to ease the transition.

I gazed stoically upon the wasteland I created, one last time.

I'm only human, to leave.
Adorned with a crown with cracked gems and black gold.

There were no more words to say.
The gears rusted over, for their own good.

No words to collect,
Cause they lubricate.

Let's sing in tune one last time.

It's always the eyes that get me.

For a walking black hole of emotion,

I sure keep swirling back to them.

When it's all said and done with,

I've become one of the unthinking majority.

The bones ache again.

Can't seem to dislodge this knife in between my spine, either.

Her fingers form a prong pushing away an invisible form, thrusting and gyrating in rhythm, the tune I recall now to be hers.
A mix between a cheer, a call to arms, so easy for the tongue to clasp it, yet the heart is made wanting even more.
Her legs sweeping in a semi-circle, lifting the day's burdens away in elegance, in effortless effort.
I stand there, a ******, marveling more than I could ogle.
I found myself treading water, driven to her flame as a moth.
Her joints twisted and fueling the air around her, like trails that seemed to go on forever.

It's wrong. Flowers weren't meant to be picked. Beautiful things wither around me. I'm no good stay away as the moon envelopes her whole.

I can't do this. I want to.
But how is decrepitation in fashion nowadays? Her precipitation filled me with hope, that somehow, I wasn't wrong for this.

you'll always be a better dancer than me.

Her blur crashes into my windshield
But I don't raise my arms to my face
Neither do I remember how to tuck into a ball

The glazed eyes meet mine
Honey gum spills from her lips

Her revenant consumes me whole
Twitching, catatonic I become.

You'd guessed right : we grew cold the longer we weren't in touch.

Our skin's set ablaze, childishly believing we were destined.


Who would've known, the difference between lust and love?


A gnawing ache either way.

"Now, bow, dip, twist and turn."

Now, vow, lip, trust and yearn.


Are you hungry?

Time like a yarn,

Love like a dream, causing fluster,

Making bluster.


Are you in love?

Rhymes like ****,

Love licking off cream, causing blusher,

Making bluster.

**** 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.

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 simply, hungered for more than just your touch.

What other way to combine two desires into one?

What could be more natural than to consume each other?

Maybe it'll start with little kisses,

Then caressing necks.

Then giving each other lovebites.

Wearing these ****** gorgeous purple bruises as badges of honour.

Draw a tiny bit of blood, and we take one tiny step into vampirism.

But we don't lap at each other's open wounds, do we?

It's the worst kind of hypocrisy.

And passively we lay down, bleeding out.

It has been a long time since the fires flitted across my mind.

Has passion simmered down, or am I just ashes, waiting to be reborn?

It's a sad realisation,

You've pruned your own branches so that you wouldn't choke and die from stretching too far.

You're becoming ash,

You're becoming an effigy.

To your own cycle that you stepped out from.

I watched his eyes flare up like the life of a dozen young children were reflected in them.

I watched his gait change, and cycling through emotions he started to dance.

His shoulders drooped as mouth began to sag, and eyes glistened over with tears bridled.


He is my friend.


And I write this for him.

A paper cut

A ****** machete

Became a thorn on the focus

Became the pause on the focus

A wail of the wee ones

A whirl on the freeways

Became a soft smothering

Became a daft splattering.

Through the scant scratches of pain

And the breaking of reasoning

Thus the collapse of love

Aether illuminating the aftermath's gloom


We've come to realize

Life will always find a way.

Her body writhing to the rhythm of unconstrained lust

Imbibed of her soft growls and ragged moans

My own mind travelled : Their bodies/ Shuddered in his embrace
Enraptured by bliss
Lapping up his bounty

Fire, fire everywhere again.

It all burns away in his mind.

Rhythms crawl on my skin
Feelings unabashedly kiss my forehead
Sweat pours down the spine
Ah. Unrequited and flawed, a secret I'll take to church and leave there.
Getting closer yet so much more farther.
I'll never cash out on this.
Curvature of her spine calls to me, the
fingers clasping where she stood.
Never will I go through with how I feel.
She's no good for me.
And perhaps, she knows that.
Her tune starts up.
And for a moment, I only know her smile.
Unwritten and unspoken, the way I like it.
Breathe her in, and exhale.

When she told me, that I was more than this.
I fell again, and again.
I felt like I existed again.
A year shed off the veil, a dear shied off the vial.
And I heard the fire spring loose from within, a subtle grinding of gears I stopped, for fear of straying. For fear, of the pangs coming back.
I've never been kissed in that way.
The split second I felt the world sway, I just had to get more of it.
But it wasn't a real kiss.
Not one I'd dare to take anyway.
It was like Morton's Fork.
I still know, even if I run from this, one day it'll be found out anyway.
A hunger pang for the prong she bought into my life.

the hunger we all know, the hunger we supress without much success.

the moment I knew I had to stay away.
But I couldn't.

Love after all
Is the spark that falls
And ignites
Ashes long dead

This crazy stupid love.

Who would've guessed, us?

Of all people?

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?

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.

Feeding the gruel to the children at the youngest age you could.

Then tearing away the bandages that held them together, not even the scars were left.

And it seemed like they would break out of the cycle you placed them in.


Only, they were doomed to become their tormentors.

"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.

Regina meum, peccatum meum, mi domina.**

Terrifying feeling of something new.
As your lips trailed down my neck.


Terrible things I felt in my body,
As my mind fell to black.


It's a maddening twist of fate.

I'm forever yours now, aren't I?

Dancing, we go again, not unlike a carousel, spinning in place.

Memories of yesterday when you opened your eyes,

Expecting you to utter words I knew you would never speak


It's time to put this chapter to rest

The future is a white canvas


And only my will

Can leave traces on it.

I know it speaks a lot when the shards that embedded themselves into me still aren't dislodged.

Much like Tony Stark, we're both afraid of what would happen if we take them out, for as much as we would literally die if we don't take them out, we're deathly afraid of the process.

What if it goes wrong?
What if it turns out worse?

What if I become different?
And I lose my sense of purpose, the burning passion, the spark of devilry put out?


What if I'm afraid of change?

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.