I swear
There’s nothing wrong
With me.
I swear
I am alright

I swear
I don’t need
Therapy.
Swear I haven’t
Lost my sight.

I swear
The voices are
My own,
And my will
To shun is strong.

I swear
That I’d be
Left alone,
If I listened
To their songs.

I swear
My grasp
On reality
Is flawlessly
In tact.

So why
Is it
That in my dreams
My thoughts
Can hold me back?

Why is it
That when
I blink
My dreams begin
To speak?

And why is it
That in my
Brink
The voices
Start to leak?

I swear,
I swear,
It isn’t true.
I haven’t
Lost my head.

I swear,
I swear,
I never knew,
I way,
I can’t be dead.

I swear,
I swear,
I’m in control.
I never
Let them even sigh.

I swear,
I sear,
Trust me, I know,
That why I
Almost never cry.

“Why so sad, Poet?
Why don’t you cry?

What’s so bad, Poet?
How do you lie?

Why so dark, Poet?
Why hide from the light?

Why so weak, Poet?
Just stand up and fight.”

But the Poet moved not,
Not a foot, nor an inch.
His breath never faltered,
And his eyes never flinched.
He just sat in his silence,
As he let his mind wander,
And he answered as such,
Though he thought it as sonder:

“I am not sad,
I’m a poet, that’s it.

Nothing is bad,
Not even a bit.

I don’t hide from the light,
I just live in my shadow,

And there’s no reason to fight
With the quarrels so shallow.

I’ve no reason to live,
And none to die either,

So I write down my thoughts
And I hope that the readers

Can wait for the day
I choose one or the other

And look past my pain
Until my eyes lose their colour.”

And never again,
Was the Poet
Questioned.

I’ll tell you the truth,
Your world will break.
All you had thought you had known in your wake
Will fall apart,
And in the end
Your broken heart will fall.

I’ll tell you a lie,
Your fate holds true.
Everything which you had thought you had knew
Will lose its stride,
You cannot hide
From the cacophony of calls

From the end
Of the Judgement Hall.

So long ago,
A boy confessed his love.
                                                                ­                                     So long ago,
Yet she still remembered,
          And she was disgusted.

The sound that resonated as she vomited
Lasted
            for
        months,



Though, she has been long gone.

To see is to lie,
I’ve Closed my eyes
To truthful cries they tell.
No one to trust,
Deaf ears save rust,
In darkness, lone I fell.
To hell I’m cast,
I’m falling fast,
I feel awfully cold.
Suddenly, limbs,
They wrap my chest
It’s from they I wish to hold.
Their arms of warmth,
Are arms to trust,
At least, that’s what I’m told.
At least, that’s what I’m told.

Red rivers send shivers that leave me aquiver
In my bed- what I said would get to her head and
Bite marks grow dark as the greedy soul harks
On my words as the birds sing unheard.

It's morning, not mourning the time we had lost.
It's now dawn, the night's gone for that was the cost
That we paid, for love made it all worth the ending
Of day- for I say on the next we'll be fending.

The love is still there but the lust in the air
Is gone from this place as rest shows its face
And when we sleep past noon, the sun as our moon,
I'll pull her close tightly, cause I love her.
And I'll wait for you idly, my lover.

No taller than a child,
And built like a scrap of cloth,
But stranger still,
Were her dead eyes and face.
It was like her soul had departed.

She shouldn’t have had such eyes.
She shouldn’t have lost what she had.
She shouldn’t, but I still asked,
Though I shouldn’t have.

“Do you want to die?”

A time passed.
I doubted she heard my words.
She shouldn’t have wanted to.
And she didn’t.
That’s good, I suppose…

Often I find it
Hard to tell if
I am suffocating,
Since the fetid scents
Of ghosts and ghouls
Are so intoxicating.

They wrap my head
Tenaciously.
I forget how to breathe.
My throat is tied,
My lungs, they writhe
As carbon starts to seethe.

I feel my blood
Howling in pain
As air around me boils.
Feel my heart thump,
Only to stop
And force my muscles’ coil.

