This piece of paper rejects the kiss of my old pencil lead- Its blackness fading Its magic disappearing Its meaning slowly annihilating itself.
My muse has turned into a black screen; Embroidered with small white pills and Large doses of alcohol Radiating myself, this black hole in a galaxy with only stars remaining
In this vacuum, I ask myself only one thing Am I really a poet ? if the only thing I can write about now is how I have nothing to write about.
the torchlight is far beyond my reach clenching my jaw for mere crippling words clarity is for the unfortunate for those whose eyes melt ice
the deer locks its gaze onto mine humanising the brown ruins beside me am i fearful or divine if it only were my eyes whose death gave life to that flame
is loving the enemy treason if the patriot and traitor is one too many keys to too many doors but its dark the torchlight is far beyond my reach
throwing out structure for some raw emotions perhaps
you put it in me you took it away without warning you are never deprived of it you saw it in my eyes you didn't like how bright it was you bereft me of it
my showers, stinging my meals, none my friends, equally as fcked up my mind, hollow my heart, beating my purpose, lost my scars, visceral my will, dead my sleep, awakening my dreams, comforting my reality, daunting my life, ending.
Count the doves in the 7pm pink,nostalgic sky Watch them blend in harmony with tricoloured flags As crips yellow leaves fall in the backdrop As faint chimes heard from a distant
Worship at dawn, spew venom at dusk Our brains preserved in jars, our hearts kept on shelves Hostages to pale white buildings are we not Decoding the labryinth that ends at the halo
A sip of whiskey to regain my conciousness A drop of blood to blind myself back again Anxiously search for the poisoned apple Disguising itself in the shine of its benevolence
The smell of incense and ashes embrace my body yet haunts my soul Amplifying my thoughts provoked by your blood and meat My picnic basket holds my fears and not your blessings At least for an evening, let me escape At least for a night, let me liberate myself from being your child.