do not let yourself fall in love with someone who is similar to me. for someone like myself will kiss you at all of the most beautiful places in the world, just like art galleries, beaches, and sanctuaries, because then you will never be able to visit such places again without having the taste of blood lingering in your lips.

do not let yourself fall in love with someone who is similar to me. if it takes remembering your name among the lonesome souls, i would forget my own if it means remembering yours. i will make you believe that storms are peaceful and that suffering is a pleasure. you will be swept away by the yearning in craving over something that is consistently reaching but never ready to hold you.

do not let yourself fall in love with someone who is similar to me. with someone who are reminiscent like me, i will wreck your home and hurl apologies at you, which will break apart on the floor and hurt you when you walk on them. i will come to fret about having loved you so passionately. i will always be regretful that i gave it my all without stopping to consider that i was becoming increasingly hurting so bad and exhausted. i will always be sorry that i let myself be fooled by the illusion of your love.

do not let yourself fall in love with someone that obviously acts like me—loves like me for the reason that they are all ghosts from the pieces you broke in me. keeping your safe distance from someone like me is not something you should consider doing. people like me are time bombs; when my mission is complete, i will spatter sorrow all over your walls in violent hues that would let you regret your door had never known my name. i'll never master the art of being gentle. despite the weight of our shared history, i would not be flushed away by the chapter of our repressed memories. you will never be free of the shadows you left behind. and the ghosts will forever haunt you.

humans will always find a way to end things and leave.
we always do.

and when i am gone, you will fully understand
the reason why storms are named after humans.

It's funny how people say for others
"Don't judge a book by its cover".
Honey, I've read the whole series -
I still want my refund,
Believe me, that story never got interesting nor pretty.
It was comfort when you're feeling down,
It was home when no one else was around,
It was fun, when you needed a good time to laugh.

Why I want a refund you'd ask?
The magic forest isn't just pretty fairies and unicorns, right?
So was this book.
Cover ain't pretty, but we don't judge it - we give it a try.
Yet, under all the magic,
there's something scary, that could make you lose your pride.
Ugly witches, goblins, trolls,
but isn't the forest also their home?
Story can't always be bright,
But when the dark consumes all the light,
the book is no longer your anchor.
The pages contain ungly spells that make you feel like you're reading something else.
One of the trolls probably tried to trick me - he succeeded.
Can't believe once I've said this book was everything I needed.

Could be the troll,
could be the narrator,
could be just me,
but the comforting fairy tale,
is no longer what it used to be.

And I believe you feel the same way as me,
as this was our first and last journey,
cause the story got way too ugly so we both decided that it's just not worth it.

So, you see, I didn't judge it before,
nor will I do it now.
Yet, I'd like to bring it all back,
wishing I've never read that series nor reach its finale.

My darling,
How I adore you with all my heart.
You are my sun,
Moon,
And stars,
Or something,
All in one.
Yes, I love you more than life itself.

I love you so much that
My passion will quickly burn out.
Three months in,
I'll stop loving you,
Yet I'll continue the act.
You're so precious to me
That I'll treat interacting with you like a chore.
You're so lovely -
You make me want to treat you like a burden.

Sweetheart,
I long to withdraw from you forever more.
I anticipate refusing to hold you at night.
I cup my ear in hopes of hearing your sobs.
I'm giddy at the thought of withdrawing intimacy.
I await the sweet taste
Of crushing your heart in my fist.

My heart, my soul, all of me -
It was never yours.
How long should I lie to you?
A year? Two years? A decade?
I suppose it depends,
I might be able to get use out of you
For a good long while.
When I finally break it off,
I won't have rhyme or reason.
Dearest, you won't get an ounce of closure,
Or walk away knowing what was and wasn't real.

Don't cry, my angel.
This is just my self-discovery.
I'm doing field work
To become a master heart-breaker.
You might've been been first,
But you won't be the last.
Such is a straight man's love.

The past
always seems
To chase after us
When I choose to lie
I've learned to never
Let it go any further
If I know
I did something
That I'm accused of
I confess

I don't want to play
Cat and mouse
Delaying the inevitable
Is the worst game
You can play
And never win

If I did it
Then I did it
And that's all
There is to it

in a land where four languages are official
a church was named only in three; for the fourth
is the language of a weak and fragile faith
whose edicts are above the law of the land,
and whereof knowing a church's name is temptation
and the tempter the sinner and the tempted sinless;
a rock is evil for stumbling the weak,
and if truth offends the truthsayer dies,
and the thief blameless for the rich flaunts his gold;
thus protected by an unsheathed ****** sword
a faith strengthened with every tempter's death

Into the long grass,
the long, long ponder
lost to breath and tears
lost to wonder
lost to the clear and present
or the hereafter
but there in the past
a cancer tumour twisted
all the slow growth
til the now,
this rotten gutted now

I don't lie
Because
When I'm drunk
I can't
I can't lie
I forget how
Or
I **** the consequences
The truth
Has so many consequences
When it follows
A lie
A white lie
Can still land
Like a falling star
Looking so pretty
Up in the sky
But crushing us all
When it lands
Knocked down
By the truth
Don't ask me
Anything
If I'm drinking
Because I'll say it
Wrong
I'll say it
Honest
I'll say it
Crudely
Rudely
Quite un-prudely
And I'll laugh
Like it's funny
To hit you
With the two edged sword
Of reality
Not realizing
I'm gripping
The blade
With my own two
Hands
Coating us both
In enough
Honesty
To honestly
Drown us
So
I don't lie
Because
If I say it
Sweetly sober
Then
We're spared the
Careless calamity coming out crass and crapulent colored lips
Tearing open
Naked truths
I can never
Rewrap

I think of you often.
In the morning, late at night,
but those thoughts go unvoiced,
the mortal touch goes unfelt.

It’s easier to keep to myself,
to avert my gaze deliberately.
It’s safer to keep ravenous.
It’s simpler to bamboozle with silence.