I could stare at myself in the  mirror for hours.

It starts in my extremities.
a chill creeps its way into my abdomen,
and cements my joints.

The bacteria residing in my intestines
dine on my organs for supper,
they blow up my stomach until I'm
pregnant with air, my non-existent baby
forcing thick liquid out every orifice.

It tickles,
when the flies visit my rotted skin.
Their steps light and playful,
turn sinister, and force their way into my
open mouth to lay their eggs.
I wait, as the larvae devour
my brain tissue.

When I have nothing left to give,
I'll pull down my lower eyelid
and let the maggots slide out.

Feast or famine.
The dry summer or monsoon season.

It’s not as though he had
murdered me.

That would be easier to
prove. There would be

no hiding
the blood of it.

And how I did bleed—
years later,

red all over it.
Improper.

Fuel for the fire.
Combustible.

But nothing trembles
as I weigh the being

of my existence against
what stoppage.

Order or chaos.
Black or white.

What has been spoilt
rotten can never be

golden. These are
the questions I ask myself:

Am I loved? Do I
love? Can I love?

While there is the story
he tells himself, reassuringly:

It was just ***.
It was just ***.

I just open myself to the pain
Like a rotten wound that never heals
And my cursed soul can never rest,
Consuming itself from within.

My tired eyes have cried so much,
But my silent scream was never heard.
How could I ever think that I could win
On this unfair battlefield which I call life?

The Universe laughs at my stubbornness,
While throwing me back to the ground.
My rotten soul surrenders with a pity song
Searching for what's left of it.

Let the rotting
rot.

the way i clean my teeth
before i taste your tongue
seems obsolete
because your lips are
muddy with unsaid lies

I've been sick for almost a week .
Everything around me seem so inverted .

This bed and my body started to stink of rotten flesh .
And thoughts disappointments made me more miserable .

YES ! I am disappointed
And this disappointment is like a illness
This time it sits inside me .
I didn't get it by my expectations .
I had buried them long ago .

Why did you tainted that beautiful
Fragrance we had .
You've failed in every area to keep my emotions treasured .

At the end ,it is what it is .
And I am getting my pockets full of disappointments without even expecting .

Just because we smile together ,  doesn't mean I am happy .
Everytime i try to get closer ,
Feel that feeling of pisthurism ...
Do you know what I smell ?
Burning faith .

nor a fox not wise
with claws and pipes

a forests breath
with death ripe


just a day in paradise,
that's all i pray.


no fool for a price
nor a herd for a prize

malfunctioning slight
chocked with parasites


just a day in paradise,
if it wasn't for today.


spoiled thoughts
and foiled spite

caught then boxed
with no air to bite

lost and left,
kept for the nights

in transparent red
herein painted quiet


just a day in paradise,
for the one who pays.


in a stranger's head
with debt of dice

where heaven lays
and the dead shall rise

seven solemn days
that'll never come twice

mourning for prey
by a mornings pride


just a day in paradise,
for a day in paradise

if it wasn't for today.


kissed by the fire
shut with wire

no word nor desire
and made in ice


broken prism's charm
in arms of a lover
born away and in white

doused in hope
and not a dime to pay
no dream nor life


just a day in paradise,
and it'll never go away.


where beauty slays
and inferno hides

dante's meal
and a mountains might

where a valley bleeds
from a pelters diet

melting the stones
and people alike


just a day in paradise,
that's all there's to say.


whence scars bleed
opened far wide

and the hour sleeps
in fear and fright

where words fail
to tell and describe

rotten and stale
fighting the lights


just a day in paradise,
for the one who stayed.


nor a fox not wise
with claws and pipes

a forest's breath
with death ripe


just a day in paradise,
and that's all i pray.