The rich will always be rich,
Computers, clean body, nice clothes,
Proper homes, not shacks.
Elite schools, branded
Motorcycles, jewelry

The poor will always be poor,
A pen, a marvel
Firewood, abandoned train tracks
YMCA funded classes,
Hand-me downs, nakedness

Grandfather, father,
Son. Same lineage, same burden
To pass down
Generation
To
Generation
To
Generation.
A Never-ending cycle

Cruel game of Russian roulette,
Spin the revolver, watch it
Turn, pick it up, iron to temple
--BANG BANG-- you're dead.
The more the rounds, the
More
Lethal
It
Gets

It is a gap that cannot
Be plugged,
A boulder that cannot be put down,
Like Atlas holding the sky,
If released, the sky and earth
Collide, and we die--
All of us.
Everyone.

A uniquely unique me,
Is all I wanna be!
When you can be so special,
Why waste your own potential?

When I can move my ears,
And growl (although it's queer)
And choose how loud to ****
--consider it a type of art

When I can hiccup-****-sneeze,
And appreciate blue cheese
And laugh and chortle and guffaw
--all my friends stare in awe.

When I can recite so many words,
(It doesn't mean I'm a nerd)
And snack 20 times a day
--don't judge okay...

When you can do all that,
Why feel the need to act?
Please just accept the fact
You are you and that's that!

You are my seven deadly sins, my
Ticket to hell.

And I, your
Fallen angel.

Together, we are death,
doom and destruction
trailing
           in
                our
                       wake.

Living life on the edge--
Always wondering when the next 
Unearthly shiver, the next 
Wave would crest and fall on you and 
Everything would slow down for a few 
Seconds
(They felt like hours)
When your insides would 
Flip and freeze and 
Everything was out to get you
But you were--
Stuck between cobwebs, face
Contorting (only on the inside)
--A short eternity 
Jailed between the suffocating
Walls of your crimson-coloured
Mind.

(No escape)

He raises the bow, slides
Delicately across strings,
D major, A sharp, C minor
Elbow straight, raised high,
And something magical happens

Notes released into the air,
Gliding swiftly, cleanly, clearly.
Mourning put into music,
Rejoicing in regret,
Reading without words,
The deepest, the understanding
of the soul.

Of the bass, harp, violin,
there is only one sound I hear
It is the cello, one cello,
Played by one whose every breath
in rhythm, flat nose, sharp ears
Eyes closed, head rocking, like of
one possessed, but by the spell, the
beauty, the ethereal essence of music, that
One cannot simply deny.

Brother, I know you have the it
that it takes, though I don't know what
is it, really. But I watch you, and I
Simply know, deep in the
Recesses of my soul,
that you can.
So stop dragging me to these
performances to tell me
look at them! I'll never be
This good
And start trying, actually
trying, for once in your life.

I'll be waiting to see you
on that stage, playing for me.
Don't disappoint me.

The sea strains for the sand,
pulling, grasping at
each precious granule,
Their lovers embrace
shattered
with the rise and fall of the tide.

But I am not the sea.
The sky is not my sand.
"Reach for the stars"
They say.
How?
When I am bound.
Chained to the rocks
Shackles made of iron
Caressing my feet

I reach for my sky
My haven, my light
But I cannot
For my wings are far too
Small, To carry my weight.
And I fall
      And fall
          And fall
Until I am grounded.
A fallen angel
Yet again.

Everyone is a light.
Most are like chandeliers,
Fanciful yet pretentious.
Oh please, one lamp is enough.
But then there are some
Very rare, very precious
Candles, lighting the path
for others,
Even if it spells their own demise.
And these are the people
That will earn respect,
Reverence,
honor.
And these are the people
That will not die drowning
In their own tears of regret.

She was of many things—
She was of the sea, and the sun, and the
Stars (shining brightest in the night), but
Most of all, she was of the sky, she was in
The wings of the soaring winds, the thud-
Thud of a brave heart.

