Her chariot
glimmering off
feint blue dust.
Lighting up
dwarfish torches
in the night sky.
Selene rests above
in her crescendo;
shrouded by
a gentle
spectral shawl.

She watches me,
as my weary back
relaxes on
a lonesome headstone.
They keep me company.
Selene,
a silver flask,
and my revolver.

"What could I have done
to change this fate?"
Selene remained quiet,
and stared back at me.
"What is life's essence?"
In which, still,
she replied
with silence.

The bitter
winter zephyr
rustles against
my flowing locks.
She smiles at me.
She's beaming.
She basks me
with her radiant presence.

"How did you get up there?"
Her eyebrows
arched at me.
"How did you folks
become haughty
and powerful?"
In which, still,
she replied
with silence.

The gentle winds
turns into
a roaring behemoth.
Vehemently howling
amidst pine trees
which surrounds me.
I took the last sip
of bourbon
from the ol' tin.

"How could man
swim against
Chronos' current?
How could man
muster strength
against the Fates?"
For the nth time,
she replied
with silence.

The frigid muzzle
nips my forehead.
Sweat trickles
down my temples.
I could hear
my own heart
drumming.
My hands
are shaking---
almost vibrating.
My breath
releases
sullen spirits
from this
broken vessel.

Before I closed my eyes,
Selene gleamed at me,
before hiding behind
her faint shroud.

I bowed down,
said my final prayers,
and concentrated
on my friend's
farewell kiss.


"So, long, Selene.
When, I, wake, up,
I, wish, I, would,
reek, of, sunflowers."
---
---
---.

(hello.
it has been awhile since we’ve talked
and you look better than before
i could finally see the smile
that used to be
mine

and.
i remember all of our happy memories
i’ve already left all the bad things for dead
can you please forget
all of the burden
that I’ve
said

good.
it’s better that we keep it this way
i love you too much that i’m afraid
of hurting you
all over
again.

bye.
it was nice meeting you again
i will always cherish what we’ve had
you already found someone else
and really, i am
glad.)

Hello.

You look beautiful today.

All I wish for
are nights
where my demons
refrain from
running rampant.

I want them
to sit still
and behave
as I savor
the gentle
early morning breeze.

I want them
to remain quiet
when I listen
to the sound
of nature.

I want them
to close their eyes
while I watch
the gleaming stars
from the
rooftop balcony.

Maybe one day
when everything
is in place.

A day where
I've cleaned up
all the mess
that I've made.

Maybe then
they've found peace
and would run away
with me
through mire
and tall grasses
together.

All I wish for
is to make
my soul
rest in tranquil planes.

Maybe one day.

Everyday,
I've gazed upon your enchanting visage.
Not the most beautiful of 'em all,
but there's something spellbinding
about you.
Like an iridescent pearl inside of an oyster.

Everyday,
I chant magnificent lyrics,
hoping that you could hear
harmonious melodies
that you've bestowed
unto my heart.
Beating --- slowly ---
at the march of your drum.
As if our hearts
are tethered as one;
intertwining our fate.

One hollows eve,
you've seen something special in me,
so you took a pair of scissors,
and cut my stem
from this rambunctious thicket.

I loved the feeling of your hand.
Warm, tender, yet firm.
It contrasts the bitter air
that latches onto your skin,
making its hairs stand on its end.
I could've made you feel cozy,
but sadly,
I didn't.

You took me to places
that makes my eyes water
every time I reminisce
about
us.

Do you still remember
when we went to the beach
with white sands
that feels like soft powder
on your skin?
A sunset that looks like
a vast canvass
watercolored with intricate brush strokes
of saturated rose quartz',
lilacs, and oranges.
Palm trees lined up for miles.
We've Imbibed on ardent spirits
while looking at the ravishing scenery.
How I've ached for this moment
to last
for more than one's own sweet time.

We headed off to your apartment.
After we've entered,
we took our jackets and scarves off
before heading to your kitchen.
You made hot cocoa
with tiny bits of marshmallows for you,
and iced americano for me.
We looked at each others iris'
as we talked for hours on end,
about life's devious plots.

