The fields of gold—
Looking grave
as past faces
caught up quickly,
smothering any presence
with smoldering reminders.

Alas, the echelons of memories
stood tall, like soldiers
steadfast, unwavering
to the imminent fall.

They remind him of his reflection,
belabored by reality’s labor.
Lines buried in sand,
etched onto his head—
burning coals of souls
that throttle his legs into motion.

He runs, and runs,
coerced to send the sun
his kinetic aspirations,
to deflect and reflect,
to dissolve prophecies beleaguered.

For it is he
who devises the Devil
of his own doing.

It would hurt if I adored you any more than I do
because this is another page out of the same book

A bad habit of mine
A way to pass the time

But it's true that I'm crazy about you

Sometimes it feels like coming home
the way we talk
as if all hope isn't totally lost

You could never want me as much as I want you
and that's alright

This is just a trust exercise
an attempt at love
by someone far too traumatised

Half of me
has given up
and the other half
hasn’t even started yet
it’s always been like this
myself vs. myself

the battle of two stubborn selves

they take turn
in winning fights
I’m so confused and tired
to root for both
each time

It’s a twisted game.

I play myself.

I'm a demolitions expert of renown
Star of the show, the talk of the town
A destroyer of worlds they say
Or at the very least a destroyer of one

Voices rang inside my head
When things were good in my life
The urge to sabotage, the want to destroy
The desire to go off-course, the desire to stop

It has been there for as long as I can remember
Guiding me to the dark path
More often winning than being ignored
It was something I blamed for the way things are

But that was just me, my subconscious, my insecurity
Molding my decisions to be as suboptimal as possible
I need to accept, and got to learn accountability
Face the consequences, and fix the broken crucible

I want to destroy no more, for destruction is already here
Already suffering for the mess I have made
What I thought I deserved, I definitely do not
Now I have to make do with what little I have left

Let it stand as a lesson, let it stay as a warning
Beware when you light the fuse and watch the sparks
They may shine beautifully, but they are searing to the eyes
And if you do continue, give the big boom my regards

Like an experiment
What makes you this way?
Ask 'why' one more time but make it twelve
Repeat reaction

You'd move the box if you tripped over it as much as you do yourself, silly goose

Why do you need it?
You're not a vampire
Nor a Ferris wheel

Get it together

the best way to sabotage
success having unrealistic
expectations

keep the photographs
the city is overexposed again

take more walks in the nearby woods
the world we knew as children

watch out for frogs and detonators
mind the wires

new aerial boundaries at dawn
no one steps inside by choice

adapt to the proper order
and no sleeping under tables

the reflection tower is a good place to start
tourist trap, a certain approximate

bring the thing under the couch
in case of an unexpected visitor

more nightmares cut out of the newspaper
what is an Astra 600?

three different hat sizes
Hannie says yes to ménage à trois

the joy in discovery
the joy in forgetting

like God without a compass
not a lot, just forever

An unconscious self sabotage
The reprimanding echo
A bed of invisible nails

Without the smallest clue
What was this discomfort of?

Exhaustion, a cage without doors.
Menial tasks turned impossible
Stumbling around all dazed

Dressed to the ninth in neglect
I keep forgetting to live.

the most painless way to leave is
non-arrival.
self sabotage as absentia.
the only loss
lacking malice.

i did not want you to get close because
i did not want you to get too close.

i did not want you to take up space for me as i did not
want you to want the same from me.

im not sorry i didn’t want you
im sorry you did want me

self-sabotage as non-arrival.
self-sabotage as a convincing half-truth.
self-sabotage as a refuge.
self-sabotage as the lesson.

It's okay to lie down underneath your blank ceiling
Until twelve, one, two and counting...
Cutting your skin to pieces,
Eating your unfavorite chocolate Reese's,

Until your body fall into sleeping,
Mixing old dreams about running away
From a cult or an unknown creature
From someone you know or a foreign soldier.

It's okay to make mistakes as you run
It's okay, as they say, "You're only human. "
How you talk and swear too much through our thread
How you ignored and made every part of them bleed
How you call your every episode special
How your own mess and theirs wrestle

Until you open your eyes to see the same ceiling,
Still blank but with a hint of late morning blaze.
Time to repeat the same heat without healing
I apologize to you, one from the doorcrack who gazed.