Let me tell you the reason
why I fell for you...

I have never met anyone
who understands me
as much as you do.
The overthinking, the horror,
the darkness inside me,
the teardrops for no reason.
My love for sadness,
longing for it on my good days
and wanting to die for it
on my bad days
then longing for it again
and again, and again.

The Bargain

I met darkness in a quiet place
It sought to bless me with its grace

With a voice so low so sweet and small
I was almost tempted when it called

It offered wealth beyond compare
My every wish if I should dare

To take a chance and perhaps stay
But lose myself along the way

Stifling power with mindless rage
My foes before me crushed and slain

A vengeful promise mine to keep
To let darkness reign all while I sleep

But at what cost I failed to ask
What devil hid in that dark mask?

The reward for vengeance wealth and fame
A soul surrendered …no one to blame

I met  darkness in a quiet place
It sought to trick me with its grace

With a voice so low so sweet and small
I felt temptation when it called

REA '19
(Excerpt from a WIP)

Listen to the words
Wind whispers in your ear
Full moon is here again
Be quiet - they are near

Don't let them hear you
Maybe they'll go away
But pictures in your mind -
They stay

And darkness knows
Your every move

The creatures dancing in the night
Spiders in the corners
Hiding from the light

Let's all go
to Damnation Island.
Let's all go to
the lunatic's ball.
We'll  have
amusements, and
dancing, and the
magic lantern.
The stupefaction
is for us all.

The poor will
be there,
hungry
and tired.
The poor will
be there,
dresses in rags.
We'll all have fun
on  Damnation Island.
The degradation is
for us all.

The criminals
are on
Damnation Island.
They're dancing and
killing at the
lunatic's ball.
The criminals love
Damnation Island.
The mortification is
for us all.

If you go to
Damnation Island,
if you dance at
the lunatics ball,
you might stay on
Damnation Island,
there's a good chance
you'll sell
your soul

I could stare at myself in the  mirror for hours.

It starts in my extremities.
a chill creeps its way into my abdomen,
and cements my joints.

The bacteria residing in my intestines
dine on my organs for supper,
they blow up my stomach until I'm
pregnant with air, my non-existent baby
forcing thick liquid out every orifice.

It tickles,
when the flies visit my rotted skin.
Their steps light and playful,
turn sinister, and force their way into my
open mouth to lay their eggs.
I wait, as the larvae devour
my brain tissue.

When I have nothing left to give,
I'll pull down my lower eyelid
and let the maggots slide out.