Those eyes---
It's gentle, but at the same time,
you could see a great inferno
burning inside those scintillating garnets.
I know that it's a little unnerving,
but I'm having a hard time
resisting this unquenchable urge
to stare at it.

After our extensive heartfelt conversation,
silence filled the room.
Silence so sharp and numbing,
it could shatter glass.
In a heartbeat,
you've extended your hand,
so I held it.
Casted me a bewitching gaze
that made my heart skip a wallop.
Your cheeks turned into a florid tone,
and the nipping air
started to seem tranquil.
I could only feel this longing desire
of lovingly interweaving with your threads,
and so did you.

Stumbling about,
you dragged me into your balcony garden,
took a final look at my dilating visors,
before you started to inch towards my face, and clasped your cold, tender lips against mine.
My mind turned crepuscular,
as I held your waist tightly,
pressed my weight against yours,
and fervently kissed you
between this ragged concrete wall.

We slipped out of our clothes
like snakes shedding out of its skin,
and sprawled it all over the algid floor.
I carefully laid you on the sofa,
and gently nipped your delicate,
fragrant neck.
You dug your nails passionately
on my shoulder blades,
as I necked you from a gentle
to a rough pace.
Maybe I went too hard,
hence the noticeable congelation.
My lips slowly traced her neck,
down to her navel.
I could feel pain crossed with pleasure,
as you harshly tugged on my mane
while I gorged on your grand banquet.
We sat up and tightly embraced.
You enlaced your legs on my waist,
as I've cautiously entered your temple.
My love, we're one at last.
I could hear your gentle moans
as we heaved and weaved
through this concupiscent atmosphere
that we've invoked.
The longer this lasts, the more I could feel our bond growing stronger.

Two suns
finally reached its eminent zenith.
We laid on our backs,
desperately catching our breath
while laying on a puddle of perspiration.
We've gazed at each others' eyes,
and let out fits of giggling.

If only I knew that this would be
our final jocund moment together,
I would've savored it more.

Woke up with a note
stating that there's breakfast on the table.
Runny sunny side eggs, buttered toast,
and pan seared cherry tomatoes.
I would've ate
if you blessed me with you presence,
but I don't have the appetite
to break my fast at this instance.

I dressed myself, and grabbed my jacket
before I left.

Dusk turned into dawn,
and there's no sign of you.
I keep texting and ringing you up,
but to no avail.
I ended up falling asleep,
while looking at our pictures on my phone.

At my favorite café,
I was enjoying my morning brew,
but my vision turned blue,
when I saw you holding another rose.
Hastily, I ran up to you.
I was expecting a warm welcome,
but all I got was a cold shoulder.
You pretended that I was just another
blockhead rambling about.
After you brushed me off
and went your way,
my chest ached and my aqueducts opened to let excess tears gush out.

Every 3:00AM I wake up
to my heart thundering
and cold sweats;
turning breathing into a herculean task.
Memories starts to flood in.
I'm at my wit's end,
clinging onto the last fibers
of my sanity.

Gradually, my petals started to wilt.
Petal by petal
they fall off,
swaying in the air's gentle cradle,
before landing on autumn leaves.

Everything about you torments me,
but I'd rather stay,
than live without you.

What kind of monster are you?
You gave my world color,
when everything was monotone.
Left me without admonishment
about my cruel predicament.
Left me on the sidewalk,
feeling like trash.

Now everyday, I think about you.

Everyday, I long for you.

Everyday, I love you.

Everyday--- I'm dying slowly.

As cliché as it sounds,
I don't blame you for not loving me.
Because honestly,
sometimes,
even I find it hard to appreciate
the facade underneath.
Laughing behind layers of lies --- upon lies --- upon lies...

See,
you're a dazzling star with a bright future.
I'm a grotesque creature with lots of sutures.
To the gleaming horizon,
you can still go further.
My only domain
is this stygian abyss,
where even the golden strings
from the Heavens above couldn't pierce.
A place where crimson flowers wither,
is the only dwelling where I could slither.
As I watch you from here,
the distance
between our fingertips
grows farther.

