You say that your heart is a cage ,
Then let me be the one
that gets tamed inside
You say that your heart is a cage ,
Then let me the one
that pulls away those iron bars , sets you free
teaches you
how to love oneself again....

I know,
ten dollar bottles of whiskey
and cartons of Marlboros,
are certainly a way to accelerate my untimely demise.
But women,
now that'll be the death of me.
Underneath the drunken stupor
behind the walls of smoke;
I'm fragile as any fabric.
I can only be cut and sewn so many times...
Alas,
as with all my vices;
the whiskey,
the drugs,
the cigarettes,
I'll dive head first into the next one.
Give it my all.
Take it or leave it,
you'll have the best and worst of me.
And when you leave it,
I'll sew myself back together,
just one more time...
And it'll be on to the next one,
until I die.

Dancing back from the graveyard

All the rushes of the elements of life and nature coming back into me
I wasn't dead when I was buried alive
I was put through a misery to undergo a brittle pain that kept on breaking and mending every inch of the time ...
Voices that haunted me six feet under ••••••

Scared ?
Of the dark and the
demons of the night.
Burnt ?
From the flames
licking my bedroom
walls and skin.
Voices ?
Couldn't stop them
from haunting me.
Insane ?
The pain drove me
to that.
Afraid ?
Of being alone in this
never ending war.
Love ?
It pulled me by the
hand to the light.
Kisses ?
They put out the fire
that left me burnt and
bruised.
Poetry ?
It rolled down my arms
and thighs the minute
your eyes locked on
mine* ~

You don't want me to forget you
Don't you worry that will just be a myth for you
You dagger me straight into my heart ,
Kiss me and throw me a dungeon
Left as a stray and to rot
You show your warmth ,    
By laying me over a sheet of ice .
ohh ! You just showyour affection so right ...
Carve into my body so deep with all your artisan skills so bright .
You splatter salt as a paint to make it look more beautiful .
I am left there still and scarce ,                                        Your fear of oblivion is a good and disastrous in its on way    
Even without the winds gushing  
I Feel all the turbulences in my head  
You shake the very definiens of the word , obsession .