"There is a lack of redamancy, you haven't let me open my mouth for at least a month. You had a lot to purge out, I guess. I want to tell you I love you, more than he ever will, I want to tell you I'm a part of you, more than he'll ever be. You are superlunary, I don't compare to you. But please remind yourself, I'm keeping you alive, though I am not God. But in a sense, I'm locking you here on Earth, I reside in your gut, I am the reason you're not giving up. All those plans and checked off to do lists, all those goals and visions...we make them just so we've got multiple anchors to make sure we do not sink. Every substance we use, every material, is a little helper: "you should stay alive because of this." Though my tendency is to hate, I have no hate to spill. Only admiration of how far you have come, of how much you have stripped me of any malice I contained. I came in hungry, ready to devour you, but you tamed my jaw with thorns you've watered for too long, and oh darling, I beg you to stay strong."

- Anti

You may think you have no shadow.
But I see it dancing behind you.
I can't see it's face,
but I'm sure that it's smiling.
But it's no smile of fructose.
Just of bile and scorn overdose.

With topography riding limbs.
In seamless synchronisation
with yourself.
I hear it whisper and hiss,
with sounds of ****** bliss;
At each unseen bruise inflicted.

Oh lady please.
Making poems 'bout you,
now I've tried,
Sing dedication,
haven't tried.
Being nice af,
that I've tried.
Being kind and sweet,
god, I tried.
You see friends are everything.
I want to be all kinds to you
The same goes for you
No malice shall be involve
No ill-motive lying.
You're my friend
But please stop and listen.

You're searching for even the slightest validation for your inexcusable actions, transient in both values and the physical realm, collecting conquests and usurpees like how one might collect trophies from animals they hunt, faces frozen in a false expression with unseeing glassy eyes as they are forever immortalised in your sick collection to be made a mockery of long after the passage of time takes it's toll on both the images and the subjects.
A calculated maliciousness disguised as an indecisive personality, you are a bottom-feeder grafting onto the bellies of whomever are blissfully unaware or trusting enough to swim by you; but your own is yellow as a summer's day is long; not from just cowardliness, no, but from **** (sans the vinegar), and I wish I could compose this prose into something a little less hateful and a little more tasteful, but I won't spare you another second of my time, I'll erase you from my mind.

I say I'm
not looking
for love but
I'm looking
I'm catching
cold glances
from eyes filled
with the weight of
sorrow been cast in gold
My purposeful fingers
reach up for money from
the gutters, this,
is just what I'm told.
Enter my ears,
enter my eyes,
enter my skin,
into my lungs.
I'm not breathing
oxygen if I exhale
byproduct. I'm out
of luck, won't press it.
I'm out of reason in
speech. Beyond
preventable death.
Regret, turned to
malice. Chest
compression. I
could have been
a good person.
What value in gold,
if I have you?

Maybe the majority of your malice march is fueled with fire;
fictionalized by myself. Simply because my greatest desire is
currently to avoid knowing that you long to hurt me. Dear, let
me tell you this; **I know everything.

The crocodile, left questioning his own tears,
he never saw the malice in his breath,
he sobbed "I haven't eaten for a month now"
as you walked willingly into your death.

Let's build a world
of laughters
and choral singing
against a realm
of malice
and suicide bombing

© Matthias Pantaleon

I love to take in truth,
but act out lies.

I look for all sorts of proof,
but ignore the impending demise.

For someone in their youth,
I have a lot of worry lines.

Beating my head against you,
like a slightly saner Amanda Bynes.

You keep telling me I'm okay,
and maybe we are fine.

But there's something in the way,
I keep saying all my lines.

What is the reason for my dismay?
I believe it comes from a different time.

I keep praying you won't let me push you away.
But I've got a self-destructive rhyme.