She was of many shades—
She was rose red, mellow yellow, as
Pink as the blush in her cheek and as green
As the grasses of the earth—nourished
By waters of violet and aqua-marine.
(Black and white)

I'll be rising out of the sea
--you'll worship me
Hide your face beneath layers of 
Tranlucent glass 
(see through)

I won't be on the other
Side of the equation for once
You'll burn with the force of my
Heat do you remember How
You perfected it?
(I do)

I will live a life--
Regrets, hatred, love, laughter
And all you will
Be is one of the many thorns 
In the rose of my 
(Previous life)

I will break you
Piece by piece--dissected 
Every scratch, every nuance 
Of emotion you show
I'll use it against you
(I learned from the best) 

I will raise my head
Above the clouds because I 
Deserve to fly--higher than 
You and your platinum eyes
That never seen to smile
(Not once) 

One day, but not just yet.

sound the horn ;
The dead are preparing for war, my
gut is a forge they cannot find
Who hides Hephaestus' phoenix inside
chinks of rattling 
chainmail ; 
feather-
beak-
claw(ing)
up gravestones, RIP(ping) breath from
Flesh

So when the skies tremble to hear the
wailing of a burning sun-set
,,,
they will ride in, a silent scream of glowing-iron-hell-fire-
Hail :::
Daughter of Echidna
will You 

lead us

to victory?

Pull me down into your moonlit lakes and stormy penumbras in your brilliant eyes
Smother me with your petrichor and evanescant forever afters and a fleeting eternity
Tempt me with the galaxies in your orbiting existence and questions--questions and gossamer mysteries
Be my eloquence of my stutter, my elixir to my poison, my epiphany for my existence.

The night sky was a piece of art, sketched
By a thousand eager caresses of the wind and
Painted with tender brushstrokes in the many 
hues of dark blue, sprinkled with white sand.

There she sat cross-legged, bare arms trembling with
Cold (anticipation) --the earth seemed so far away
Suspended on a canvas of concrete hundreds of
Feet in the air, metal bars in decay

Lights dying, fumes dissipating, horizon
Fading--Skyscrapers but a silhouette 
In a backdrop of gray (the silence felt wrong, somehow,
Like fine wine on a picnic mat) 

So she closed her eyes and imagined--
less gray, more blue,
The smell of petrichor, and the humming of birds, and leaves 
glistening with the sheen of morning dew

But she opened them again--
Saw prison bars, and she realised, 
All along she had been listening to a lonely
Melody her mind had devised...

Painting an impossible picture.

Nursery
Blurred shapes, lines of
hazy memories.
Babbling and wailing and curiosity,
Why, why and whys, and kissing boys
And not caring how others
thought of you.
Bright-eyed smiles, hopeful

Kindergarten
Fun-filled days of
Tricycles and grass under my feet
And swinging and falling and
Getting up.
Of giggling and friends forever and
Most of all,
Innocence that know no bounds.

Primary
No more tolerating of
Un-done homework.
Punishments and ugly laughter
And friends who ditch you
No more chortles, guffaws,
Only eye bags and rumours
brought by knowledge.

Secondary
New chapter, new
Friends, new school,
new, new, new...
Balancing precariously on an
Angry horse,
Threatening to buck and
--send you careening--
over the edge...
What's new?

Here you go. You want to hear it, don't you?
For all the space in your handphone I
Wasted sending you
Useless messages,
For how I borrowed you too much,
Ranting on about life, apparently too much,
Because I thought I'd finally found someone who'd
Listen, I guess I thought wrong.

And I sit on my bed, and wonder,
Were you ever the guy I
Thought you were?
Probably not.
While I automatically go about my day,
I keep my phone at hand.
I am yearning. yearning for the sound of bells,
The sound that I reserved for your messages.
Bells ringing, angels.

I used to think of you as my
Little devil,
Bad boy as you were.
****, was I right.
It hurts, you know.
How I opened me out,
Lied spread-eagled on the floor.
Dug out all my secrets, my Achilles heel,
me...I trusted you.
But I was Prometheus and you were the eagle,
You dug my insides out.
Ate them.

