Creep inside the victim's pain
what did the abuser gain by
tearing her clothes and smacking her
across the cheek in a fit of raging lust?

Now she's nauseated and sore,
with a body both bruised and broken
all because he forced upon her a choice
between an immediate or a prolonged death,
the latter filled with self-loathing
and attempts to retake control
from the beast who thought only
of gratifying all pleasures
and left a shell in place
of a life once lived.

Sip the poison with the cherry wine
and find out which one is more bitter,
but never figure out which gets you drunk,
just regret each gulp you take,
then make yourself ***** with anxious hands,
and omit the passion the runs deep within you.
Fashion a mold to sing a hymn to you.

Weeping as they dealt away my hand, there's nothing
in my fingers but the trembling
of my panicked state; I see that
my future holds nothing for me
except the same misery of the past two years.
My first decade on this earth was
bright & optimistic,
as I went along naively
with the misleading world.
The latter half of my second act has been fraught
with the abandonment of my mind and state of bliss.
Now I'm just a broken boy
terrified of what the third act will hold
and if I'll make it till the end
or if I'll abandon the show
in search of a better ending.

I miss the stupor of a drunken night
spent singing softly in a room of dim light,
not even sad, so why did I cry?
There was a plea for help behind every lie
that I gave them to keep it all under wraps
to throw off the stench of all the mishaps,
like when I blew chunks all over the couch
or nearly got caught with a mini bottle in my mouth.
My hands shake while I'm awake all night
comfortably crying in a room of dim light.

The mountain path cuts close to the bone;
I scrape by subsisting on mud & blood.
I've not seen a face in months, I'd guess
memories trickle, they no longer flood.

Where has Eva gone?
Each day she loses her grip on my mind
take me back to her little cottage
where each face of hers mesmerized and shined

to the point where heart & hearth were so moved
they saw certain scenes in brand new ways.
They captured doomed love by the heat of their hands
and separated us till the end of all days.

Now I trod and plod my way
to hell and back on through the path,
content in a way to waste my whims on nothing
as forlorn mountains still show me their wrath.

An apotheosis awaits me in these streets,
from a lost, timid soul, scarred
by the shallow depths his heart can't reach,
to a vivacious creature, that
only a being like me could create.
The lights dance with the crowd, color crumbles calmly
and cuts through the chorus of lovers
all intertwined and tied together
by the sweet scent and essence of the night

Let me blunt my pain with a pretty phrase
the way a disciple of Kierkegaard should,
the way all poets do:

I Panic with the clarity of the night sky,
all turned about like the captain of a boat
leading his ship of the Absurd
through Sisyphus' strait
till I slip away smoothly
on a rowboat to the immortal land of death,
naively thinking I had cheated my creator
of playing the cruelest trick in the book
(and the oldest too).
But he still gets the last laugh;
an Immortal always does?.