hell bent

downward

on my knees

it adds up

do the math,

you had me at

goodbye

you know

and quoting

Sylvia Plath.

you had me

up against

the brick

you had me

in the snow,

you had me

long before we met

that night

ten years ago.

abandon ship

quite recklessly

abort me

mission miss,

falling down

together

alone

we’ve fallen

since that kiss.

impetuous

the winds have been

but silent was

the storm,

your eyes

not arms

would comfort me

would keep

my heartstrings

warm.

hell bent

was i

when wounds were

fresh

and hearts

still young and sore,

down on

our knees

with stifled pleas

we don’t need

anymore.

We merged in a ferocious kiss,
that happened without any design,
your lips tasted like wine, you felt-
mine the same; wasn't it divine!
then, how did that sea change, happen?
*your love tasted brine so soon,
blood in my veins turned poison.

you are tomato soup

acidic

and creamy.

your path is marked
by risen temperature in my esophagus.
your path is parallel to my spine.

and you rest in the warm vats of my stomach
but you are warmer still.
no real need for digestion.
you are but orange liquid.

but sometimes you burn

tttttttttsa on my tongue

your steam-less appearance fooled me;
there is no need for cooling

hot hot tomato soup.

I miss it here,
Under this pale street lamp
Dry winds and conversing frogs
With the prayers of the mantis,
unheard by any God.

How I love it here,
With it's depressing skies  and diamond stars
Only exsisting to show off how "pretty" they all are

But though at times I do miss it here
Now I only miss you more

Memories haunt me
Of the times I had spent here within this space unknown
The green doors of my past, closed,
Forever more.

The chaos behind me
As I sit here, On this decaying porch
Missing you...
And wishing you could be sitting here too.

A woman lies sleeping in her bed,
Her hair is a halo
Her bedsheets caress her frame.
In this dreamlike state her skin is smooth,
Her mind is at rest.
It is almost as though she has never been touched by worry or fear,
Or life itself.
Apart from her relaxed brow she remains much like she is when awake.
She is
Silent.
Her ambitions are kept safely
In the sanctuary of her mind,
And her darkest desires can only be found in the darkest of hours
When she she is supposed to be asleep.
Unseen
Unknown.
Her angelic face hides her ravenous hunger
To feel as she knows she can
To be as she knows she is.
Only the faintest hint of colour in her cheeks can suggest
The passion within.
In her dreams she is dancing free,
While the city around her burns.
She is wild and naked
And loud
And hideous
And joyous all at once.
But from her face
This cannot be seen.
Even if the angel awoke and parted her lips,
Letting her secrets pour out
And rush through the winding streets
Down the sewers
And up to the heavens
She would
never
be
heard

I hardly eat,
And I never sleep,
It's hard to be a wild child,
When your body shows defeat

My heart is pounding,
My hands are always shaking,
Not enough love and too many drugs,
Is a disaster in the making