I want you to give me bruises around my neck,
so that i can put you behind fear.
I hold your music in my hands,
the notes falling off each page,
i don't feel the music like I used to with you.
Eyes burning, face burning,
waking up with Kleenexes underneath my fragile body.
Paper filled with tears to hold.
Warmth in your smiles,
hatred in your eyes,
rage in your hands.
I file our disturbing memories.
This is not a home but a psych ward,
the only protection is a lock on my door.
I didn't give you permission to stroke me,
to rip me from my pride,
to destroy my only innocence.
The flowers around the house begin to die slowly,
they smell the yelling and the throwing.
A girl weeping in a corner, a memory of my recent past.
I wish I could go back to ignorance,
when all I knew was the word "light".
I don't want to hold things in anymore,
i want to let my words spill all out onto the page.
Don't want to become like you,
but am already half you.
You know what they usually don't say,
like father like daughter.
It's a black and white picture,
no more differences.
Always your shadow behind me as I look into the mirror.
Your fingerprints are on the piano,
staining the keys.
The piano is your music,
voice is mine.
The times we spend together are the times I want to rewind back,
to make them into perfection instead of what they really are,
pain and dysfunction.
I am eating up everything,
but so empty inside.
I need something more,
a touch of love from you.
You don't know me at all,
but i know everything about you.
Your heart has broken into many pieces,
spreading through your body,
you just don't show any piece of it.
Who will fix your mess when everything you touch breaks completely?
I will, I have to, since I am your other half.

I once had my mental faculties in check
And my heart’s pacemaker functioning relatively normally
Didn’t know you’d be a pain in the neck
Causing my heart to oscillate solemnly
From acute insanity to imagined bliss
Gravity’s power rendered dysfunctional
And I plunged heedlessly into love’s abyss
Evidently an amateur radical
My ego prostrated
My emotions infatuated*
Am indeed yet another statistic
Of cupid’s uncanny antics.

There are moments when it’s barely perceptible
An incessant itchy scratch creasing the soul’s walls
Culminating into sparkly luminescent smiles
Dancing eerily on a day dreamer’s visage

Or a soft pain lodged deep into the abyss of the soul
A laceration to the soul
That throbs rhythmically almost in tandem
To the heart’s diehard throb

When it’s too overwhelming a circumstance
Them eyes become awash with emotion riddled tears
Cascading in an unheralded kind of way
Down the glorious hallways of faceless facades.