You are a lantern
And I am but a moth,
Gazing in awe at your beauty and welcoming presence.
As if in a trance, I draw near
And bask in your warm light
Too enveloped in your grace
To notice the corpses littering the floor.
You burn my once-gorgeous wings until I can no longer fly,
You sear my retinas so all I can see is you,
And yet I can’t leave, too reliant on your heat.
And just like that, a switch is flipped.
Your light goes out.
And I am left alone with only the wreckage you brought me
And the knowledge
That it’s all my fault.

You whisper
drunken promises
through red-rimmed lips,
eyes softer than the fading sun.
Like the kisses on my face
and the shattered pictures on the floor
they'll be broken all too soon.

My life is private, my secrets drenching in hopeless fear.
I express out loud, longing for admiration.
Yet, I hold everything in, saying nothing, no word my tongue could ever expose.
Fake friends, liars, backstabbers...
They only miss me once I’m gone.
I left, secretly disappeared without a knowledge to anyone.

But once they know I’m gone, is when they start to miss me.
I’ve moved on, left the city and started new in a different one.
I left like the wind with a cold dryness in the air.
Unspeakable, they only coming back cuz they know I’m not around.

Incomplete, I’ve learnt to never trust anyone ever again.
Deep thoughts hit and I know what’s going to happen before it does.
Caused by experience, pain, loss, and abuse.
I avoid it all, and seclude myself in my mysterious fantasies that will never come to my reality.
I live life in despair, knowing that I’m the curse, the darkness itself.
I’m the person who’s devil you speak the name of.
I’m your nightmares in your lost daydreams.

Too much intensity, I may be trouble.
But my deceiving nature has you thinking otherwise... doesn’t it?

Maybe it’s just thoughts of people talking about me constantly, even though it’s not real.
Nothing is.
My illusion is my nightmare and my delusions is my reality.
Im never going back.
They probably never going to see me ever again, but I guess it’s satisfying to make them think otherwise.
To make them think that I still love them and we probably still friends.
But when I was around, where were they without my effort?

Without my effort, everything is at loss.
I prefer to label these people as my aquaintances.
Calling them my friends is just a facade to cover up my intense loneliness caused by my experienced deep ridden trust issues.

I have no friends.
I like it that way.
I stay detached cuz people are worthless to me.
I like being alone, it’s my new cure.
With my seclusion, I am nothing more to be.

If I call you my friend, please don’t get confused when I ghost you and never actually talk to you, but I end up coming back few months later saying how much I miss you and love you.

Don’t we all do that?
This darkness of truth and lies all hidden inside of us.

Disappearance, keep your distance.

at times the sky
takes the form
of an altruistic playmate
but when I look up toward it,
it shatters down
like a dissembled wall
and the black moths
I'd once let it swallow,
r e t u r n
and fly back into my ribs
to be caged again

This palace is grand.

Roses lined the roads that entered,
And a crisp green carpeted the plains that lay beside.

The marble columns rose to the sky,
Their sharp white sending glimmers into the distance.

Warmth filled the rooms,
As too did the scent of Maplewood crackling within the fireplace.

Mould grew spotilly on the ceiling above,
It complimented the flaking metal of the bedframe.
A hole in the ceiling dribbled water onto the damp pillow.
Drip.Drip.Drip.

This palace is grand.