A dash of ketamine,
A helping of wine,
Is all the love potion
I need for you tonight.

Oh you say we just met?
Oh sorry, I forget.
After last night you
Came and slept
At my place.

You don’t remember?
Don't worry,
It was a dream after all, Right?

Care for another Love Potion?
Made with love for you, Darling.
Of course you reject the notion
That it could quiet your snarling.

Everything rots, doesn’t it?
Watch with me, dear reader
This petal falls from the rose
Your body starts to decompose

Another petal falls
Maggots burrow into your brain
A Panther tears open your chest
All of your organs are devoured hastily
Not to be put to waste

A third petal is blown by the wind
Your skin starts to peel
revealing marvelously white bone
a small sprout grows up through
the ribs and shows itself to the sun

The fifth and sixth petals fall together
The rain brings forth a flood
washing away the dirt and leaves
only your skeleton left behind

A curious dog takes your femur as
the seventh petal falls
You are rudely moved from
the forest floor to a dark room
They give you a name

The eighth petal falls
They put you in a box
The sun no longer shines on the sprout
and it too wilts
cries of people
surround you as you are then
dropped into your grave

The rose decomposes,
just like you.
The box doesn't last long
And your bones finally
are given a rest
As they crumble into dust

Dear reader, you see,
Everyone rots.

It started out as just myself
I floated around in the dark
empty spaces you call
your mind.
So many places to go,
but no one to share them with.

Suddenly something shook you,
It shook me too, but I felt something, someone new

We floated around just they and I,
Worlds and Ideas sprouted from their fingertips
The empty spaces became full of wondrous
places and peoples I had never seen before.
It was perfect, but something always felt wrong
You never spoke

You opened your mouth to respond but,
BAM
You were gone.
All but a memory in the void.

Sometimes I still hear you. I still see your face
There have been others, of course. New people,
new places,
new things.
How I wish I could still explore them with you.

The battlegrounds
of the past
are empty now.
The brave now
Scarred by
the same power
They swore to protect
In the end.

Was it worth it?
Ending all those lives
Breaking the minds
of those you claimed
to love.

Was it worth it to watch
them leave for
the last time?
To watch as they were
puppeteered
as pawns of

“FREEDOM”
Shouted the Man in the chair,
chanted the revolutionaries.
but really everything
was to a self serving end

Only
In death may
my freedom
come to me

staring down
the barrel
of his pistol
or seeing
my reflection
in his knife

Why is life?
Called by poets
‘Pain with no end’
‘Disease without a cure’
Maybe It’s just
Misunderstood too
A question without an answer
A tired contender
in a ring of pain

‘why is life?’
Muttered the Stoners
and Addicts,
Eager to take
another sip,
another puff,
another pill.
‘Maybe under
The neon trip of
LSD and
DPH and
Anger and
Confusion,
There’s something more
To this thing called life.’

Why is life that is
Described by the parents
and the civilians
as ‘Precious’ and ‘Beautiful,
When I still see the scars
Dripping with
the blood I spilled
and tears I cried
dripping with the rage
That they forced on me
With just a faint
Memory
of Why.

‘I know!’
‘Why is life!’
Cried out by the pastor
and the priest
to be,
‘Impure and tormented’,
‘A messy, infected wound’,
‘A sore that must be cleansed
and bleached’
When the very systems
that swore to cleanse evil
kills those who do good
and condemn those
who simply express
who they are.

“why is life?”
I muttered,
bent over the
bathroom sink
hands stained
red
from the pills I took
to erase the pain
of life

blip!

wave!

blink.

tilt?

nod…

gesture!!

tilt

point!
shiver­…

idea!

reach!

grasp!?

grab.

warm!!

smile!

smile.