I'm bored of blue skies.

I'm bored of art, music, poetry, fantasy, movies and writing.
I'm bored of breathing, walking, talking, dancing, laughing and crying.
Bored of train rides home alone, bored of trying to understand.
Bored of remembering my dreams, bored of begging for dreams I can't have.
I'm bored of feeling.
I'm bored of drugs, alcohol, relationships, bars, clubs and pointlessness.
I'm bored of hugs, whispers, kisses, smiles and carelessness.
What to do when there's nothing to do,
What to do when you can't spend time with you.

The view of the city appears washed out
And tinted with sepia during this time of day.
The sun had reached its peak
Bearing itself in motionlessness.

*Ennui swept over me.

A return to these streets
Not to understand the incomprehensible void
Of lost time
Or because of duty bound marks
Left by chains
But for debts yet paid
In full to the ghosts
Which hold the self ransom

Dreary meadows... empty halls...



I soak myself in candle light...



I wash away my form of wax..



In your tears i find comfort...





Bathing in your mind.. makes me relax...



Ravenously devouring your memories....





I am the creeping dark around the corner...



A future distorted, a past discorded...



your present state in turmoil....



Tumbling further into depravity...



A shadowy fragment of what once was you...



Dripping, gaping maws. Elongated fangs laid bare...



Rend sinew and tissue....



Gnawing violently your rotting tongue....



Venom seeps out of every orifice...



As you transpire myself from you



and dress your misery in flesh and blood...



While your sight evaporates...



I roll my eyes out of sheer boredom



Your frail waxen form.. melting in the heat of my hands...



Dripping in dead puddles of discomfort...



Your sorrow festers like mould on corpses....





And on that faithful day you gave birth to me...



You gave me my name.....



When you look in the mirror you will always see...



You will whisper my name...



Melancholy..

It's 3am and I'm awake for the second time.
Is it fair how some people just cruise through life?
What is this dispirited feeling -am I being punished?
I go to bed tired and I wake up tired, overwhelmed with lethargy.
Life happens in slow motion with a sense of hopelessness -
with Red Bull, ***** and caffeine being my only source of comfort.
How long is this going to last?

We are all eternally tired,
but it's not sleep we lack.
Your resilience should be admired,
but it's time to
hit the sack.

Give me rest.
The kind of slumber
that toddlers protest during naptime
but succumb to with a stream of drool
on their rested faces;
the kind of slumber
that enables my grandmother
to nap in a rocking chair
with a book teetering on the edge of her lap,
the sort of sleep
that wakes me up
an hour before the morning trumpets blast;

give me that,

because I'm tired
of the sheets clutching on to me
like handcuffs
engraved on criminal wrists.