I stayed under the stars for too long
And now, I am burning with lust
Life flickers like a candle in my eyes
But my voice gravels like a leaf crushed in autumn
And I lose myself like a gust of wind through the trees.
My words leave bruises like blue prints and they short circuit your mind
Desire stains on your skin, and I map your veins as though they are clues
A key to the map of the course my tongue will travel
Until your hands pull out my hair
And your back arches.

I have stood at the edge of a cliff
And wondered where the light really goes
When the sun sinks into the sea below me
I’m well educated enough to know the scientific explanations
But still I watch every time
That the last flicker of light bounces off of the angled waves
Just to be sure that is isn’t the touch of something holy that causes this entity
But the sand and rocks under my feet
That catch and reside in the soles of my shoes
Remind me that I am merely human, that the world can be explained
But I take a palm full of sand and rocks
And throw it into the sky and out to sea
I take note of how each grain becomes a star
& I wonder if I ever believed in science at all

If my mind is an illness, then my veins are a bundle of unwanted *******, pulsating around deadly oil that smothers the wildlife in a layer of ink. And it follows that my memories are muddled in the soil, formed into mole hills that trip the child as it runs through a field;
In that case, the antidote is a tear shaped raindrop which feeds the plants, almost as well as the eye that sheds it feeds the cheek. And that eye will water many plants. It is salt in their roots, and they will wither and die from the excess eventually.

Sporadic days I remember everything at once
The majority of days I remember nothing at all
I do not know which is the most terrible
Being engulfed by the dreadful ocean
Or the death of one who’s thirst is not quenched

Some days
I feel your griminess pulsating through my arteries
I feel your disgusting presence ruining me
I see the childhood I never had flash before my eyes
And it takes my breath away to know that I grew up before I was ready
I became an adult before I grew hairs under my arm pits
I was troubled before I could even write my name neatly on a piece of paper
Some days I feel like I’m drowning or like my lungs have been removed from my body
But yet, I keep on breathing. I keep on surviving.
I’m an adult now, biologically and mentally
Yet you still hold a grasp over me that I never gave you permission to have
And it makes me feel sick to know that I can’t change that
My past will never change
What you did to me will never change
And because of you, I have to live with that.

You always told me that you loved Christmas;
You told me you couldn’t wait for the air to grow cold
And for snow to cover the ground and coat buildings like the sugar on frosted flakes
So this morning, I found myself crying into my cereal as I watched the sugar melt away and dissolve into a sticky mush at the bottom of my bowl

When I was a child my mother taught  like a dry wipe pen on a board of melamine
Nothing is permanent
But she never warned me
That not all pens can be rubbed off white boards
She didn’t teach me that no matter how much you scrub
There is always a stain on the board that can’t be removed
A black smudge that is permanently etched onto the white surface
She left out the part where someone would leave a black smudge on my life
That can be written over, but never be unseen
It took me a while to figure out,
The only thing permanent in life, are the memories that I am stained with.

Buildings full of people,
Empty people,
These classrooms wear memories upon the tables,
So meticulously cleaned and polished
You could almost overlook the fact that every single chair
Wears scuff marks
And that the corridors have invisible stretchmark’s tattooed into the untarnished paintwork
Caused by thousands of weary souls which once wandered the halls
The carpets are new, and the concrete floors polished
But can we really overlook the hours of hair pulling and escaped tears that these very walls caused?
What a stupid question
How else will we become a success?

I am sprinting from
An ungodly notion
Vigorously contemplating
A lethal emotion

My visual mirages
That the illness devours
Making it dominant
Giving it power

My mind fails me
And the devil enters
Inexorable possession
In my perception centres

MY BRAIN CONTAINS DEMONS
And the doctors DISTRUST them?
But they should KNOW that THIS. ISN’T. MY. FAULT
******* TRAGIC LABYRINTH,
…..on my decrepit brain stem

The only thing I can see through the darkness is outlines of shapes in the shade and wonder if that is all I am

I stay in the middle of the road curled up and listening to those consistent whispers.

I feel like they are never going to shut up, never going to be silent.

The monsters are restless and overpowering.

A loud moan of delusion comes crashing down on my mind.

I feel that it’s trying to get inside and take me away.

Maybe it already has?

I’m utterly alone in confining myself to this insecure life.

I’m in desolation that has insanity scrawled inside it.

But there’s no where else to write.

Craving insistently for this torture to be over.

I’m daring the devil to fight,

But he doesn’t.

My ears catch every voice that whispers, yet I can’t understand anything that they say.

I stay curled in my fragile state, wishing for a car to come down the lane in which I lay.

There’s no building that is not surrounded by the pitch black darkness of the night.

There’s no opening of sanity to show my mind the way.

There’s no escape, only the pain of which brings reality into my personal norm.

I have nothing else to do but lie and wait.

Quietly rocking in the road, waiting for darkness to fade into the white light of death.

Trying to contain my inverse reality in silence.

I must simply wait…..In hopes that maybe one day the darkness will feel like home.