Painful bliss
feathery wings felt
yet unseen
Mental mountains
gorges
euphoric highs
lows
morbid in their
faerytale fantasie

I am aware
of your
used acrid air
heavenly
on my skin
your flesh grinding
my brittle bones
Slick secretions slip
like liquid rotting fruit
gagging me, infesting my being

Your death is weaving
cold and desire charged through
my straining ribs
wrapping frost-bitten fingers around
my coal-pitted heart

-paralysis-

We are immortalized
together
I am forever stained
with your essence

Original Version

I cannot stop
wondering what this is,
what it means,
where it might take us.

You said,
"Love the question, accept the answer.
The only truth is the lesson,
and the lesson is there is no truth.
You have to come to accept ambiguity
rather than expect definiteness."

To own you is to never have you.
To have you is to never own you.
I have to learn how to let go.
Freedom in love is so ******* hard.

I am thirsty for possession,
I want to keep you away from this world,
I want to eat up each of your words,
leaving your novels incomplete,
unknown to the public's hungry eyes.
But I cannot.

For one day the world will expose you,
the chaos of fame will seep into your skin,
the others' eery obsession will surround your head,
and I will fade.
It is with you
that I do not have a name.

From others I can get everything
but the one thing
that only you have.

And so I have come to accept
and to look forward to
a lifetime of ambiguity
with you.




The Translation*

*******.
You ****** with my head, with my heart.
You know that you can just let me go and do whatever the **** I want,
because I will always come back.
I ******* hate what you have done to me, what I have done to myself
I have fallen so ******* deep in this **** with you.
My god I ******* love you, I am so ******* in love with you,
I love you so ******* much it ******* hurts.
But seriously, don't stop.
Be with me, take away my name,
consume me all.

there is pride in pain
pleasure in punishment
and dignity in degradation

so i'll be

in my own little self-torture chamber
wallowing in my own little passion pit
plastering a new persona on myself

and when i'm done

this internal itch for ill blood
will ease
but i myself will be stronger

I'm a *******
I guess
but i always thought of me
as a human canvas
your blank slate
do I like the pain?
I've always had a high tolerance
but do I like it?
I guess not
but when it boils down to it
I'm happy
to be your punching bag
the dead air
which you fill with songs
older than time
these scars
are an ode
to your life
a beautiful poem
even the ones
which you can't see
I'm more like a billboard
than a man
but my ad space
will always be reserved
for you

You are a *******, do you know it?
You've fallen for the one person who will
intentionally rip at your heart, hoping
just hoping, to see scarlet drops of blood
mar the silver blade I wield against you.
Be warned my darling,
I will leave you no dark corner in which
to hide your most tender thoughts.
Compassion runs from my bloodhound heart,
it fears the harsh light,
which I intend to spotlight it with.
Run, run as fast as you can,
I promise you can't hide.

You've fallen for me,
so roll up your sleeves.
Do you believe it's going to be that easy?
The marble veins below my skin
service to carry lead from my heart and back again.

Your sweet tongue can do nothing
to dispel my stoic judgments.
Is it supposed to make me feel soft?
You tell me that my skin is different
from everybody else's.
Mayhap your hands are calloused
from working on cars and
permanently numb from the kisses of
electricity to your fingertips,
still my flesh isn't different than yours.
It's only colder,
and akin to the color of death.
Don't you know that
a hand is just a hand?

Bravery is just a cage of ribs.
Bone is nothing but porous bridges
of calcium and other things
that protect our hearts.
It's fairly simple to stop the muscle
that lets us confess.
The sky looks ****** today,
it's trying to warn you.
Pay attention dear, the fun has just arrived.
Promise not to promise anymore and I'll stop, I promise.
Perhaps the next time you knock
on my heart I'll take the chain off the door.

My heart is above love, or perhaps just under it.
I haven't decided yet.

I am the sufferer and you are my God.
I thirst for ******* and defy you not.
I take delight in your daily abuse.
I am the victim and you are my muse.

Give me the pain, please.
Even if there is none.
Project what you think fit
onto my masochistic spirit,
who waits, open, longing
for the jab.