And for trusting you,
For believing, even once
That you were the one,

I'm sorry.

Her image shuddered;
Streaks of ebony lightning against the backdrop of 
Cloudless, midnight blue
Muscles tensing, preparing
(A predator on the loose)
She pounced, back arched in 
Feline grace, emerald eyes reflecting the 
Silent spirit of a 
Battle-hardened warrior
Twisting turning mid-air limbs outstretched
Landing with a whisper, the
Imprint of her paw prints humming the distant song of a
Secret moonlit sonata.

I want to untangle this
Web of you all of
You your hooded eyes your
Pursed mouth your
Ebony Eyes that pull me in,
Shatter me like black holes. 
Untangle the web that you 
Have woven in my
Mind unconsciously and 
Im trapped 
Trapped
Tra-p-p-e-d
Flies in a spider
Web I'm cornered,
Helpless but do I really really 
Want to untangle you
I do but i dont i dont i dont
I dont i do dont i do Dont want to
Untangle me from you.
Me and you we're too 
Past gone to
Be saved, or is it just
Me and my fraying strings and 
What is left of my heart maybe 
Just maybe

In silent sorrow the willow weeps
Upon the thirsty ground
A rumble of thunder, Zeus starts to speak
The Earth drinks up the sound

She tilts her head up to the sky
A gentle caress of cheek
The sky splits open; a battle-cry
No more tears left to keep

Angelic sighs descend from above
Silver droplets from the heavens
They whisper and tell me of holy love
Of the Rose and the Dove

The rest seek not the storm’s embrace
But to the sky will I chase
To drown in cloud is my joy
Away from filthy human ploy

Leaves soar on wings of wind
Exultant as the bird
It whistles a song; a sweet violin
By mortals yet unheard

He paints a layer of hurricane grey
Above the spring-bud green
Wide brushstrokes of smoky display
An emptiness unseen

*Under the sky, and over the ground,
Silently, peacefully crawling, not making a sound
The children of the storm
The faery mists that hide my form
Reveal my heart, my soul
And allow my spirit to frolick as a blithe foal

Pale fingers intertwining,
a bittersweet hand squeeze. 
His thumb softly rubbing against her
cold, silken skin 

--But their faces!
Rosy cheeks, shining eyes
Two staccato heartbeats.
The wind whipped and tossed and screamed,
ebony locks flowing like the whispers 
in the night.

The horizon was near.
The ocean looked up hungrily,
muttering; tempting, teasing
Screams filled the dead air:
Elation, as they leaned in to embrace.

Finally, an exit out of this maze. 
Now we can truly be together
Now we can truly be free.

I'll find you on the other side, darling.

Two extra splashes into the now silent sea, 
Two soaring doves, carefree gemini.

These days I get lost more often that not
In a labyrinth of escaping echos,
They belch out obscene words, each one left
Behind like red hot embers for me to pick up.
I strip myelf bare before you today, to say:
I will not be outshined, I will not 
be swallowed whole,
not by any of the black holes you hurl towards me like
shooting stars
(Come now dear, close your eyes and make a--)
Wishes don't come true by wishing.
You don't scare me, don't you
see? The monster under my bed I used to hide from--
its just a part of your hurricane heart
I get it now, 
now that time has healed those scars, leaving 
in its place opalescent stars--
You, 
you were just the by-product of tear-stained pillows and 
the (not so) occasional broken bottle

I strip myself bare before you today, to say:
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry my monsters were gaping mouths and mocking eyes, and yours--
yours were tangible fury and broken bones
slurred words and hollow tones I'm so
so sorry.
 
I strip myself bare before you today to tell you: 
I forgive you.

you are addicted to falling, which is to say
you exercise mind over matter, a grand reclamation
of flesh, is to say
you crave an escape from monochromity,
into monochromity
chase honesty into a corner
you howl out Death's name like you mean it.
is it too late? when your slippers grow cold but 
the memory of regret still lingers where it struck you mid-
air,  regret that wins when you lose yourself to
gravity's palm
so learn to look down-
learn to let go.
let ghost

It's this time,
When it's truly the middle of the night.
When the witches and wolves come out to dine,
When mr moon refuses to burn bright. 

