I am kind to others
I am good to my friends
I am open hearted and loyal
I like to make everyone feel comfortable
I am smart but I don’t make others feel small with it
Or I don’t like to anyway, and I’m sorry if I ever did.

I am not good at knowing what I want all the time and
I am sorry for that, I am a very selfless person, and I hate
Using the word ‘I’ too much, so I have contradicted my own  
Philosophy.

Considering some scribbling to figure everything out, I expect to either be entirely burnt by this fire,
or to be defined by it. Whatever it is.

It burns. Love, anger, passion-
what is in this heart, old and black?
as I lay in this, my heath of images-
all warping and swirling above my bed,

and death haunts and linger in the corner of my eye,
and I realise large parts of my lie,
and I am cold to the bone,
fattening like a pig by the day,

I shall be as poe, dying slowly day by day -
amongst the red red roses, lank hair and morbid tone.
Synthetic whisper in the woodland greet,
I ran, I could not stop, meek to the core.

Entombed in happiness, quiet and forever unspoken
she lets me down, she will never cease.

I am Vampyre, and so is she.
soon to be-
******,
Eternally.

I am but air
in this hall of-
unreason

And I am square with myself;
I am alive, I do not breath
yet, I do and I must,

see-
the light
because I am the light and so are you,
you are there in all black dressed,
to the nines in the curtain rail twirling in the background.

I don't know what it means,
that's why they call it poetry.

He's a self indulgent pig, a *******
you should of seen from the start,
I stared at him but did not judge,
though I did silently;
choosing to believe
the lie you sold yourself -
but he still did it anyway, didn't he?

'Thwack'
The Pig squeals

"A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
We all fall down"

In that moment you should of ran,
faster than any muscle of man,
but you didn't did you? You made excuses, covered his tracks,
"He's sorry"
tell me where are you now?
hmm, Where are you now?
I ponder with pen at this late hour.

Irrelevant,
Is he Man?
Or an Obscene NurglePig-
"Worse than that, so End it" I said.

"He's sorry"

My eyes rolled deepset and ****** into the back of my head
for a lifeless eternity;
when those words left your lips,
I saw how weak you could truly be-
It horrified me.

The weakness of women, just another broken dame;
If I still yet had a heart that pulsed
I'd chuckle, Grimly, then maybe
- cry alone to forgot,
Thanks for that.

If you want a blunt that doesn't bruise - Truth.
Formless of agenda,
swallow this pill and listen;

Let's see-
you didn't run did you?
You stayed clawed to floor,
I had to soothe your sores, and talk;
Listen to your woes, another year.
of tolerating presence, burning eyes,
burnt.

I'm not sorry for what he did, if it wasn't me why would I be?
Maybe not so much now. I buried it, It's forgotten, sadly buried,
another woman's secret I'll add to my portfolio;
something that somehow become my responsibility to bear.
Guess what- stopped caring, Keep your own, Adults.

There will come a day I won't be at the bottom
of the stairs he threw you down,
commonly scarred and mottled, broken in my garden,
Weeping, the reasons plainly evident -
a piglet's insecurity.

And I'll just be standing there in a dark room beating his filthy
******* face into a puddle of pulp,
then the pulp into a puddle,
then the puddle to chunks for the endless void,
grab that final chunk of flesh and throw the empty
carcass to the ******* dogs.

The dead pig revealed, screaming in agony
pathetic red stain on the floor,
more gore than the heaviest flow.
How's that for a show?
Best show ever, Period.

Bye for now, and don't take me for a fool;
Your compassionate tool-
Because I am not that,
and neither are you.

I can feel my heart dying
it's pulse weakens
as I lay in this,
filth;

My life -
I understand
to be man,
I must **** my heart
raise it like a Mayan god
and give into the grey
it can end no other way -
I am a dog, not a man.

Men at bars cuddle their Mothers,
though the membrane of the woods smothered,
Soul drowning to find ache, curt
and half cut, been there - hurts
lost soul, he stares into nothing.

Who is he? Choking
silent clock descends, lowers
his spirit, that noir beast dreams,
he begins to lurch,
compelled move on, yet frozen
ice to the pool, cement in steel.

One has a degree in Physics,
the other in Computer Science
Both have Bipolar 1
struck now from Societies grasp
Valued less than paupers
so self fulfilling be.

"We are your future" they
whisper angrily under bated breath
as finance Cabal wonder kids in
******* mausoleums sneer and jeer
in their prisms of skill and bone.
One million pound bonus just for doing their job
whilst we remain alone, penniless poets.

There is no justice, change
or before you know it we'll
change it whilst you
sleep, recombine the singularity
tuned into our frequency,
change. Or you'll feel the snap
of your Reptile necks.