Your touch closes my eyes
I let your words traumatise my mind
Your breath dampens my skin,
Provoking apocalyptic thoughts from within

The trickle of your touch
Is eating at my mind,
I keep your desires fed,
Thirst and hatred intertwined

Disrupting my insides
My lips escape discordant harmonies,
As in you I confide,
That the truth's foreign to my eyes

You remain my fixation
A sinister hallucination
Occurrences of formination
Are my self-rehabilitation

I would like to ask you Russos, why Tony Stark is dead?
And who the **** dropped you both on the head?

Cap needs to apologise and his found family,
Nat needs less lies and strong female company.

Thor’s depression should not be overlooked
And where the **** did Pep learn to cook?

Stop letting Fury traumatise a child,  
And for once let hope do something wild.

Stop dropping our favourite characters off cliffs
Stop saying you’ll fix it in ‘what if’.

Strange’s PTSD could not be cured by magic
And yes Clint’s story is tragic,

But that does not excuse his ****** spree.
Why aren’t more characters more like Rhodey?

Maybe try reading the comics your work should be based on
And we’ll try ignoring your obvious *******,  

For self-insert fanfiction with you as the token gay character.
Because representation doesn’t fit your parameter.

For all your stories I have one simple wish;
Stop making us cry over ******* like this.

You're such an awesome little cat
Your life started with "I am not disposable"
The most heart wrenching sight to behold
A tiny black scrumpled up mess
You're now our loved "Scrawny black rat"
You don't like to be held
About a minute is your limit
Then your sweet tone ... mmmmmmhhh
Not happy you grimace
So I put you down
I will never traumatise you
Just build a cool world around you
I love it at my meal time
You jump up in my face
You just can't help yourself
You have to investigate
And taste .. and what do I do
I let you cause you make me melt
Still small with the heart of a lion
I'm so glad we saved you

today, i read our favourite book for the first time since you left me

i fiddled with the little edges of each page as i imagined the creases of our palms that once caressed it with a passion almost unknown to the world. how together, our fingertips caused friction between the prologue and epilogue that united our beginnings with endings so fervently. then, i remembered september 17:

when you told me to look out into the distance with my eyes closed tight to search deep within me so that when i opened my eyes, the image of you would be all that i kept inside from then on. when i opened my eyes, however, those brown eyes, black hair and chapped lips showed me the light amidst our darkness and clearance in the mist that we had pathetically created for ourselves.  it showed me the undeserving being that i had moulded, my own protagonist that i played as you fell in love with my facade and wall of escape.

you had fallen in love with a fool. a fool who read too deep between the lines and connected too many dots to form constellations that were unthought of. one that drank too much coffee and stayed up to form rivers and blood banks that could traumatise even the toughest man on earth. one who tried to stand in the middle of the road when the red man went on while the green man took his break.
one who let you go like a helium balloon liberated from tiny hands while you stood firm on cementless ground. one who ultimately failed to love you right, when love was all you needed.

and as i read those pages that bounded our heartstrings together, the idea of lost love and dog-earred arguments smacked me right in the face where your image had remained engrained. and as i stood alone in the alleyway where we had laid our remains, i replayed the way you left me that saturday and fell deep into the underground to suffocate, this time never to return.

Is hate
the opposite of compassion?
Is hate
the motivation to malevolence
instead of caring
for the joy and happiness of others?
Is hate
the motivation to harm
instead of helping
others to be joyful and happy?

Does hating others
stress me,
traumatise me,
and make me unhappy?
Yes it does.
Therefore,
should I avoid
hating others
to increase my joy and happiness?
Yes I should.

Does hating another
make the target of hate
unhappy?
Yes it does.
Therefore,
is a society
in which some people hate
other people
an unhappy society?
Yes it is.

In a joy-and-happiness-society
should every person avoid
hating others
to increase joy and happiness
for themself
and everyone in society?

In a joy-and-happiness-society
should people who disagree
retain compassion for each other?

Always discharging  projectiles  to the left hand side
of my perception, misguided attempts to  traumatise
                             every aspect that follows your breadcrumbs.


But I'm not one to follow the hunger of love,
         bruises show the path that was unyielding
to the malleability restricting my tangibility

            of every needing.

Wondering on the grains that you cant follow,
                       I told you I was always here..


I walk barefoot, so that you can t follow the steps,
             that you brought.


    Its hard for your love to fathom that i no
longer need to follow the footsteps of tears..

Mine are dry and you'll never follow me...

I've found that there are many choices in life.
From the second I open my eyes,
the games of charades begins.

Should I eat all of the croissant now?
Or over the next few hours?
Black boots or red?
Do I die today or will it be a few years?
Hair up or down?

Bus or bike?
Will anyone shed a tear for me?
Coffee or decaf?
Or would I only traumatise them?


Paper or plastic?
Would my soul rise from rotten flesh?
Cash or credit?
Or does the mind fall silent after your
Last beating drum?
    

     So many options these days!
They gasp.

     Yes, we like to keep you guessing.
I smile.

      Have a lovely day!
Perhaps I'll do it today.
      I hope you do too.

      I can help the next customer.
Perhaps tomorrow.