how many times have I sat in a cafe alone

empty chairs to keep me company.

with a brave face, and tensed brows

trying to look past the hazy blur that
seems to have caught me in trance.

sipping on the bitter coffee to remind me there's something to live for

and finish before I leave here, be gone for maybe what could be my last time

of sitting alone in a cafe, of people and chatter to keep me company,


I used to like it here.

between, there lies my burden
on my knees i am but a servant

serving at your feet as i've done
a thousand times before

swollen gaze
resting upon your eyes

i can't flinch
and catch me by surprise  

bound in chains, kissed by
******* --

i want to taste your
addictive lies

corrupted conscience
lost in sermons

you're so vindictive it'll
never suffice

you and i cannot
survive

in this malfunctioning
world

spiralling through summer
as it grows

into autumn, uncertain,
of the winter that passes by

in that weakness i find myself
drawn to you

in your arms of ruthless
subversion

suffocate me with your
fruitful diversions

the more i am awake
more it worsens

i'm barely alive haunted
by desertion

desperate for an escape
from this burden

yours even   ever after,
i am truly yours.

beacon of hope
emarald heart of mine

frolicking in
ruins

in a transparent
hue

pretending to be
smoke

running amok
in the golden fields,

forcing the winds;

and you can see
heaven when

the sun falls
seared

every dark hour

and the beacon
of hope,

becomes me.

look at home,

the night is dark
and yet forgetful

warm room with
bodies sound asleep

cosy air breathes
through the windows

as the leaves fall
somewhere in the future

and a rainy day
is on the offering

carelessly stoking
arms of the clock

it's a shelter still
this warm room

filled with things
that will be --

old and dying,

as the leaves fall
somewhere in the future

for enough springs have
come to pass

now that i sit here
looking at old photographs,

visiting home.

watch me as i suffocate
at the corner

of this malfunctioning
room

where all thoughts come
to die

and decompose into
boarded windows

and cracked walls

old and vast
traveling as i have

circling me as i
draw a line

ever further from
me


\PART-2||


cold blue eyes
stare at me

from between the
spaces

and there's no place
dark enough to hide


\PART-3|


there's a grave divide
in my smile

of all those things
i couldn't whisper

and bring to life

always breathing colours
into the corpses

making love to the ideas
in my folding head

unbecoming of the caught
dread

that grows into new days
and old nights

witnessing the many storms
that have knocked on my door

to lure me out in
the open

where the world can
haunt me

possess my conflicts
and scars

it's alright if i die

here, and now

in this endless moment
that we live in

and call home

where everything's pretty
all the time,

malfunctioning.

i am small
barely enough to live
another day

i am weak
brittle bones afraid
of being betrayed;

and when i scream
i pretend they're all
here with me inside
my broken mind

maybe it's all a dream
maybe not,

how can i tell
when i'm barely alive ?

i'm too scattered
to fight this settling calm,

i can't sleep
maybe it's in my head

and i can feel it in
my arms --

unsettling my veins,
and in my frozen tears

it's circling inside
of me, always, right here

when the blackness
swirls and swarms;

and it's the same
despair that

i've bled now,
so many a times;

caught in my
storms

far from
the giving sun

to be so old
when i'm young

i am numb and
forever dying

so cold
like the last night,

that i spent with
my eyes wide open

trying to find meaning
in the shadows that
move across the walls

dancing in stark
darkness,

there's something here
in this room with me that
does not exist

or has ever spoken

and yet i hear it breathing
down my neck,

i can taste the whispers
that have made a home
in the deep of my skin,

i can feel my mind
fighting the dread, the dead
and everything inbetween,

and i love this hurtful
existence, i'm in love with
the flames,  

i've known nothing else
and nothing else can be the
same as this pain --

it's strange how much
we fight the things we cannot
explain,

there's this white noise on
the other side of the world
we'll never learn how to
contain --

and it'll seep through
our cities and thoughts

in the same wilderness
as i once was;

you'll just be as weak
and small

as we've always
been,

no rain nor fire
or rivers or trees

just us free,
drowning forever.

tonight i see no stars,

tonight the deep black has swallowed what little's left of the world

tonight there's nothing out there to look down upon me from the distance

and she's not here to fold into my arms to comfort my soul

tonight i see no stars, i see no ghosts sailing in the eastern winds

i don't hear the city mourn with its lost lovers and young pain

there's melancholia at every corner filled with silence it cannot contain

maybe there's more to this nothingness that my eye's cannot explain

tonight i see no hope for tomorrow and i don't wait for the promised sun

i'm sitting here in this silent room while the lonely road goes on --

i'm waiting for the birds to sing and break me away from this lonely hour

but it's still an eternity between me and the sounds of the living

and i don't have the comfort of the sky of reminding me how small i am

and smaller still, whatever that ills me and keeps me awake

as i stay still fighting the wilderness that has made a home inside of me

i wonder about distant planets those that exist for nothing

i wonder if they know of my pain, if they know what it means to live with a broken heart that never smiles --

i wonder if there's someone somewhere awake just as i am;

i wonder if his night is filled with stars.