The friction tears
Through beating skin,
My blurring senses wane.
My rotting mind
Induces haze
And thoughts are none but vain.

Losing focus,
Losing time,
Feeling the world just pass me by,
I feel that as
I fall from here
I’ve abandoned my design.

My pain’s replaced
With deafened peace,
A fraction of the abyss.
And lying there,
So restlessly
Leaves no room to reminisce.

When the world ended,
There was nobody,
Well, not to blame at least.

We all know
It was our fault
For trying to tame the beast

That was each other;
The ones above us,
Who enjoy their blazen yeast;

And the gods
Who roamed among us,
Who’d rather blame the feasts.

So we killed them:
Our friends, our enemies.
We tore down our economy.

We killed them:
Ourselves, each other.
Split necks, called it dichotomy.

We killed them:
Our world, our sins,
And practiced red topography.

We killed them:
Our sons, our men
And I pretend it doesn’t bother me.

It’s over, what can we do,
But bear our children
Directly into misery?

It never started, but whoever knew
A perfect world
Could fall into asymmetry

Was thought a god,
Like you humans do,
You who are yet to know of empathy

Claim to be gods
When all you can do
Is all but value your epiphanies.

When the world didn’t end,
Everyone noticed.
Well, at the most, it was done subconsciously.

As such, nobody knew,
And as humans do,
They’d continue their rule in cacophony.

They would each learn no lesson,
They’d die in succession,
And abandon design and biology.

They’d choose all that exists:
Good, evil, abyss,
And believe they were gods wholeheartedly.

When the world didn’t end, it bothered me,
As the fruit of that tree
Is a part of me.

I wish I could know you longer.
Talking to you,
I open up so much more
Of what I had hidden.
I can never wait
To talk with you again.

I know I've told you a lot,
But I love how simple you are.
I love your enthusiasm
And how cute you can be.
Sometimes you can be awkward,
And quiet,
And we end up sitting in silence,
But I love those moments too.

I love how cool
And accepting you are.
I love the worry
On your face when you
Think about how long I'll be gone.
I wonder what face you'll make
When you think of how long
It'd have taken me to come back.

Though, I think I hate you.
I've spent so long-
So much time-
So many years-
So many months-
So many seasons-
Just avoiding feeling.

I hate you.
You come along and it feels like
I'd be betraying myself,
And you,
If I told you a lie.
I feel so sick with myself.
Pouring my thoughts,
And my feelings,
Into this letter I call a poem
Just to make writing this feel
More natural.

I hate you.
You make me feel so ****
Selfish.
You make me feel so strangely
Sleepy.
You make me feel so much
Fear.
I fear that you'll become important to me.
I fear that I'm already important to you.
I fear that while I'm gone,
I'll lose you.
I don't know what to.
Maybe to yourself.
God, I hope it isn't to yourself
I feel so sick.

I wish I could know you longer.
Talking to you,
I don't think I want to stop.
This is so new.
Even now,
I want to hear you again.

I want to disassociate again.
I want to take every tie I have
And set it all on fire.
I want to gather its ashes
And I want to burn them all over again.
I want to see my own blood
Flow from my hand
To my wrist
To my elbow
To the floor?
Why?

Why am I like this?
Why does it all go away
When I'm with you?
I hate this so ******* much.
I should stop.
I don't want to feel anything anymore.
I want you to forget about me.
I don't want you to hate me.
I don't want to forget you.
I don't want to hate you.
I don't hate you.
I swear I don't, so please just-
Ok. I've decided

I don't know what this is,
But I know what I think this is.
After so much time of nothing
It's all it can be.
After so much time
If keeping everything quiet,
I can finally talk,
But this is the one thing I can't say.
I can't even write it out.
How ridiculous is that?

At the beginning of this,
I made a wish.
Recently,
You shared that same wish with me.
I wonder how long that'll last.
I've already lost someone.
I learned that
Someone I loved is gone,
And I wanted it all to end just then, but
That's not how it ends.
It will never be over, and
More will surely follow.
How long will this fear follow me?

