for so long you
lead me by the hand
convincing me that I'm almost there.
that the sleepless nights you diagnosed me with,
would heal.

if you had only told me those visiting demons,
were once yours.
so I didn't have to waste my night ******* time concealing
and disguising your distressed nightmares.
since then they've been amongst the dust
which I swallow in my sleep.
then in the morning awake, with the taste of you
gritted in my teeth.

before you contemplate that sharpened knife,
that is not ****** to other skin
- and sensually slit me open
from the neck.
my last tears that dilute with red will
vainly stain your pail shirt.

let me diffuse through your cold skin
so the knife that hovers above me
won't erase my trace.

staring at this mirror
I feel you approach at my shadow
trailing the knife.

my time cut short.
to save my guts from splitting,
I purge out all your substance that I had consumed.
with it, out came the bottled voice you raided me for
every night when you were dry with thirst.

eyes whisper to mine
that this wasn't your intent.
but I disagreed when red ran down my spine

all I can ever ask,
is promise me you'll play this on your  record
to yourself
when you're alone - before you sleep.
blanketed in blackness.
and your veiled demons begin to lurk
when they tune into your open void.

chords ******
apparitions of me pervade the ambiance
the rolling base
that rings through you veins
and those lyrics that seem to melt into your blood.
which drips,
drenching the demons that are wading to ****** you slowly.

I couldn't say that
I didn't **** myself they same.

you ***** it in so easily,
it's always been there - holding on by its last edge.
but you twist it in further and further.
until its impaled,
because now it seems you've broke through already
as its slowly piercing, infecting;
invading my every layer of sense.

so you're chirping away at me,
so ghostly
because your presence lacks.
but see, you're ruthless
with that cradled hammer
that you clutch in your left
as your right mangles in empty air.
you're pounding it,
down into my skull.

tell me, because I don't know
when your hand will stop its manic.
and I don't know how much,
you desire to poison me.

see, I don't even know
if you watch the way in which you
compose your hands to ravage
deeper and deeper
into this head of mine.

i float on a frozen surface,
as my heart bathes
in a stench
of streaming lonesomeness.

I need to show you, the way that
you are slowly
hammering, pounding, crumbling me
into ashes.
That I know will only hopelessly scatter behind you
as you leave again.

Write you a book,
with as many pages as days,
that you have imprinted my dreams.

Frame every single photo in my heart,
which you have seen through your eyes.

Extract this turmoil,
which hurls in your blackened head.
And then fold it neatly by my bedside,
unfold each crease gently
and feed it pure, back into you.