The everlasting scorching sting of the scourge
Scarlet globules cascade like autumn rain

With the whistling whip my flesh shall merge
I shall revel in the fiery delight of this pain

Every luscious lash leaves its sacred imprint
Adorning the skin with the symbols of zeal

Yet it is not in the name of divinity’s glint
But rather a flaring fire which very few feel

Like a stray mongrel with its tail set ablaze
I shall forever be led by agonizing gratification

Enchanted by a hypnotic hot-blooded haze
A cycle of sensational pain and painful sensation

Two souls apart from all the crowd,
in love and hate, both fierce and proud.
Through beauty’s light and sorrow’s rain,
we cling through joy, we cling through pain.

For in thine eyes, my truth I know,
and neither heart will let it go.
Thine eyes hold truths no stars could hide,
a mirror deep where my heart abides.

No chain of earth, no hand of time,
could break the bond that makes thee mine.
We keep this fire, this hallowed whole—
and drink forever from each other’s soul.

...

26th day of sobriety, of self-respect  
Detox can be spirit-breaking.  
It often feels like a slow death.  
The cravings pulse with each heartbeat,  
leaving you drained,  
urging you to reach out —  
perhaps by texting, sending an emoji,  
Or maybe just "liking" a post
Consumed by the need to stay attached to what is familiar.  

You dwell on old messages,  
waver between memories of sweetness and pain.  
But one day,  
You find the strength to release them.  
You erase the old threads,  
delete the contact,  
and reclaim yourself.  
You might still relapse  
until you learn to recognize the red flags  
and to stand tall in your conviction  
to avoid repeating the toxic cycle.

Father.
Your here.
But yet too far to reach.
You hang on to me like a leech.
draining me of my smiles.
I could tell you the total amount of floor tiles.
Since the floor is all I look at,
when I'm being lectured by you.
Each scar caused by you.
Every drop of blood I lost.
was from every line you crossed.
You always said you'd do no harm.
But every time you said,
"are you done crying like a *****"
Was another tally carved in my arm.
When we're together the silence gets thick.
Like the smoke from your cigarette stick.
But I live in the silence.
Especially since,
The feeling of your hands around my throat.
Still lingers from the time you had my neck in your hold,
and I nearly passed out from being choked.
But I guess it's fine now.
Since you put my trauma in a pretty nightgown.
You say I'm always overreacting.
And that I have a future in acting.
But your wrong.
I have a future in acting,
On my emotion.
Acting on compulsion.
You raised me this way.
Don't get scared now that,
I have **** to say.
You say family never wavers,
Never shakes.
That's of course until the glass breaks.
But yes, lets fix this.
For god's sake.
Let fix this just for it to fall again.
Just to watch you cry to God,
while I say amen.
You don't want to acknowledge my mental health.
You think you can handle it yourself.
But I need more help than you can give.
All your doing is draining the life,
I want to live.
But of course, you never see that.
You never think "hey maybe he's broken"
Let me get him the help he needs to fix that.
But you know what.
I don't want help.
I want you to look at what you've created.
Look at the boy YOU overweighted.
Look at all the blood I've spilt in your name.
I'm writing this to give you all the love and fame.
For breaking me until I was no longer sane.
Enjoy the fame.
I will watch while I bleed out in your name.
So, thank you for the pain.

It's as if whenever I told myself
While in fear and in pain how this has to be the worse it could ever be,
i must have cursed those words aloud.

Because the trembling pain i felt before feels more like a stratch compared to now.

Everything that gave me peace and promise is now a devastating lie
that could not be farther from the truth.

And anything that gave me ease and comfort is now completely demolished.

I dream of not waking up in the morning to relive each day with a different plot line when I know I have to face a reality once more that I can hardly bear.

There is a thing I wanted so much--
a thing always denied.
The evil and the angelic made a pact

and placed this desire in my heart
like a ticket hidden in a boot
worn by someone desperate in a station.

I tell people this desire is over--
that I visit its grave on holy days
to leave woven weeds,

but there is no grave because it is not dead--
only paralyzed like an aster when there is no wind,
no sun, no moon, no garden.

There is someone coming up the stairs
to hurt my heart, and they are so lit with beauty,
such an ordinary marvel.

The hallway floor is wood, the light there yellow in autumn.
It is morning, but the birds are mute.
My heart stops, the visitor walks past, the world ends,

but no one notices. There is no fool like an old fool,
no desire that cannot exalt or destroy,
over and over, in silence, like Shiva in a recurring dream.

In silence, I carried a sin
passed down to me—
a curse unbroken,
paid for in full
just to be loved
by someone
who never truly belonged to anyone.

It’s eating me alive,
like a parasite
draining the last light from my bones.
It clings,
slowly killing me
for a mistake
I never made.

I feel like a lost lamb,
wandering the abyss,
blindfolded
by the sharp remorse
that was never mine to carry.

For a moment,
I exist in a world
that never noticed I was here—
like a forget-me-not,
wilted by the road,
meant to symbolize
a love that died
before it was remembered.

And all this guilt...
the pain...
the suffering...

I shall bear it—
until it carves blood from my soul,
and follows me
into the grave’s dark cradle.