I'm so sorry.
Knowing you, you'll probably
Feel responsible for all this
And worry about me,
And worry about all these other thoughts
That I fail to put into words.
I don't deserve it
But I feel like you don't care about that.

I'm sorry.
I feel so awful writing this,
But I'm going to wait.
I'm going to wait all that time
And every chance I'll get,
I'll come find you.
I'll find you and we'll talk
And talk
And talk
And talk
Until I have to leave again.

One day, I won't have to leave.
One day, I hope you'll let me stay.
One day, I'll become afraid.
Afraid all over again,
And I'll try to push you away.
I'll try to run so far away-
So far away that
My feelings will never reach you.
So far away that
Yours will never reach me.

Please stop me.
I know it's selfish
But please don't let me run.
I've felt so little
For so long.
I like feeling.
And still, right now, sitting here,
Writing about someone
That’s important to me,
Though contradictory
To the usual dictation of time,
I hope I’m smiling-
And I hope that reading this,
You are too.

A thought form the aether
Will come to me,
And I will claim it
Comfortably.

But the matter of fact
Of the matter is that
I will take it as that
Wholeheartedly.

A dream from the aether
Will plague me.
I’ll awake and remember it
Vaguely.

But the matter of fact
Of the matter is that
I’ll endure it, and this, that
Sanely.

A force from the aether
Will slay me.
I’ll perish and join it there,
Maybe.

But the matter of fact
Of the matter is that
The aether is not he that
Blames me.

The aether is not one to shame me.

They say I'm alone
But I am not.
I work with the dead,
So I’ve got
Ghosts and ghouls in my head,
Each of them a friend,
Sharing their wisdoms
In rot.

It’s been some time
Since I’ve met a living.
They come
Insisting my giving
To them my help,
Often of health
But their stories
End only in sinning.

A woman’s just entered
My morgue.
With courage,
She came through the door.
He stride struck a chord-
Like I’d seen her before-
Like I knew my advice’d
Be ignored.

Of course,
She wanted my help.
From death,
Was the terror she felt.
She had come all this way,
I had nothing to say?
So she thanked me and
Returned to her hell.

I saw you in the grass as shadows passed.
I saw you under a reflection on a screen.
I saw you as a small
                                    Red
                   ­                         Dot
On a tab that wasn't even open.

Like you should have been there.
How I wish you were there.

I remembered the anticipation I felt as I left the school building.
And I remembered the dread I felt
After only a few hours without you.
I always thought
"How bad would I become if it were longer?"
I think such no longer.
I have found my answer.

This
         is real dread.

I feel a clock ticking.
I'm unsure if the timer is still set, or if it has ended.
And my mind plays a familiar feeling over that alarm.

How much
                     longer?

I speak up to simply reach out to you.
Our small interactions recharge me, but make me hurt so little more.
It's so stupid of me to wish I could speak with you longer.

But you run
To the sound of me.

The Wren knows well
That the dread he feels
Comes not from hell
But the hope he steals
From nothing-
It’s baseless
In the face of the truth
Of the fact that the Siren
Fears conversation.

The Wren knows well
That the Siren knows well
What it means to feel pain
So to hurt someone else
Is just what it means
To yearn for what’s lost
And forget about what was had.

The Wren knows well
That the Siren knows well
That the Wren knows well
Of the pleasure it felt
As it burned up its tongue
And sang from its lungs
A song about feeling weak.
But the Siren was silent
As she stretched out her wings,
And screamed his heart shut
Til the Wren was hurting,
So imagine the pain
That he felt on that day
When a beanbag was sewn to his beak.
The Wren had always been meek.

So often I can’t breath with my heart in my throat.
I walk with my eyes on the ground
Wondering what the answer to you is.
When I should speak
I pick up my pen instead.

So often you are at the beginning and end of the ink that runs my papers.

When we talk, something meaningless usually,-
Though still I smile-
Though I still shake-
My heart falls straight from my throat to my gut.
And I have a new sickness.
I know the word for it.
I know it well, thanks to you.
But I can’t say it-
Write it, not even here where you can’t see.
Because now, I feel like I’m not allowed to.

I’m not.

It just makes me more sick.