We're beings of the same nature,
But we are of different elements.
I thought you were my savior,
but I got the bitter end of it.
In our future, I was so sure,
I cast the bait, you bit the lure,
and after you got
what you sought,
you left me.

For months on end,
I had to endure
the pain which your vocal *****
have conjured,
but rest be assured,
that one faithful day,
all of these crystalline sorrows
flowing out of my organic aqueducts
would cease to flow,
and shatter on my lap.
One faithful day,
I would find a tincture
to cure and soothe the festering wounds
that's making my core
throb in pain.
And maybe then,
death's sickly sweet allure
wafting in the air
wouldn't be tempting.

All I need is to wake up and smell the flowers.

I am never lonely
because I have shadows,
I-I mean--- friends,
and they always follow me.
ALWAYS.
They are friends,
I'm sure.
They told me so.

They talk to me.
Might be incoherent sounds.
I don't know.
I understand them though.
They're my friends.

" e &m b r ?a c e
c {}l o s +e r,
e m b r €€a c e >m • e,
<c h £ i l &d."

There is nowhere safe.
These four white walls
called home, is now graffitied
with profane symbols and words.
Even my mind's eyes are filled
with their vulgarity and lasciviousness.
They don't rest, eat nor defecate.
They used to sound
like white noise.
A deep rumble
amidst the heaving mass of a black sea.
Then, it turned into whispers.
Whispers that reverberates
throughout my dome.
"b #u t %c h e r  y o *u r s {e l f
s l i ^t y o +u r n e ]c k
u s e  r u /s t y  b l &a d e
k i =l l #s  s l o #w e r
s ~i |n k  i t  i n
s a &v o r  p a @"i n."
Sadistic bastar--- friends that
delights in my pain.
I could see them smile
as my battered spirit
pours out of my body.

Night comes,
and the moon shines brightly.
Why am I
wearing a funeral suit?
My eyes adjusts to the darkness,
and I could see thousands
of white orchids surrounding me.
The air smells sickly sweet;
akin to death,
but no.
This would be too easy.
I know what they want.
They want me to suffer.
They want us to suffer.
They're my friends.
They slowly seep out of the petals,
turning a field of alabaster into rust.
Slowly creeping in on me.
Gurgling,
as they flash me their coruscating,
jagged teeth.
It almost reminds me of star-filled skies
that we used to watch.
Back then when there was silence;
true silence. Tranquility.
Their slick, black tendrils
licks, then latches onto my skin.
It coils from my feet,
all the way through my face.
I could feel it pulsating.
Beating at the pace of a heart.
It feels warm.
It looks so beautiful.
Too beautiful.
I can't resist the urge.
We kissed.
Oh, God!
Whatever might happen to me,
please have mercy.

Morning comes,
you'd strip your suit,
wear your "normal, productive
member of society" clothes
and make a convincing smile
like nothing ever happened.
But still, something feels different.
You can't get rid of it, can you?
You would if you could.
I know.
Trust me.
I know, because I have tried.
The ominous feeling of being watched.
Even the sweet, aromatic cup of mocha
you cherish every morning
seems murky and unforgiving.
Staring into the temperate abyss
around my palms,
you find that the abyss,
stares also unto you.

"m i &g h t  n o )$t  h e $a @r m e
                                  l o !d g ?e d
        d e ;e p  i /n s i <d e.
                       d ^a r k ><n e s s,
        w £h e ~r e  y o •u  b £e l o €n g.
c _a n t  e >s c •a p e
i  l =u ~r k
             i n  e ^v ' r y  s •h a •d e
                      i n  m u }{g
c o %u l d  s e #e  e y *e s
          d e e +p
                              e m %p t y
        a l m o @s t  l ;i k e  m ?e.
   a l )(m o s t.
                          b !r o •o d
                 r )e s t
                       f e @a s t
    b &r e $e d."

It would be better off
if they just left you lifeless.
I don't see the point in living
in this ******* anymore.
Everyday is the same;
an endless episode of
torment and misery.
If my heart had eyes,
I would have drowned
in tear infused blood
countless times by now.

