She had a way of looking at you after one too many pegs
Her stare far too focused for someone so blazed on spirits
One hand reaching out almost to grab your face
But you realise what she's seeking for doesn't exist in the physical realm
Her hand grips your face now
Gently
Until you feel her nails slowly slicing down your ear
Your neck feels hot as her deft fingers slip inside
Her eyes locked on yours soothing any pain you should be feeling
Her hand going deeper inside you
Dodging artery nerves and pushing aside your muscles
Only to clasp on your voice box
You move your mouth in protest but no words escape
And as you blink in horror, her hand is gone
Your own reaches up to check the wound but there is none
"What....the..****?"
The words slip out with surprising ease
You weren't expecting this
You look at her in confusion
Trying to search her face for an answer she refuses to disclose
After 5 minutes of silence she sighs
"I couldn't find the words to explain how I feel about you. So I wanted some of yours instead."
Her face is closer now, her hand back to cradling your face
You brace for another invasion but what you feel is the unexpected touch of her lips against yours
They tasted so good you decided to give in
Maybe she wasn't the one high on spirits
Maybe it was you
Maybe you just imagined it all
"I want you"

They hide in, the shadowy corners
In the right-angled crevices, they wander
Lying patient and calm, seemingly deceiving
Your failed attempts they’re always seeing

In the flickering dimness of old candlelight
They slowly start growing into your sight
30% beautiful 70% terrifying
A dance with them, worth the risk of dying

They come when you least expect
Reaching out when your misery they detect
Not with the gift of peace your heart desires
Rather with the fire, your soul requires

The sound of silence has always been deafening
The quietness being a song of one’s reckoning

Confusing eardrums and hurting our brains
A weird pain it is, one impossible to explain

The sound of silence has always lived inside us
A quiet power we all refuse to discuss

Escaping the locks and walls we built
Mirroring our mistakes and reminding us our guilt

The sound of silence will always make itself heard
A call of danger, one never to be ignored

Dear Mr. Cat
Quite the adventures you and I have had
From needy cats purring
And bedrooms with water overflowing
What a frightfully weird story we seem to be writing

Our somewhat poor choices
Our every days
Don’t they amuse you?
For they do me and so much more
But that’s all I can say
For revealing too much
Would leave things better left untouched
Stretched too wide and far too open
For all to see
The silly vulnerability that is me

Oh Mister Cat
Why couldn’t this have worked out?
With your sweet silences and my childish pout
We could have drawn up our own world
One as beautiful as was bold
Filled with mysterious melodies and subtle guitar strumming
And endlessly endless chapters
Filled with my reckless wonderings

You and I Mister Cat
Have a bond so special
One I could barely begin to define
Every second spent with you
Was worth all the time
Impossibly divine
My silly heart chimes
Ignorant of harsh realities you’ve seen
Lost in the world of what could have been

But such things are better written than spoken
Wiser in books that carelessly left out in the open
For you are you
And I, ever changing
Far too young to be thinking of dating
Our time is now up
The bells claim with their clanging
So won’t you just kiss me
Be mine this one last time
Before you go back to swiping online?

Every morning she left the bed warm
The nightmares of her loss bled into the sheets
A ritual she endured every night
My soothing words too little help
The demons proved to be too strong
Those of regret always were
Not even my voice could chase them away
My fingers failing to awaken her
From this nightmare she lived in

She was a woman of unimaginable strength
A leader for the last dregs of us
The warrior meant t lead us all
To a place away from this nightmarish hell
One of extinction we were at the brink of

If only it made a difference
Her gift could only protect her so far
Her mind roamed free from its clutches
Endangering her very existence into the depths of madness
The 3 AM demons couldn’t be kept away
Years of training now failed me
And her too

I hope someday
One day she saves herself
Because none of us can

I think it's beautiful
The way your hands are sturdy and calloused
Not the gentle softness illustrators are known for
These hands have felt real art
Built from the ground up
Days of mixing, moulding and texturing
Breathing life into deathly white parchments

I think it's beautiful
The way your arms are slender yet firm
Dusky brown skin holding rippling strong muscles
Strengthened slowly
through years of bullying and soul searching
Their unsymmetrical realness known not
For their harshness
But for the gentle notes they strum
Weaving elegantly with the quiet moving pictures on screens

I think it's beautiful
The way your shoulders always stand strong
A declaration demanding the eyes of every being in sight
Their angled rigidity know to be surprisingly nimble
An immovable pillar for the melting of your body
A constant transformation into unknown characters

The hidden bumps of tired hands
The rough ridges of calloused skin
The angled sharpness of chiseled bones
Hidden works of art
Flitting secretively under the armor you wear
The priviledge of their appearance
But a few can bear

You know what's harder than falling for the bad guy?
Falling for the others
The seemingly nice ones
The good guys

The signs are all there afterall,
Everyone can't stop raving about how wonderful he is
The ideal nice guy

And for a moment
Just one moment of blindsidedness
You believe it
You let it consume you
Revelling in the positives
Lacing together each moment spent together
Into a beautiful story

The perfect beginning, middle and end
Designed intricately by yours truly
A potential work of art
Destined for greatness perhaps
Isn't it?

The pride of your masterpiece
destroys you
Engulfing your sense of reality
Blinding you from the truth
The falsehood of it
A piece that depicts nothing
Nothing but an illusion
Another dimensional reality
One you don't  live in
And probably never will

And sometimes
In those rare moments of silence
It comes back
The crushing harsh reality
Your foolhardy choices laid bare
And you admit
Quietly to yourself
For who else can your true self be revealed to?

Maybe
Just maybe you were wrong
Those masterful strokes of perfection
The gleaming knighthood of it all
Just a lie?

A veil drawn over your sense of truth
So strong it blinded you
Completely
Drowning you in its falsehoods
The shores of reality no more than a distant memory

You know what's worse than falling for the bad guy?
Falling for the right one.