she was red with love,
full of it; the feeling oozed from her skin
and dripped from her laughter like honey.
love stuck to the walls of her home
and she painted with it;
her life was a canvas and red was the colour
and your hands were her paintbrush.
i guess you didn’t realise
that her colour stained other people.
(his lips used to be blue but they’re purple now.
they probably taste different too but
you never asked her if they tasted sweeter than yours)
your own skin was the colour of moss.
dirt was under your fingernails.
your hair was full of splinters.
her hair was always so soft
even when you ripped it out of her.
she’s all red now.
even her throat is smiling.
she still laughs in technicolour.

I'm that record player that keeps going on,
Playing the same old, outdated song.
I'm sorry.
All my poems spout the same cliches now.
Hell, I'm the embodiment of those cliches now.
I don't know why I'm suffering from the disease
Years after my exposure to patient(s) zero,
But here I am, sick, bed-ridden and sleep-deprived,
Scratching sores I thought had long healed up.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I don't see colour anymore,
Just the monochromatic shading of decay.
I don't know how to pull myself back up again,
Can't remember how I did it the first time.
I was a ticking time bomb without even realising it,
And I don't even know if I've exploded yet,
Or if this is just the precursor, the countdown
To ripping apart everyone in my vicinity.
I'm sorry.
They say pain makes for the best artists, the best art,
But I'm too repetitive to make anything good.
Even the violent strokes of red have turned dark grey,
And they get darker the further down the abyss I go,
Where the darkness is so dense that light can't penetrate,
And I don't see the nightmares that have come back.
I'm sorry.

we sweat the small stuff and get upset
ready to deflect what we don't expect
storms spread and we get so wet
bad weather that we'd rather forget

we preset our heads to reject
whatever we don't see as correct
we've all bled and shed tears of regret
it's our necks that we try to protect

when letting two hearts connect
reverence has the better effect
it's the common threads that we neglect
instead of accepting we choose to except

solely engrossed, slow to emotions
prone to be a soul that is broken
lowly focus, frozen devotion
vocal notions erode when unspoken

(doing fine, i lie with a smile
while i fight my own quiet trial
i clear my head, i'm alright for a while
but
a mind that is clear is a mind in denial)

goal, avoidance of a throat opened
my vocal notions will go unspoken
choking on the voices stolen
prone to be a soul that is broken

It begins here,
Undecipherable death.

The dying of the light
With tearful glazed eyes.

Here the soul is at a pause
Waiting to be set free,
A hurried rush to Awaken.

- the body fights to last breaths

Drowning in the world
Drinking life's waters,
The soul swims free.

Far ahead,
A darkness in the light...

And the soul has eyes that see
All things all at once in the lives
Lived underrated and unfulfilled.

-the body wants to live

The shadow grows deep
As sky black becomes a fertile
Ground upon which the soul
Glides watching a piece of everything.

Upon the immensely empty darkness
The light surrounds it,
Suddenly the soul realizes the abyss
Is within, calling itself humanity.

- the flesh craves life

Like a forest of insomnia
Suddenly awakened by a fire,
The soul sees all its lives lived.

The life is dried up,
The river has no source
And the living waters are dried:

Vanish soul,
Awaken in the corridor of wombs,
Be born again and fill
The bottomless being,
   The pregnant life
Of a tired soul awaiting the depths
Of understanding, confusingly conflicting.

- the body wants to feel

This is the bottom
Where souls meet and find
That the darkness resides inside them,
A silence befalls all-

Become the ocean that fills itself,,
Contemplate the premature death
Of stars that we constellated to
Our hopes and dreams,
Piece together the eclipse of understanding
That had escaped you until
Now,
The spiral concludes,
Immortal soul that cannot find
The light,
Children of the Master,
Return and fill the void,
You will hear in every life
That you have filled one cup
At a time,
And when you realize that your
Ordinary was extraordinary
Then the void is filled
And we return to our celestial navigation.

-the body wants to live

Autumn comes when my sadness
Arrived like a cold blanket
Of leaves,
The fleeting sun with short days
And rainy sessions of music
Too melancholic to feel
Any ray of sunshine.....

But I like my pain,
It holds firm to memories
That tie it all together,
The glow of a quarter moon
On my drowning lips speaking
The way I used to hold you,
The way you wore me like
A robe folding every curve
Around me:
How much the depths of my soul
Want to see you in a certain
Light, passing me even as air,
Yes,
The pain with final skies
Which calls for anguish in a flowering
Darkness leaving me
Nostalgic and scattered,
Yes,
I like my pain,
That is how I know it was real.