If I ever meet you again,
I just want to ask,
Why did you do this to me?
Please tell me why?
But I know you’ll stand there
look me dead in the eyes and ask me instead,
What have I done to you?
What have I done to you?

I won't have any answer to that question
I know I can't answer that but
Look into my eyes,
Look how lifeless they are,
They keep on staring at the blank,
At the ceiling, at the wall
Maybe you have the answer to what  they are searching for

Look at my smile,
Look how broken it is,
But it disguises me quite well,
Helps me to profess I m okay
Maybe you know a way to fix this

Look at my skin,
Look how pale it is,
I have been starving myself lately,
I don’t know what hunger feels like,
Maybe you have the answer to why I m not thirsty anymore

You have broken me into million pieces,
In such a way I can never sew them back together
I don't have faith in love anymore,
Relationships are ****
No, I can't trust anyone anymore
My heart trembles by the fear it will break again
My body fears the touch of a human
For it thinks it will be used again
My soul doesn't seek anyone's company anymore
It cannot endure the pain of separation again
After all of  this, if  I ask you why
You 'll still have that audacity to ask me back cold-heartedly
What have I done to you?
What have I done to you?

I need relief
And so I write
Inside my head
It's far to bright
Too **** loud
The voices within
I drain my swamp
Through  keyboard
And pen

Upon the screen
The origins of strife
Worms in my psyche
Crawl into life
Into your mind
Festering thoughts
Ideologies
Where logic gets lost

Only to be replace
With the latest
Headlines
I drain when I can
To keep a clear mind
....

Once upon a midnight sky
the ice begin to melt
old and gray the end of days
I finally lost myself
I embraced a spark
of love and hope
a dream of you and I
a momentary lapse of reason
beneath a midnight sky

The carriers
of
contagious virus

"Laughter",

deserve
to be
preserved...

Screams of steel,
Parting the night air
Like a ghost ship
And the mornings fog.

Dead man's gold,
Buried below,
Hidden, a waiting
The razors bounty

Blood shed,
Arms holding the hope
One more passionate cut
And the treasures home.

Dig, for the course,
Shall show the light,
The lighted path
As the blood flows

Love is forgotten,
As the blade makes its home
Deeper and deeper,
The cuts become.

When shall the pain die?
Is it when the pain becomes
Becomes too strong?
Or, when the flow stops?