Everyday you die.
Everyday you're alive but not living.
Everyday you die.
Everyday you drag yourself
through shards of glass.
You want to say that you're used to it,
but in all seriousness, you're not.
You never will.
One could never be used to this kind of suffering.
Physical wounds will heal, but the darkness is eternal.
It remains as your soul's scars.

"Maybe if you slept just for long enough we would leave.
Maybe we would get tired
of picking on a tired soul.
Maybe.
But maybe is better than nothing.
It's been years since I came to you-----
and I've relished each and every
sweet memory we had together.
After all, I am your friend;
and dusk is already setting."

I've got a lot of friends,
but I don't hear from them;
not anymore.

I've met them all
last summer.
Let's just say
it was in a cabin.
Let's just say,
maybe,
it's now their coffin.

Lately, I've been getting phantasms.
I've been seeing them
staring back at me,
white,
blank,
starry eyes;
standing amidst
tall colonies of wild grass.
When the sun
changes its hue into black,
it sends a frightful shiver
down my spine.
Their bodies morph
into a demonic *******
of an amorphous blob
with several human legs
and slick tendrils
pouring out
off their orifices.
Their eyes sinks back,
their brows and lashes shed,
their eyelids seal shut.
Out of their mouths
emerges a fist-sized eyeball.
Their skin secretes
inky mucus
which fuses them together.
Then they begin to chant.
I couldn't make sense
of their eldritch gibberish
blasphemies at first,
but after you get used
to the terrors they spew,
you could hear them saying,
"Nyarlatothep heeded
thy call.
Nyarlatothep heeded
thy call.
Nyarlatothep heeded
thy call."

Months have passed since.
I just want to tell my lovers,
that their slumber
is for the betterment
of all existence.
The sky looks
like an eternal void;
devoid of life.
The Black Pharaoh
reigns in the cosmos.
All hail Nyarlatothep.

You've set a bar that none could reach,
Left me wounds only you could stitch,
I could usually resist torture, but I got this flaming itch,
That I got in your orchard, later dumped in a grimy pitch.

Haunted by memories of the past,
A shadow weeping in the halls,
Floating around the corners,
Reminiscing our sunny, grassy knolls.

Conflicted by a silent raven,
With a song that shakes your core.
There will never be another maven,
That could manage this dusty store.

I wish that I could say that I don't love you,
But that would be a lie.
Hiking down a mountain of needles,
Isn't as easy as pie.

Just know that when I don't say I love you,
I love you.

She is a mistress
that I call home.
Her frigid embrace is what I feel
when I'm completely alone.
Her deep,
dark
beady eyes
tantalizes,
and hypnotizes.
I try to move,
but I realize that I'm paralyzed.

Propped up in a purple velvet chair,
Her frost-bitten fingers
gently caresses my cheek.
Tears trickle down my tired eyes,
as she whispers agonizing melodies
down my ears.
Bliss and sorrow disappear after morrow.
Nothing is real but pain.

Long,
sharp nails
dig deep on my neck,
allowing a torrential downpour
of elegant sanguine essence.
Drained,
numbed,
dressed in a scarlet dress,
yet --- I could still feel her presence.
Laughing,
mocking me.
My lungs burn
as I desperately gasp for precious air.

My eyes roll back into my head,
with my mouth gaping wide.
Black tendrils bursts forth from my chest,
and asphyxiates me
'til the white crow
hops out of my vile maw
and flies away.
Away from this valley
of perpetual penumbra,
honey-less bees,
and barren apple trees.

She places a jeweled crown of thorns
on my head,
and hums me a woeful lullaby.
I shut my eyes,
and pus-riddled blood
starts to ooze out of my sockets
as I silently cry.
Then could I only remember
that I am the ruler of this domain.
This is my home,
this is where I reign.
No matter how hard I flee
from this bitter pandemonium,
she will always be in this conundrum,
as stubborn as corundum.

Now I remember who you are.
The memories fade,
but the feelings stay.
Stained emotions in the spectrum of gray.
A speck of rust on the Holy Grail.
You never fail to show when moments are stale.

