I've given into temptation
allowed you to curl your fingers
around my throat, tormenting
me with serpent eyes, born from
lust, demons and all things hellish
I inhale poisonous smoke from
your scent, slender frames that entice
the soul into destructions doorway

She says to me, why do you love me?
And I respond in kind,
purposely avoiding the question because really, I don't know.
It's nothing my senses can describe, and my language is no better.
I say I love you, simply because I do.

misfit wanderers lost in their dreams
collecting broken pieces
gluing them with words.

masters in the art of being faceless
singing the songs
of the unheard.

silent souls affected in tragic ways
seeking a painful solace
drowning themselves in the flood.

My favourite colour, has long since been grey
But I didn't know why, until today
I envy grey, grey doesn't commit
Any strong emotion, well grey isn't it
Grey's not red anger, red hate, or  red love,
Blue sadness, yellow fury or perfection's white dove.
No, grey is nothing, no emotion, no pain,
no commitment, no dichotomies, I want that again.