You didn't want to know me,
You wanted to get me,
And got me you did.

Black as the void where her soul should be,
Dark as the wicked grin she flashes always unseen,
Darker than her intents,
Setting her siren like instincts free.

I am somebody’s son.
Isn’t that just
Unfortunate.
That I can bear the weight of,
The sins of,
The cries of,
A father,
A mother,
A sister,
A brother.
Someday, I’ll be something else.
Forgotten, perhaps.
Or remembered as a martyr.
How ironic;
Through my freedom,
My crisp clean kingdom,
I am trapped.

your mind is playing tricks on you again

it's not safe

that girl you know
it's not you
you don't know her

her face is familiar
you see it everyday
you use her to type these letters

she hates you

you don't know why

she's beautiful
but you can't tell
she doesn't want you to know
all the truth's of the world

open your eyes girl
you can't trust her

I inhale the dark mist of self sodomising reflections like it were the sweet smell of nostalgia; Lavender on my pillow playing soft symphonies of content. This is no longer a reality but can be re-lived through memories, through a silver-lined portal of pretend; the face staring back at me, I know, is a devise; all fogged by want. This is the face I choose, the one I wear today. It may change, but for now, like a magic trick, smoke and mirrors guard me and my secrets.

His left hand flourishes
                                                                But­
The audience watches intensely
                                                       ­     There
The motions dazzle
                                                          ­          Is
Everyone paying attention
                                                   Something
Unexpected
                                                               Else
The illusion is shattered
                                                 Transpiring

           The magician takes a bow.