i've got this dark desire
but i keep it hidden locked away inside
used to drink these demons away
but it started tasting lonely

when the lights go out,
i am swallowed by nothingness.
it settles like a blanket over me —
but it is heavy.

the world becomes gaps and blanks.
my mind fills them.
it paints them with my worst fears:
murderers, monsters, you.
you come alive in the dark.
you lurk in the corners,
waiting for the moment
i blink.

but the images don’t move.
they are stagnant-
still, yet smothering,
seeping into skin
and squeezing the breath from my chest.

i say i’m scared of the dark,
but truly,
i fear the corners of my mind
and what they birth
when i’m alone long enough
to let them speak.

Why is it the dark thoughts,  
the shadows that hang at the edges of my mind  
that so easily creep out and stain the page?

Though love and joy may be found  
they never seem to draw my heart out into words.  
At least, not in the same way.  

It is regret and misery,  
longing and melancholy  
that moves my hand to compose

The introspections of my afflictions
what could have been or would have been,  
if only…  
if only.  

Perhaps it frees me in some way  
to trap these long lost deliberations with ink.  
With a time and date scribbled down on paper.  
To bother me no more…  
or perhaps, to bother me all the more  

I weigh the merits on my scale.  
To stand firmly on the shore  
or dip my toes into the water  

To let myself sink into that dark place  
to retrieve some trinket from the depths of my soul.  
All the while keeping my head above the waves.  
But what if I tire of treading  
or the weight of love and sorrow pressed together proves too much  
sinking me down below the air  

If I open this door  
what if no one can shut it

I walk up the steps.
Slowly, savoring the peace that fills the air.
The door stays unlocked.
Everything looks the same- untouched.
The air is warm.
Still.
It feels like home.

I sit down.
It is everything I wanted.
Peace falls in through the windows.
I can feel the sun on my face.

Then I remember.
This place isn’t real.
It doesn’t exist.
I never built it.
I never lived here.
I’ve never felt real peace like that.

I stay longer than I mean to.
Each time, it’s harder to leave.
Safety without questions or emotions.
Like I never had to earn any of it.

It only shows when I close my eyes.
It only holds me in silence.
No one else knows.
But I know the walls aren’t real.
I only built it because I needed somewhere to go.

I stay a little longer.
I let it hold me anyways.
Not knowing the next time I will feel this again.
Even if it is fake.

Then I open my eyes.
And try to carry the warmth with me.
Even if the house isn’t real.
Even if the peace is fake.

And still-
When I close my eyes, it’s the only place that’s home.

Leaving gets harder.
The ache lasts longer.
But I always leave.

Because I have to.
Because this house won’t follow me.
Because dreams aren’t real.
It’s too dangerous to stay in dreams.
Even if it’s the only time I’ve felt peace.
It wasn’t real.
And it never will be.

The warmth fades.
I carry what I can.
Now I’m cold.
Alone.
No safety, no peace.
Even if it was fake, I still had it.
Some part of me always stays behind.
That part is hope.

Hope only exists in my dreams.
I have to let it go in order to leave.
Some dreams live just to be visited.

Smoldered black roses line your garden,
but I’d plant myself there—
under terrain, dry and bare—
and wait with a parched tongue
until the ash is done
corroding my lungs
from dawn’s burnt sun.

When a noble heart is betrayed,
He runs not home, but feeds the flame.

Toward the low, he throws his grace,
A furious fall from a higher place.

As if to curse what once was pure,
To make his past no longer endure.

Not for pleasure, not for thrill
But to punish the light it once stood still.

Spacious silence, I inhale her sweetish scent.
She’s so close, here, internal.
The dawn reveals the horizon,
I can't help but breathe her.
Vermilion clouds disperse where
I will meet her again.

Stars twinkle elsewhere,
the darkness recedes and somewhere behind
I hear the last whispers of the night.
These whispers merge with the rhythm of my heart.
I was with her,
I surrendered to her gloom,
it covered my skin, I inhaled it.
Every beat of my heart resonated with her breath.
The stars faded in my eyes
and I slowly sank in her rhythms.

So high.
Pain no longer mattered.
I devote.

The sun will rise quickly,
blue and white fragments of clouds will fly away
to rain down and vanish into infinity.

Silence seeps in the sounds of a new day.
She is still on my mind.
Our moment is eternal.

She is glaring and majestic.
She lures birds,
makes them return again and again,
lie down on her flows and
slowly die forgetting about food.
Her depth is infinite.
Love.

The wind passes her power.
Storms, waves and the earth -
everything is for her.
She gives and takes back.
And only at the edge
I will look in her eyes.

She will appear with a cry of a rain,
shed unrestrained tears,
the wind will be lost in the agony of fire.
Her mad rage is frightening.
But few know her as I do.
Few believe that she is the love,
to which everyone is doomed.

She is riotous,
frenzied and mysterious.
Her gaze freezes the blood.

When the next night comes,
the moon will cover shadow with cold rays,
I will give all my feelings to its obscurity.

I bow down to her.
She totally fascinated me.

A gentle touch,
A faint smile,
she will smudge
the night sky.
She will weave a wreath
of clouds and stars.

She finally crowns me with that beautiful wreath.
Death.