When he and she 
Are snoozing tight,
When you and me 
--our imaginations take flight.

When ghouls and ghosts 
Don't worry the light,
When vampires boast
About their bites. 

When silence is ominous
--to the banshees' delight,
When goblins are most honest
Fine I'm lying, alright.

When faeries come out,
Pink green blue red white,
When zombies get up and about,
Completely oblivious to the mosquito bites.

When it's time to celebrate
The water sprites' wedding night. 
When all long dead mates
Finally get to reunite.

It is also time
For the stars to excite:
One kiss for one dime,
Mermaids, the queen of the night.

But when the moon disappears 
And the sun takes along its light, 
These creatures wipe away a tear...
It's time to say good night.

True, they don't hurt you physically,
Not
A
Scratch.
But inside,
Beneath these lies
You tell yourself,
I'm okay, I'm fine, really...
inside,
A ceramic plate chips,
A corner taken,
A fragment gone.
With time, what was strong
Has become weak.
For what is a house made of
Straw?

Once it's gone, it's
Gone.
That part, however little,
Will never, ever be
With you again.
Like fixing porcelain with
Glue.
It just doesn't feel the same.
And it hurts,
Hurts, hurts, hurts.

But...
If the glue is applied with the
Right care,
Love,
Effort,
The end result, can be--
will be more beautiful
than
If it hadn't been
b r o k e n
before.

sticks and stones may break my bones but words never will
I guess it depends on what kind of words,
Ain't it?

In case of emergency, place sandals neatly against toilet door. Be sure to turn off all light sources ; the monster exists in the mirror, too.
In case of emergency, press palms against tiles, become accustomed to friction. Remember: cold is the least of your worries. 
In case of emergency, enjoy it, enjoy it, enjoy it.

In the event of a fire, try your hardest to access a natural water source. The taps will be too far for your hands to reach
In the event of a fire, know that struggling does not relieve the burn.
In the event of a fire, wash hands thoroughly, and do not seek help.
After all, it is your fault for carrying a match.

Neon lights illuminunate glasses,
Getting picked on--***** those *******.

We don't worship your filthy pastors
In life we'll see who runs the fastest.

I had a feeling
Yesterday night I think.
But my head might be wrong, as it is
Sometimes.

It was a queer feeling
Rather peculiar, one might say.
It was blank--as white as an
Unused sheet of paper

A Kaleidoscope of colours, shapes, sounds,
Feelings.
All put in the blender that was my head,
And so it mixed, clashed, tumbled, blended.

Into a white frothy substance--
Pure, clean, white.
The absolute, infinitely
enormous, sense of nothingness

And for that single, flashing fraction of
A moment,
I felt weightless, free from the burden of emotions.
The calm before the storm.

If only for a moment.

It caresses my face,
Rubbing one velvety gloved finger up and
Down my neck, tracing up the
sharpness of my chin,
My, what a contrast.

The wind is like
Dry ice,
It freezes lips shut and
chills even teeth,
But when it warms,
Your skin craves it like
Parched throats crave water.

The wind is like an
Earthworm, it burrows straight into my
Nose when I tilt my head back.
It slithers through the holes in my shirt,
And breathes in life.

The wind is like a swarm of
Bees,
Stinging my eyes, making them leak.
It stings for a second, then
Flies away,
Only to attack again, and again,
And again.

The wind is like a spider's
Web,
Invisible to the untrained eye,
Yet strong as steel--
Maybe even
Stronger.
It catches stray objects and
Swallows it whole,
Trapping them in its
Unrelenting fist

To me, the wind is also a force of
nature, both
Meek and Mighty--unpredictable
But what is it? Really...
It's all up to you

Everyone has different opinions on
Different matters, so
Please
Don't judge.