My hinges crackle,
as I lift my left arm,
and erected my decomposing index finger towards Her direction.
Our eyes meet once again.
A furious conflagration
starts to emanate from my chest,
and extends to my extremities.
The silken blindfold starts to peel off.
I am finally free.
I am no longer bound to her reins.

A ****** of crows flock around me,
and circles around my throne;
displaying a magnificent show.
Feathers gleaming under the winter sun.
Feathers as flexible and strong
akin to a rapier.

They perch all over my body,
feasting on fattened maggots
and dead tissues.
Their wings flap in unison,
clearing the bitter air,
yielding warmth.

The rugged gale
forced dark clouds to drift.
Darkness' veil starts to lift.
Sharp,
ebony blades sprouts on my back,
forming wings.
Leaves emerge,
and flowers bloom,
on my crown of bramble.
What was once dull nails,
are now deadly talons.

She begged for mercy
when I stood from my throne.
Trembling at the majestic sight.
I strangle Her using my gaze,
and with a flick of a finger,
I commanded them to devour my assailant.

Her shriek echoed
throughout the valley,
'til she was no more.

She's destined to return,
for she is an extension of my soul,
and I am Her keeper.
She knows
to be wary
of the King of Crows.

In a black box lies a mirror,
With a reflection, a blank stare.
Pupils as dark and hollow as obsidian,
Oh, I wish that someone would just care.


Tormented by my own oblivion,
Skin flushed in the tone of crimson,
As the walls start to bleed,
Please be my salvation,
For I am in desperate need.


Its footsteps nearing,
After it consumes a vast, green clearing.
Any sign of vitality is leaving.
Leaving nothing in its wake.
This is the moment that I'm fearing.


All is lost when hope is just an illusion,
When you see its ghostly apparition,
Grinning at you in the distance,
Mocking you with no resistance.
Fading like empty promises.

Under the opaque veil of misery,
Nothing is real. Everything is a lie.

Everyday seems like
the worst of the worst.
What have I done
to be placed
upon this curse?
I swore at the sun.
I swore at the air!
I've never found,
solace,
a n y where.

I don't know where to go.
I don't know where I am---
it seems.
Please,
wake, me, up,
from, this,
dream.

Everyday seems like
the worst of the worst.
I've toiled and toiled
under the beating rays
of a wrathful sun
to quench this
vehement thirst.
I swore at the moon.
I swore at the rain!
I don't know
what will roll first.
My tears, or this droplet
on the windowpane.

I don't know where to go,
I don't know where I am---
it seems.
I, just, want,
to, wake,
up.

But then a gentle
sunflower is what
I saw.
Winter's icicle shards
began to thaw.
A rainbow coalescence
of dreams in paw's reach.

Everyday seems like
the worst of the worst.
Then everything changed
when we
met.

I don't know where I am!
I don't know where to go---
it seems.
Yet I feel like
I'm, at, home,
with, you.

I hope you feel
the same way
too.

Hovering over that loving smile,
I could see a gossamer veil.
It becomes overwhelmed
by your radiance,
yet sometimes it just shows.
A thin shroud in the hue of indigo
and a blue lace as its trim.

Hovering over that loving smile
is an overwhelming lie.
I know that you are enfeebled---
because of I.
Because you see the beauty
within my faults
and my weary soul.
I know that I could never repay
the overwhelming debt
I've placed upon you.
You wear the veil of deceit
not because you want to.
You wear that piece of fabric
just to show us that we're strong
and you love us deeply.

The voices
inside your head
are the honest thoughts
of your soul.

"Eve's Diary"

Within your deep eyes lie a galaxy.
A heaving sea. Undertows, and eddies.
An undulating undine in abyss
blanketed by dead stars and those who gleam.

She faced cataclysmic adversity,
and she fell from the cosmic nursery.
She lost her skin of lustrous ebony,
gradually turning burgundy--- to flesh.

And soon she lost her memory,
and everything was in haze.
Destined to walk for all eternity
and marvel at this once tiny, blue marble,
which she saw from space.

