Affliction never ceasing
I lament in woe
Torturous agony
Carved into an empty husk
Sweet crimson drops
Hack my soul
Slash my heart
Slit my wrist
Cleave my body
I am mutilation
Flay me to death
I enjoy the agony
Ataxia within
Alleviate this pain
Necrosis breathing down my neck
My life is a clouded slate
Release of my demise
I wish to see the king of hell

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections

I always overthink
Leaving permanent ink
One thought
Next another
Each and every other
The constant annoying utter

You have a certain magnetism
I can't define it
I see your north and it's pointing
at my direction

I have never been this close to
falling in and out of love
within days
my heart is a stranger

I write songs to lull me to sleep
I envy the words that keep me sane
Hearing your heart beating to my voice
was all I wanted
not until yesterday

I have never been this close to you
not until yesterday you are all I want
I have never been this close to
falling in and out of love
within days

my heart is a stranger
my head is in a daze
it's raining while you're away
it's raining every day

I always thought we were the perfect match.
But matches are meant
                                   to ignite
                                         and burn out.

...