She slays with her pen
Scarlet ink spurting out with every mighty swing
All around her the battle rages
Severed heads littering the snow white ground,
Staining the snow crimson
Beside her, two loyal beasts:
Alliteration and Metaphor
Snarling savagely by her side,
Hounds from the pit of hell
Her troops: the grammar nazis were the 
Elite of the elites: the crooked criminals didn't stand a chance.
And so, in a matter of minutes the war had been won
Silence, except for the drip drip of ebony blood
And the roaring of a distant thunderstorm.
She finally sheathed her sword, 
Her mark had been made.

Just because you think you know
My story from someone I used to trust,
Doesn't make you my 
Personal advertiser. 

You can't see through my bluff,
Although you pretend to, because
You're not the first to pull this on me.  
I've had practice, you won't win. 

I made a mistake once, and I 
Made it again. Shoot me. 
I promise you, I won't 
Tell anyone, ever again. 

You don't have to announce it 
For the gods to hear, I act like I don't care,
Don't care how everyone looks
At me different now. 

So you became my mother now, 
Did you? Go on. Be disappointed.
Do it and I'll treat you like my mother.
Like I don't give a ****.

So you turned me into 
A monster, didn't you? 
All while telling me:
"I understand, really"

Now I know.
It all comes down to trust.
Trust, trust, trust, trust, trust...
Trust is a *****. 

I hate you. As much as I hated 
The other person who did this to me. 
As much as I hate myself. 
I ******* Hate You.

His ebony wings were spread-eagled, nailed crimson to a 
Cross (my heart, hope to die)
Head bowed, body dangling from gossamer strings pulled by 
Shadows mouthing out lyrics to an 
Unsung melody; a siren
Song of surrender and serenity amidst fragments
Of a fairytale heart that eternity tends to tear apart. 
Ichor peeks out from sleek surgical cuts, frosting his heart with
Thoughts that don't belong to him,
Voices that say "This is truth this 
Is gospel so take it take it or leave it" but there's never really a choice, not really.
And he's a blind man waiting for the sunrise:
Black and black and black and blue but he can't see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore
Where is it? 
Where is paradise? 
So under the stars it is- walking, walking, walking till his eyes smile with the light of constellations, chest rises without the weight of a thousand planets. Finally. 
Finally. *
The sun has risen when the train tracks suddenly cleaves in half and
he *chooses.
He chooses freedom.
Instantly the perpiration latches itself on him like a long-lost lover, but it doesn't taste like the 
barrel of a gun anymore
So he keeps trudging, dreaming about once-upon-a-time wings and caresses of the wind that drew shivers down his spine and sketched onto him an electric soul 
He blinks the roaring sand from his eyes,
When suddenly he finds himself lost, derailed, bare feet blazing, gazing 
up into the periwinkle desert sky. 
The abyss yawns louder and louder:
The sand is beige beckoning, the rocks burgundy bewitching
Slowly he leans forward--A tipping scale 
But he doesnotfall,doesnotfly, hovering on the edge of a shimmering faultline
Instead he melts into the arms wrapped around his waist (pulling him back)
every scar, every word he doesn't speak out loud outlined in unfamiliar pain and a scarlet emotion he doesn't recognise
In his ears are matching heartbeats, echoes ricocheting off bullet-proof wards, hiding a
Rock and roll soul
Look up just a little and he's drowning, heisdrowningdrowningdrowning in a troubled sea of brilliant green and flecks of gold
Cards fold, feet bold
Into the darkness he fell, bracing for the crash-land.
Rolling heads over heels, till the damp dust settles and lips meet lips.
What a sight. 
For once in his life, he doesn't fight. 
For a long time, they sit like that--back against back, 
Until cerulean blue eyes turns to amber and spring-bud green burns to ash.

Why, why did you choose that
Path, were you sick of being haunted by the
Demons of your past? Or did you
Just decide one day that it wouldn't
Make a difference
If you were gone? 
Maybe you were right. 
Maybe the world does keep on spinning.
Maybe you didn't rock the world
But what you did. What YOU did--
Did you know every time you
Smiled a little piece me fell 
Into chaos?
Did you know every time you spoke you
Distracted me from the words that never would
Leave? 
Did you know when you jumped that
I would fall along with you?
Maybe you did. 