We see seething beasts
inside, and out of our mind's eye.
Yet, sometimes,
when the furnace within dies,
the constant pounding
on the glass door halts---
and then it creaks.
"I've been keeping you out
too long, my ol' friend.
(Let's have a talk
beside these dying embers
of mine.)

Sometimes,
I would like to rest my eyes;
take a deep breath;
enter my sarcophagi.
My happy time machine.

Awaiting for the time
where I
would find myself happy,
and only happy.

Gone of the days:
When I treat my lungs like a chimney.
When I poison myself up to my limit.
When I get hurt because of love.
And when I would gaze upon myself
in the mirror,
I would find myself,
to be the man that I wanted to be.

Wish.
I could only wish.
My time capsule seems to be busted.
It used to work,
but it is now rusted.
Exhausted.
Exhausted, of being exhausted.
Exhausted, of being myself.
Exhausted, of existing.
But with enough wishful thinking,
I think I would arrive at my destination.
Someday-----
I wish sunflowers never wilt.

Maybe they leave me
because I don't just love.
I crave.

I give more
than what this vessel
could offer.

But they---
they just waste it all.

Is it too much?
Is giving all your time,
effort,
and soul
too much for them to bare?

I gave it all, you see.
So don't blame me
if I turned into this---
hideous monster.

I'm tired of nights
where I cry
myself to sleep.

I'm tired of nights
of pointless fighting.

I'm tired of nights
of overthinking
what if's.

I'm tired of
unreciprocated love.

But needless to say,
I thank you.

Thank you for teaching me
that you could love
without being loved back.

Thank you for teaching me
that everyone's expendable;
so that I won't latch
from any abuse.

And most definitely,
I thank you
for breaking me apart.
Because hey,
I won't be where
I would be standing today
if it wasn't for you
desecrating my heart.

Honestly, I don’t know
If I’m scared of you
Or am I scared of myself
But all do I know is that
You make me really glad
That you exist
In the same space
Where I breathe

There is something about you
That stirs up the cauldron inside
And the bubbles and colors;
Those that which
spark from this elixir
lights up the hollow places
in which the brightest rays
of the sky, the stars, and the moon
can’t even reach

but an alchemist once told me
that if you love someone,
one should never doubt oneself
and one should love
to the fullest extent of your capacity

which is why from this day onward
I will reach my hand into that
Volatile concoction inside my soul
And watch my hands shrivel
Until I can’t feel no more.

Here, take this knife.
Carve these eyes out, dear stranger.
As a matter of fact, remove this heart
from its humid chamber too.
because all I could see now is sin,
and that heart had been passed around.
too much.
and it had lost its.
worth.

take these and put it to good use.
so maybe then, dear stranger,
I wouldn’t have to wash away
the howling coldness
in the middle of my chest
with the warm surge alcohol
instead of her pleasant embrace.

oh, I almost forgot, dear stranger.
extract this flesh etched up inside my throat
for it only spouts lies. after lies. after lies.
just like one time.
i promised her about our future.
about how fun it would be.
now i’m here.
and she isn't.

i just don’t want to feel anymore.
please, take care of these.
Please, take care of me.
i don't know how to take care of myself.
without taking care of you.

darling, don't look at me
with those sullen eyes
that makes me realize
all the mistakes
and all the lies that I've done.

all i could see
is a lifeless body
surrounded by
strobing hues
of red and blue.
if only i was happy.
if, only, i, was, happy.

it makes me guilty
that i didn't
have strength to stay.
i should've had
the guts to say
that I do love you,
but i couldn't handle
all that pressure,
all that stress,
and the looming thought
that I am a mess,
and is beyond repair.
so I decided to go away,
and closed the door---
forever.

don't fret,
for this would be
the last time you'll
argue where we'd eat.
the last time you'll
get mad at me
for smoking too much.
the last time you'll cry,
until you die.
but for now,
please,
play this gray serenade
on my grave.

Why do we have to live?
Who placed us in this mess?
There are a lot of questions in my mind,
but please aid me in this quest.

