No it's fine
continue ignoring me when our eyes meet
I have nothing to say to you
but it's funny
how much I could say to her..

This moth saw brightness
in a woman's chamber--
burnt to a crisp.

Well, if you've gone through part one and don't feel well, don't read any further.......

Ok, I'm jumping back, before I was ten. I grew up with my mom 'sick' (really, it was narcotics) I thought she was mostly tired and sick. I didn't know the truth until I was thirteen. Well, while growing up, I raised my four bros I knew about and my only sister, (until she was caught, I thought I was the oldest of six, found out I'm second oldest of eight) anyway, I really hated my brother who I thought was the first brother I had. Well, I hated him because..........mom actually showed him attention and love........ And for those thinking 'parents love their kids, and it's just the child's imagination of favoritism', well, try being kicked in the back for crying from age five/six until your nine or so......... my mom wanted a boy first, but got me. :/ I tried everyday to get her attention......... she was seventeen when she had me, so I kept thinking, back since I was three/four, I was a mistake........well, I was so deeply upset, I tried to **** my self several times, I tried over dosing about twenty times(each time, my migraine went away, and that was it, hell, I kept taking large bottles of pain killers) I tried suffocation(found out I can breathe even through thick material, beds, pillows, etc.) I even tried poison berries(ps, those things taste nasty, and of course, nothing happened) I think I'm just immune/resistant to death....... never could figure out why nothing happened......... :/ I just gave up, (and from my mom kicking me and calling me every obscenity in the book while I was young and crying, I can't cry for long......... I can cry for a minute or less, but no longer :/...........

Days merging with nights.

Spending an eternity in a waking dream.

Stars shadowing the sun.

Moonlight showers us.

We’re drenched in shivers.

We’re breathing.

Filling our lungs, getting high on the night’s sky.

We are awake.

We are dreaming.

I take my tea with drops of melancholy.

A cigarette between my exhausted fingers.

I remember the day you wished that I was dead and you're the only one who saved me from the jaws of the hungry wolves.

I was a cowedly sheep stained with hatred and dowsed with remorse, waiting for anger to burn me up.

I had no idea I was living with the beast.


My soul is an inch away from non-existence.

The soles of my feet are decaying and I'm weak.

The fire is gone and I wonder what you'll do with my remaining ashes.


I will remain sinful and insane.

I still will remain regretful and tired.

I remain sculpting better strangers than my own loved ones.

Yes, I will remain living with the beast.

No, I won't come to you any more as my saviour, feeding me bowls of guilt.

Behold.
The cup is full my love.
My ribs are now held close.
With silk so tender and nameless.
And your lips newly plumped.
Your skin perfect finally.
Pore less.

Take these paper memories, these fragile moons, break them for our bed.
Our perfect rest. A final mistake. 
Fear for the future. The past is not to come. 

Forever leathered throats and close knit bones. 
Drink tonight. 
It is only a carton away. 
The death of your insecurities. 

You drive by and smell the rot. 
By the creek, the timbers never cured. 

Forget the trees lining your sunset. 
Drink. Allow your beach to rise as you fall. 
Refresh again. 

Someone else. 
Peel away the layers and remove your face from this haunting. 
Step outside into the night's cold brilliance. 

Scream. 
Allow yourself to wake. And pretend for a pence that this is it. This is light. 
With your back against the ceiling. 
And again my eternity, with your back against the quilt. 
Sweat and tremble, awake in you what stayed weak. 

Control emotion in the room, wait for the paint to dry. 
A cold abyss grown darker with these moments at work. 
These hollows of warmth. 

I'm directing this and you are arriving with sickness. 
Just a puzzle eternal now. 
A walk on the beach chasing sand. 
Waiting for dust. 

Scream.