But don't worry baby,
I'm coming for you.

To me, fear is the epitome of her,
Icy cold, blistering, scorching hot.
Indecisiveness, living in a
Nightmare.
Her hand, from which supported me
As I wobbled on my two feet,
That carried me when the world
Was out to get me.

Ironic,
How is has become a weapon,
Along with her mouth,
And I feel like dying...
Every second you are here,
Every sight of you makes me heart
Beat faster.
And I try not to think but I still think I cannot help it.

And the words that come out are from my deepest fears
"*******! Get lost you *******!
Get out and never come back! *******! You pig, you monster..."
And people will think I'm exaggerating, that it's no big deal.
But it is.
And I spend my nights wishing I could die,
Or at least sink into the ground, be buried alive.
Oh I bet she wouldn't notice anyway.

As now I sit in my locked bedroom,
Its half past 1am.
I want to be a filial daughter, return everything
Back to you.
I imagine that would be fun.
For me at least. But for now
I rejoice, I won't be yours anymore.

And this poem, I will
Keep secret, for fear
Of discovery.
For once, you won't own everything.

Day 1:
You dance through it, with painted smiles and 
Portrait lenses tinted pink
You don't leave this sand castle you've constructed
Head in the clouds, tripping on thunderbolts

Day 2:
The sun draws shadows down your spine
You're not broken, only scratched 
A second-hand car, gone to get your fix
New paint to hide those scars

Day 6: 
There's no steering you away
By now its a repetition, wrenching sunlight from lemons
Black, white, black white
Black eyes, ripped pockets

Day 57:
Heaven is only for angels,
But you're a wolf in disguise
You flew too close to the sun, wax wings 
Burning, drowning, clawing (your way to the top again) 

Day 100: 
Today's the day. You're gonna do it again. 
Pierce the veil, soar to new heights
Away from those demons you used to know they shout out STOPDON'TDOTHIS
But you can't-FIGHTIT-don't want to wake from this dream

Day 9649: 
You're a blind man waiting for the sun to rise
It's getting hard to breathe in this haze
Then there's a pinprick of white
You surge forward, riding on waves of desperation

Day 335481:
Its an unsurmountable wall
You keep climbing and climbing and climbing and climbing but 
Look down and suddenly there's a hundred 
Miles left 
to 
drop
-

The girl sits
Lonely in a corner
Blank empty space  in the
Classroom of laughter

The girl breathes
The tiniest movement of air
Invisible
To everyone but herself

The girl tries
Tries to laugh
But nothing comes out
From her cold empty heart

The girl stands
Mere ghost in the midst of mortals
As vacant as her existence
A ghost she felt inside

The girl staggers-
Broken body falling
Apart she goes
Never to be heard

Every night I wake from the same nightmare
Screaming ****** ******, flames echoing across the room.
Blink and I’m an infant, a 6 month-old cavity
In a crib crying rivulets of blood,
Drowning; sweat gushing in from all sides, boxed in like the pile of
ashes I still hallucinate about sometimes
(Would you rather burn or drown?)
Dean always chose to drown.
And in that twisted way he was his own man,
Always sky blue over jet black, but me; I
deserve to burn.
I guess it runs in the family.
Charred black: that’s my destiny. Hooked on IVs of
Liquid coal, onyx adorning my veins. In this (under)world
I
am
King.
My throne is carved out of fallen stars that
Couldn’t put themselves back together again. I sit on
Lipstick-stained skulls
(They have names, names that ring in the hollow of my
Heart, names that whisper;
Counting down the hands I’ve let loose, let go)
Its a tightrope of insanity that I’m tiptoeing on; teetering on the frayed
Edges between darkness and
Light
I cannot tell where I begin, where I end,
(is this all but a figment of my imagination?)
For Mom, Jess, Dean.
Dean
They are the cobwebs that still linger between my muddled mind,
Tethering me to a world of lies;
A world that has no place for a boy with a blinding smile and nightshade lips,
A boy who once dreamt of a love so good so pure
–but that was before–
Before I dug out the demons I’d thought I’d buried six feet under
the fireworks of that night on the 4th of July,
do you remember?
But that was the rose of my previous life,
Now all that are left
Are the thorns.

