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Batchelor Feb 21
Tried to say something but all I have are maggots falling from the rotten gums
Felt cold and it was the knife twisting and turning rusty in my gut
How did it vanish like houses of cards
A clinking of glass the swirling of colors
Electric scraping on tangible tastes
The moans on loan from cascading faith
Oh Lord Almighty, feel me now as I sin
Wrong you
Lie to myself
Cheat on you
Let go of you
This perfect drug
Are we having fun yet?
Watch as he careens.. finishing in a pile of guilt and torment.
January 2017.
Batchelor Feb 21
It's just so difficult
When old scars remain
When love is supposed to be cherished
Instead bloodied foreheads and redeye is all I get

It's just so difficult
While pain lingers
While hate takes over life
And the broken bones and open wounds
is all I have

Help me I'm in Hell
Help me I'm in Hell
Only death awaits
Whether you come to save me or not
It feels that you will just be content to see me drown
I was a mistake.

I'm playing second fiddle to you.
No such thing as champion for good
I'll gladly embrace the devil in me
If only to forget your promise.
As my heart shrivels up,
And my soul distraught,
I assimilate just enough of guilt,
And annihilate any chance of the naive me coming back.
January 2017.
Batchelor Feb 21
Old feelings bubble to the surface,
Finding my tongue tied and heart slightly scarred from all you've done.
Oh, she who once I called sister.
Bound by ties stronger than blood,
And spirits lighter than wine.
How I've missed you.
Cause you, you just know.
You just do.

And I've watched things on this screen, appear and disappear faster than we both would know.
And her hand, so soft in my cracked palms and ashen lips.
Feel the dark rhythms explode in your breast.

I took myself where I didn't wanna go.
I dragged myself down, I used myself up.
Perhaps you left because of that.
You were being replaced, perhaps that was the fear.

But these blood and tears, erased like the gut-wrenching confessions and years of pain.
Crawl back for more, back for more.
I crawled to shore, not knowing it was running out, the continent shrinking to an isle.

We'll lose the ones we love,
Lose the ones we most adore,
Yet we go on, we go on.

Blood and tears, through sweet release we share in death.

Everything seems so worthwhile.
For a moment.
For a moment.

What is it that I'm waiting for?
Waiting for words I barely know.
Life kicks me in the teeth, but I still crawl through these torrential blood and tears.

And years crawl on, and the death I hold is now complete.

It is a burial at sea.
A Viking pyre.
... And the silent dissonance of perfect insanity.
And here I come to you, dripping from my wounds, blood.
And my tears, phase through my eyes, choke them down with water when you leave me all alone. Here I am, so rock me like the hurricane you are. January 2017.
Batchelor Feb 21
Like a ******'s mess of a mind in a rut to get his fix, I ran from distraction to distraction.
The original sin of knowledge, and innocence lost.
They cascaded like raindrops on my face, and became **** on my windshield.
Slowly, becoming perhaps more bitter and jaded, a basic ***** to life and her schadenfreude.
A single desecration of desexualized thought, and that was it.
I wanted more.

I'm forever missing you.
I'm always chasing ghosts, even if I put them to sleep.
The thoughts hovering like hummingbirds.. for once the sun belonged to us.
Our nuclear sun.
The ray of light that once belonged to me. And me alone.


I miss you.
I'm forever nuclear whenever I think of you, for your voice echoing in my skull is the only thing I hear these days.
The guilt is pronounced even more here, before the chains slip off and memories become nothing more than a way to increase The King's efficiency in his ruthless hunts. January 2017.
Batchelor Feb 21
A little bit of something I haven't kissed,
A little bit of a line I inch closer to

Help me chain myself
Anchor my soul and body

A gradual slow crawl to a halt
Rolling eyes at the visual premonition
Surely this must be in jest, old feelings emerge and though not mine
Niche tastes flap on my tongue
Inquisitiveness turns to desire
Clamping down on the Beast

Time is a cruel mistress, is she not?
Yesterday bought stability
Now today bought sins to light.
eu sunt dracul *chuckle
With the assistance of the Courtesan, darker heart than night itself, Blood And Tears is off to a roaring start. Temptation slides a bit closer than most.. and the sorrow of the sins are cloaked, a little more longer. January 2017.
Batchelor Feb 21
(Let's go)
Up and down the boulevard of broken dreams

(Shy glance)
Across the boulevard of broken dreams

Saw her again
Shy, like my Dana
Sultry lips
With a scent of distinctness
Infatuated with the thighs, tempting
Inviting, so much like an oasis
In the middle of sandy dunes, twin suns

Two steps from hell
Disturbed
Five fingers I raise
Four I keep, one thumb I raise
Dana walks over to me and smiles.
A dissonant step into a landscape in between the events of The One Draped In Orange and Ashtongue, but coming face to face with the Lady In Red ; now the current Red Queen. January 2017, and many more.
Batchelor Feb 17
You saw to that, I'd never stray.
Now everything's tumbling like cards.

