I went looking for God
but I found you instead.
Bad luck or destiny,
you decide.

Buried in the muck,
the soot of the city,
sorrow for an appetite,
devil on your left shoulder,
angel on your right.

You, with your thorny rhythms
and tragic, midnight melodies.

My heart never tried
to commit suicide before.

Hear my split and bleeding cry
I can see it with these eyes
There the voice I heard
Left me lost and feeling absurd

In the darkness he assumes total control
To feed the evil in his soul
With rage he powers this killing machine
To keep his minions lean and mean

Judgment day is upon us, thats all that I know
This evil empire continues to grow
God is the one with nothing to prove
Watching and waiting for his final move

My gods fury has finally come
This empire of evil is all but done

Holding your hand was the equivalent to holding the world in my palm.
Like all I ever needed was right there, interlocking fingers with me.
Looking into your eyes was like watching the most colorful sunset in the whole entire world.
And kissing you,
was like taking my last breath before diving into the sea,
breathtaking and beautiful.

I hope you never leave.

I take a pen

I cut my wrists and bleed

My life flows onto the page

Bright red, so terribly wonderful

The mountainous peaks and unending vales of my pysche

Stretch out in a flowing river of ink

Of blood

Of my immortal soul

Of me.

I paint the portrait with hues that can not be seen

And sing with the silent voice of trees that have since been felled.

I pull you in, I take you down

I want you to drown in an ocean of ink and paper,

To become lost in the borderless forests cultivated within my mind

I want to pull you into my skull,

So you can see me how I truly am.

I want you to know how truly alive I am.

in front of the mirror, she stands and sees them on the wall, tipping along the dust
she presses coffee and rinses dishes under hot, soapy water, her eyes on that wall
then out the window
the sun winks high and the glass talks in telltale signals left by sunken reveries

she falls into slumber so deep and intuitive webbing takes over all ahead
the old Singer in the corner sits silent and awaits its timely command
then, she wakes to find all the silent trappings of caterpillar's welcome
and deep in the forest of her serene thoughts, she taps into worlds half lost to Man
too little to expect in the moonlit attic of North verdant wedged into half a heart

she lowered all the burnt offerings into the soil and gave up one prayer after the other
pulling loose the pieces into the loom, turn the wheel and spin a cloak out of suffering
all night and all the next day, the spinning proves to be substantial
and it grows

the cloak is done, it's so beautiful
and on the wall, there it shows the promise of tomorrow
she eyes that missive dumped in the wastepaper basket

so many squares overlap in the rainbowed light; the shadows play rapier games on the wall
and the night lands refreshing on spicey green and greets the walker
hurtling somnabulist takes a dip into cast reflection of unexpected calls
and on the wings of nocturnal takings, she travels yet further