Two days. 
Two days drowning in the cacophonous silence of chaos
Burrowing deep into my waterlogged bones two
Nights kept alive by remnants of a forgotten time, 
Foggy after-images of thunderstorms and 
Learning to dance in the exuberant rain;
An under-developed photo.
Colours, that what you were. Chasing clashing carnival 
Colours. 

Two days. 
Two days burning alive. 
One day I'll turn to ashes, I swear.
These flames burn blue,
They burn with heat of missing you;
Grim golden, sorry scarlet
Do you miss me too? I try 
Not to think (I do) but you slither inside my
Mind like tongues 
Don't you know I'll burn you
Too?

Baby girl,
Do you remember that sunset we spent on the cliff like lust-filled teenagers?
We were feather-light then, floating to wherever the 
Wind blew us to. Wanderlust coated our skin a pearly white and there were
Nothing but sheets between us; a shimmering
Faultline we dared not cross. 
(You probably forgot) 
The way my heart felt as you cradled it in your sleeve. 
In that moment I realised all I could ever be was stone 
Cold, heart sold 
You carved me a rose, I threw you a hose
Its my fault, 
I should've known all I ever did was water you down, 
Dim your spark.
Its my fault, 
Forgive me for letting you drown. 

Baby boy,
I want you to know this:
I'm sorry. 
I'm sorry for ever meeting you.
Sometimes I wonder, what were the chances?
Seven billion other souls to ignite,
But the Devil chose you.
I don't regret anything, the pain, the 
Charred black bond we used to share
Darling, you don't deserve hell like me.
No one deserves hell like me
Don't worry sweetie, they could never steal us,
Not the memories at least:
I've locked them away for another hour, another 
Time, another age to savour:
The son of Man and the Devil's daughter.
I was selfish, but please
Promise me one thing. 
Don't ever forget me, will you?
Not when the tides turn, not even 
when hell burns. *

So one more day passes agonizingly, then two
The seconds fall like honey, I can't bear to look at you
Day three, I'm taking a breath and gathering my courage
I watch as you approach me and my pumpkin carriage
Is that longing on your face or am I imagining things?
I'm not prepared for this-the room starts to spin
Three metres, two metres, one and oh ****. 
My mouth feels too dry, I'm going to be sick.

-An uncomfortable silence-

Hey.
Hey.
So, are we still--
Friends?
Yeah, friends.

The smile that he smiles has me held tongue-tied*
Well, at least it better than saying goodbye.

She doesn't look up, not once.
None of them do. 

Not when the words hang
From the tips of their drooping mouths, 
Droplets splashing onto those
Neon screens clutched in
Sweaty hands, soaring and tumbling past
Instagram, tumblr, straight on til'
Status udates, and 
Timelines that tell life stories and
Remind them that 
"It's her birthday today" because
They forgot that they forgot last year too.
So they crack their neck 
(It hurts to look down for so long)
, lift a pale finger to click: 
"Wish you a happy birth--

She is behind them, but they don't 
See, or don't bother to.

So when those words falter, halt
To a stop because that pale finger thinks
It would be awkward, will wishing
A happy birthday mean...
(Interest?!) 
She sees, and keeps silent, because those words:
They have grown cold, hard, like concrete
Left to cool for too long. 
And when they close that white and blue screen,
Swipe on to more important things,
She picks up the hem of
Her faded dress and plucks off that 
One loose strand of thread that
Never seem to 
Stop. 

She closes her wings and fold them 
Back within herself. 

And on that particular night, 
On that particular date, 
She clutches a neon screen in her 
Sweaty hands, and count. 

1...

2...

3.

3 pokes.