Your kisses, were they for naught?
I mean, how could you?

Didn't we promise to grow old together?
Did the sweat of your brow on mine mean nothing?

On this hot asphalt. I'm left alone.
The dissociative identity kicks in and I'm struggling to remind myself why I'm here.

honey it was over before it began
he's so much better.
blame me if you must but know you started the clock.
whatever you feel now you deserve it.

Ah yes. I see it now.
The smokey-eyed stranger.
A scent of days long past.
Soft sounds of lapping water on my feet.
A cloth yet to be stained.
The book that was never read.

and you have no right, love.
shame in grey, shame in color.
you don't deserve love.
the clarions scream and you love in technicolor.
come back again when you can come up here once and for all.
wake up. wake up.

***** it, forgot my pills again.
The first of 2017's series,
Where we bleed into each other,
And my pain starts to leave me, but not without getting deeper.
Batchelor Feb 15
Thus loneliness encumbers my shoulders and heart again.
It feels like a singular kiss, amongst a hail storm of hellstricken bullets.
Snowflakes in a garden of rust.
An amoeba separated from its kin, unable to split.
21 decided to be divided to 4.
Perhaps my worth as a wordsmith wasn't as great as I thought.
Thus the feeling draws on itself, in a constant art and motion, an Ouroboros Serpent.
Like how I used to stammer and stutter badly as a child, ironing myself out but falling and scraping yet never bruising my eagerness.
Nostalgia and adventure are just means for one to hide in security.
Perhaps one day, one day I'll fall in love again.
Baggy pants, oversized shirts and a lioness, wispy and delicate. But alight with fire, with life all the same.
And the rain fell on me, eliciting no tears, but ripped my pores apart, and whiffs of an old perfume, of ghosts. Playing to the tune of yesterday, I swept across with her. And I let her go, as the dust settled on my tongue and ash filled it, and was gone.
The lady who ran this place, bowed and closed the mausoleum, and I asked, "How much for your services?" And then she said, "You couldn't afford it."
I walked away into a wasteland blooming again. There's no sweet taste of victory here.
Only death's touch remains, all-cleansing and all-equalising.
I pick her up, and she said, "What took you so long?"
I sigh.
"It's nothing."
The melodious cacophony of both love and hate, crashing smashing and finally tearing themselves apart. Circa 2013.
Batchelor Feb 15
Your lipstick stain remains on my collar.
Abstract chaos and unquenchable desire stampedes through my veins.
Every breath I take, I suppress this raging impulse to make you swoon, to mark you.
If it was yesterday that made me feel this way, and tomorrow is uncertain, submit as I devour your entirety in my hollowed-out soul.
Perhaps in this cruel mood, this sublime harlot will drown all other thoughts.. save the ******.
The listless fervour, new dew sticky, gumdrops amongst the humdrum.
Inexplicable thoughts short out and fizzle out as the waves from the shores all too familiar
smash again and again.
 Hiccups turned into gasps as measuring standards disappear into a place where electricity takes over.
When the cold days erupt into gardens of dead roses long thought lost amidst secret gardens for a blissful moment where ****, famine, scars and hope all implode for a single moment.
Alas, it is but a single moment, subsiding oxytocin as we turn and face away, and I leave the deed on the dresser.
To walk away and repeat another day, just not with this almost lover.
Shrug it off and return back to your 9 to 5.
The prototypes for Blood And Tears, also known as Basic Instinct, 2017's work.
Batchelor Feb 15
You are the space in between my thoughts.
You are the grand design in which I am overseer.
Atrast nal tunsha -- may you always find your way in the dark.
You are the electricity that runs in my brain.
Closer and closer your lips pull to mine. And I desecrate your innocence in mine.
You have become the space between sentences. The pause between ragged breaths. The dusk of a million light switches turned off.
The trenches & blood rivers.
The bloodied walls and leather welts.
This is a feeling rarely experienced, rolling sadness on my tongue as expressions reveal pained smiles.
Time itself slows to a crawl, as the sadness screeches to a halt.
My godless self, my red draped black cat, my ashen kiss, the ghost, the illusion, the missed connection, the graveyard soil.
And a secret involvement in your ******. A lifelong commitment to uncertainty. Undertaking love, reciting the future, guarding the past.
"Who are you, that you don't know your own history?" - Lonesome Road
The only thing to be colorless, odorless, not have any physical form yet cuts, wounds and festers as if it was alive.
You exist. In rotting words, putrid flesh and fading art.
You exist. In quivering lips, shivering hands and eternal *******.
You exist. In the covenant of the womb, the atoms racing together to create you & break apart when you end.
I'm coming back home to my lights and shadows.
The beginning of another end, the ending of another beginning. Here the start begins, before The Black King meets The Lady In Black. The story ends, in 2019. But for now, the rollercoaster ride of hell starts.. ever so slowly. Circa 2015, to The Other Half, before she is anointed as The Red Queen.
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