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Batchelor Apr 2020
Recognising the signs of attachment in him,

Jim bought out his handy dandy notebook.

Noting down the signs, taking inspiration from it but shaking on his feet, the feelings were too intense.

Pretense was, he wouldn't get involved at all. That he'd walk away unscathed, that he'd be able to laugh about it while bragging about the good times.


Time and again, he had been shown.
There was no laughing about this.
The hypocrite he was, to not step away from being bombarded with the emotions and torment. A saviour of none.
June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
The girl who printed my heart out on paper, you have my heart.


Your eyes kept scouring for me, yet I remained deliberate aloof : I was tugging on your strings just as hard as your eyes bore holes in my back.


But hey, the black noise covering us was all we needed to look at each other.


That was the closest I've ever come feeling like me : feeling like the boy who once cherished moments like that.


And oh boy, she wants me dead.

Asked if we could become friends, but after the flurry that happened in front of her eyes, answer was no.

No.
No.


Chuckle


It's all a game to me.
Even though she slips away from my fingers, I live for the moment.
The hunter, the boy, the man, the blackguard.
June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
We're running out of skin to cover the brittle fingers, the metal clanging underneath the flesh.


he runs his fingers across her face one last time
she breathes out
it is the sweetest thing he has ever tasted


We're looking into the root cause of the dying emotions, our hearts speaking louder than questions and patterns.


the solid clanging echoing ever so empty in his head
she took what was hers
bring him along
please


We're holding up our hands in surrender, our tears streaming down our faces to get closer to the flame.


the empty space beside him
a quiet day within his mind
the disquiet like empty nights again
she left behind the rain
walking away with his last sunshine
The author falls in love again and again with the Lady In Red, to become his Red Queen, scant few months later.
June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
Feeding the gruel to the children at the youngest age you could.

Then tearing away the bandages that held them together, not even the scars were left.

And it seemed like they would break out of the cycle you placed them in.


Only, they were doomed to become their tormentors.
Here the author laid in stasis, repeating his same mistakes til 2019 was over.
Never tame your demons, always keep them on a leash.
June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
The sun might rise over you.

The days may grow longer and more pleasurable with you.


The night might belong to me.

The nights, cocoon us in our endeavors.


Time keeps ticking by.


Your smile canonised my feelings.


Clueless as we were, we couldn't get enough of that feeling.
The slow ticking of the divorce between the melding of the amalgamation of love and pain.
June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
I who have become the last thing I wanted to be.

What use is it if a man gains the whole world but loses his soul?

Here's to us, you and I.

My downward spiral with your black hole sun.

*I'll trail my fingers down your skin so you can grasp my lips in yours. Excoquere et ego vobis, mi amor.
Before there was the wine and song of the tragedy of the King In Black, there was another, and the concept of dead certain love.
June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
Sweet flowers grace my nose,

Only to be met with disdain.

I still prefer the little harlot's.
Lilith, Johanna, little clone of Janus.

Dana O Hara O Dana.
June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
And then she asked,

Since when did you become such a liar?


I threw my head back, sighing in relief.


Ever since I knew what I had in my hands.


Your heart.
I lament for the pain I will visit on you.
I rage at the agony you gift me.

And I love you, forever and a day, forever and the same.
June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
Burn, burn like the rage of a dying flame.


Scream, scream with the cry of a bushfire.


Flicker, flicker away as the wind puts you out for one last inevitable time.


The bridges are now torched.


There is no you, there is only me.
"May I carry the flame to burn alone" - The meaning of Ignem Feram.

May we all carry the flame to burn alone, once there is no more wine or song left.

June 2017.
Batchelor Apr 2020
Onenitis struck me like the lightning bolt that blew up in my face, like thunder that followed.

You should know, by now.

Underneath the skin, well.
We were all made for some people.

And some of us, for only one in the end.
"Oneitis is the seduction community's play on “itis” as a disease to refer to when a guy falls hard for a girl, to the point of obsessing over her. It is often characterized by the guy making statements such as “she's the only one for me,” “she's not like that,” and “she's different from all the other girls.”

And for that, Rome fell.
June 2017.
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