'Kiss her ! Kiss her ! '
The voices chant in his head
' She's drunk ! She's drunk ! '
They urge him to do it .

He leans down
A smile covers her face
A word slips out of her mouth
Two lips shut her up .

Her mouth tastes like wine
Her tongue is like a vine
Coiling around him
Like a snake*

Let's just hope this isn't fake ...

The songs of the Old
Play from time to time
Stories untold
Hidden in the rhymes

An ancient mystery
Chimes in the music
Under a melody
Are words mystic and cryptic*

Sing , sing until the moonlight brings
Out the worst nightmares that
Dance in your head this song to a beat with multiple meanings
Once the light dies , shade your eyes and become the light's combat

If there are ghosts in this place I think they're of me and you
Not of everything we were but of everything we were meant to be
You've always been the girl who's astounded she can't breathe
When she's spent two weeks filling her lungs with water
What a dangerous person to love
But I still remember what it meant for me
To drape my sweatshirt on the back of your desk chair
Light from your tv in the dark shines bright in my mind eye
Even though I've tried so hard to keep it buried under this garden
But how can I expect to be happy picking flowers that make me bleed
And I swear to God if I could face the guillotine to be rid of them I would
But ghosts seem to thrive in the dying fire
*~W.C.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

I want your lies
To coat my tongue
Like a drugged serum

Kiss my skin
Like you mean it
Love me hard enough for me to feel it

Touch me right
Open me like a present
Lets hope this is not just a figment ( of my fantasies )

Baby , baby
Come and take me
Make my  night just a bit better after you visit

The pain is fresh
Like a wound that hasn't closed
But whenever my gaze
Wanders into yours
I can practically feel
Your arms around me
Pushing me up against
A wall
Your lips smothering
Your love onto my lips
And my body submitting to you

Don't lock the doors my child
nor the windows tonight
I like to watch you sleep
Drown you deep
Under your bed,
my private revelry
your Tears and Fears,
I wear as jewelry
Your angel is dead
In your head,
I pull the strings that make you cry
make you scream 'till your mouth runs dry
Smother your lips with my lies
Creating a wound
To feed the flies
I am your beautiful monster
creeping into your skin
in your slumber
I'll keep you safe in this nightmare.



-Your Angel Is Dead, Margaret Austin Go