Look at you
Look at what you've become
You think this is happiness
Her under your thumb
Her resolve breaking down
The parts used to fix your life
Her medium of release
The blade of a knife
This is abuse
In its emotional sense
Using sadness and anger to manipulate and hence
It doesn't take much
To bring a state of vex
This relationships a cycle
Of pain and ***
*** only providing a temporay relief
Before our eyes are opened
To the strife and grief
Yet she defends you
Once said its problems at home
With each word in your defense
I think Stockholm, Stockholm
Since her resolve is crumbling
To ashes and dust
I ask myself whether its love or lust
Lust its loss
A fear of losing control
Like you did with another
Like you did as a whole
Thats why she"s your second
Thats why you're with her
A girl who never argues
Retaliates or infers
So you can remain in control
Keep her in a drone like state
Where her spirit is in your hands
Where you decide her fate
So I write this poem with the hope
That she will find
That a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind

The sky is empty –
I am ****** down here.
Hell is in my heart,
It is burning through my blood.
Its relentless beating, scorching
Will leave me to ashes;
I am ****** to myself.

The sky is empty –
The world is divinely alone.

Sadness greets me like a lover,
It is omnipresent, it listens, it watches
It envelopes me like a dark cloak
Its gentle familiarity
Is my favourite sin.

I clasp my hands together just to feel I am living,
That I exist in my skin.

The sky is empty –
I shed a tear,
a drop of holy water.
I have felt. I am cleansed. In the depths of my misery,
I am blessed.

It is nighttime.
I contemplate the
dark sky, with its distant stars.
I create the world again.
Let there be light, I say.