I don't see anything
inside this blinding dark.
This heaving mass surrounding me,
is swallowing my heart.

Its cold, amorphous hands caressed me.
It wiped away my tears.
With all these evils around me,
which one should I fear?

All I know is nothing.
I've learnt that from the start.
But the only thing I'm sure at,
is that the sun hides all the stars.

Every night I think of sweet, sweet release
I look around and see this room turn grey
And now I’m bound by the ceiling’s long leash
Then it all goes silent as I go pray.
"Can you hear me? I’m lost. Don’t be a brute!"
"It’s cold! I’m scared! I could hear the Night Hounds
Sniffing the air around this strange fleshy fruit."
And the devil comes in and makes his rounds.
“What have I done to you? I’ve made no qualms.”
“Look here, Puppet of Flesh. Did you do this?”
“What if I did? The world does not spare alms.”
“Don’t be hasty. Be glad this swing’s a miss.”
I greet Morning with the usual deep sigh.
At least I could rewrite the things I’ve scribed.

I didn't picture my day
turning out this way.
These four
decrepit walls
seem like it's spinning
like a carousel
in this calloused hell.
Maybe I should stop this.
Maybe I should refrain myself
from letting my vices
write my own memoir.
But I can't.
Not soon, and definitely,
not now.

Behind this fortress of brown bottles,
and stacked up cartons of cigarettes,
I feel safe.
I feel like I'm home.
I feel like nothing could cause me harm.
Nothing, could, harm, me.
Right?

The air around me reeks of burnt rubber.
I've imbibed for hours,
that I can't even hear my own thoughts.
I, must, be, safe.
I'm pretty sure of it.
It was always safe,
when I cannot be myself.

Never have I imagined
that it would turn out this way.
My lungs and my liver
wrings my insides
whenever the intoxication dissipates.
What should I do?
I could hear my friends
scampering about
on crepuscular corners;
Knocking on the door,
every time that I'm sober.

It's hard to breathe,
but it is harder
when you don't want to breathe.
Let this all end!
Don't let me get embraced by my friends!
I don't know if they are "them",
or if they are "I";
But for my sanity's sake,
please keep them away from me.
Please.
I'm already at my wit's end!

There! I could see them!
Looming on the corners of my sight!
Sneaky little pests. Heh.
You won't get into my head.
Just, one more bottle, I guess.

When God said,
"Let there be light!",
I guess His fingers slipped,
and missed my heart.

tonight, the tides are rising;
and cold waves brush against my skin.
it makes me feel love.
it makes me feel loved,
as i drift away towards the sea.

i could feel your aqueous hand
trace its way up to my chest.
can you feel my lips
when you touch my heart
with words still left unsaid?

“do you love me?”
“do you still love me?”
as i inhale the salty water
and drink air as if it were my last.

my fingers extend towards lucent rays
as i plunge beneath the bitter depths.
does it love me?
does it still love me?
this gentle asphyxiation numbs my pain.

i close my eyes, and i could see you
beaming with a smile that was mine.
it says it loved me;
and now you’re happy.
while i’m here, all alone
fighting these air bubbles
fluttering out of my eyes.

Sometimes,
when I brush my teeth
before I go to bed,
I stare at a man
that stares back at me.

Sometimes,
I see him happy;
but,
it makes me
feel--- unease.
When he does smile,
I could see it
in his eyes.
Just above
his dark circles
and the milky white
of his sclera,
and inside the pupils,
I could see him caged.
Standing in the middle
of four walls
with decrepit wallpaper.
Grasping a bottle of *****
with his left hand
and a lit cigarette
in between
his middle
and index finger
on the right.

Sometimes,
I could see him
inside that room;
still,
with *****
and cigarettes.
But now,
he's on a stool.
Flies buzzing
around him,
with his innards
wrapped around
his neck.

Sometimes,
I wish
I could help him.

Sometimes,
I wish
I could kick the chair.

Maybe I should love you for the second time
Darling, I’m quite used to have my heart passed around.
And maybe when we touch I’ll feel whole again.
Maybe. Maybe.