The worst thing in the world
you can do
is hurt a child...  
What hurts more
than being kept away
from someone you love?

My body is the paperweight of my soul.

I'm really sick of being me, i'm sick of trying my hardest and never ever being good enough. I'm tired, mentally dead.

She is her words --
        the letters in the lines;
        the art tattooed on pages.

She is mystery --
        the secrets and signs;
        the lies and her guise.

She is astonishment --
        the curved pathways in pages;
        the plot twists on the edges.

She is sadness --
        the tracing downfall from a cliff;
        like how she fell for you.

She is madness --
        the explosion of everything;
        the collision of all universe.

She is beauty --
        the art on gritty surfaces;
        convergence of different abstractions.

She is death --
        the poison to your heart;
        the knife before your eyes.

She is life --
        the birth of vivid events;
        the breath of memories.

She is love --
        the beating of each stroke;
        the thing you have from her.

She is her words --
        the black and blue on papers;
        the prisoner of her book.

So well made
Tailored clothes
Perfect hair
It's all most real
But it isn't is it
No pain
No panic
No pleasure
No blood
No bile
Just well shaped plastic
And a chiseled smile.

water seeped through invisible cracks on the ceiling,
sprung from tiles of the floor and
trickled down in serpentine paths from the walls.
I go out that day but no one notices.
It's gradual and slow, I try to sleep it off
but when I wake the next morning I am
waist deep inside the water.
I can only feel the chill of it, the ripples as I move
around attempting to ignore it.
It feels like air.
I'm too afraid to go out and seem different to people
around me.

Days pass, I wonder if I'm hallucinating,
what's wrong with me? perches in my head.

I spent all day attempting to identify the source;
under the bed, in the cracks of my mirror,
inside my pillow but nothing.
I sit in the middle of my living room,
in the middle of the flood,
in the middle of the night,
slowly being submerge in this confusion.

I'm drowning underneath this weight as
people walk on by unaffected by this change.
I've become numb,
sleep and wake to this abysmal blue.
There's no point in anything I do.
It's insidious, entering my dreams as I
prematurely awake to another day under the water.

Jaw clenched and with anger burning in my eyes
I'll tell you.
You killed me....
Unforgivable.
Abusive.
It is repulsive.
Manipulative.
I am disgusted.
Dramatic.
I say redundant.
Symbiotic
it's pethetic.

You will always manage to trigger my gag reflex.
May death be the head that rests on your beating chest.
I will thrive on your despair and laugh when you get desperate
I will be there in dreams you don't want nobody to see
and I will just watch.
Suffer, struggle, scream.
Nobody acknowledges you. Nobody sees you.
Because that is the everlasting abyss that I dominate.
I will envelop and devour you
untill you are completely surrounded.
Then.
I'll turn my back.
and thrive.
Absolute Zero.

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