Faeried soul and blighted days
Sorrow, suffering, joy, and pain
Things seem hard and things seem strange
Where is peace and where is power?
Growing ever worse it seems
In a world of steel and glass
With no sign of nature fair
Seek the way to align the soul
Power flowing through our veins
Reaching up and reaching down
The power comes from all around
In the centre here I stand
Faeried soul and God's own hand

I can't escape these tears,
that shine when they fall.
I can't escape these fears,
in a shadow so tall.

I've cried so long,
only muffles seep out.
I've cried on and on,
full of eternal doubt.

I'll continue to weep,
'til the pain goes away.
I'll continue to cut deep,
'til my veins give way.

My tears are like,
never ending curls.
Precious and white,
tears of pearls.

I’m broken up about my thoughts never being spoken  

I hold onto those words, my eyes have barely opened

My thoughts are consumed of memorizes we use to share

But now I must strip them off, I’m bare

In the shower I let the scalding water, drop by drop run down my skin

Afraid that I made a mistake by letting you back in

I have bruises, tenderness surrounding my heart

I’m having cold feet, I should have known from the start

That you would create this electric shock passing through my veins

I feel as if we will never really be the same

I scrub off the smell of your cologne from my pours

Just the feeling of your plump lips leaves me sore

I try to wash off the feeling of your finger tips from my scalp with shampoo

But this routine will inevitably bring me back to you

Because I love your touch, your lips, your smell

But that’s a secret I’ll keep from you, will never tell

I’ll count the days until I’m back under your blue satin sheets

But for now I’m left with the mental pictures I keep

ever since your mother told you not to talk to strangers,
you stopped looking at y o u r s e l f  in the mirror
but if anyone at all were to ask me about you
i'd have to tell them how you love the sun
or how you'd whisper in the morning
allthough you are a bomb to me
you told me once that you swear
you had died with me in an attic fire
in a past life that hurt even more than this
that's when i realized i could scream my name
into your mouth, and hear the echo
coming from your chest
that was the closest i could ever get
to your heart
i'd sleep next to you as
you cuddle with your dreams
while nightmares are fended off
by the better parts of you
the ones that put a pin-sized hole
in your heart every time i
cried for you, and you couldn't
return the favor.
every single morning, you'd wake
and the nightmare would return
it turns out that's what was
holding my hand the whole time
i memorized the words in your eyes
it hurt and i
       suffered and i
                  bled and i  
       cried
but at least i did it
now they rush through my veins
out of my fingers, through this pen
i can't let go of it now

Porcelain face,
Scarlet dripping from your veins
too beautiful and vain
for this world it was pain
Porcelain eyes,
Make no disguise, Those glossy tears
they lie on your
porcelain cheeks
rosy red sheek
As you lay,
Like a porcelain dream

There's a Russian school boy with acid in his veins
tripping when he bleeds.
There's a gypsy girl with the wanderlust disease
traveling on dreams.
Yin and Yang meet.
Strangers spilling secrets while the world speeds by,
everything dark and sinister comes out at night.
Different people when the moon shines.
Grey hound blues singing
sometimes people are destined to meet
for stranger reasons than can be seen,
things collide and transform everything.
Grey hound blues sets the stage for new beginnings.

I'd like to lay in the grass like I used to,
Back when innocence lit my eyes from the inside
And shone through my being like a thousand stars in my skin.

My stars got lost inside my veins somewhere along the way,
When I invited charm to sit with me, and
Traded in grass for soft matresses
And innocence for sin.

My weatherworn skin tore, and everytime
My stars leaked through the cracks leaving scars like comet's tails.
They only shine for a short time,
Until they're just a story that you hope someone will want to hear someday.
But my bones are poking through in too many places,
For anyone to believe I'm anything more than fragile.
And everyone's afraid to get too close.

I'll wrap myself in lace and paint my eyes white.
The dirt under my nails will fall away.
But I can't hide the hollowness in my chest,
Because nobody notices that thump-thump-thump
Until it's gone.

Upon thine eyes i see thee
There be breath in thou lungs
Blood flows in thou veins
A beat from within thy chest
Hath thee waited under the great oak?
For thy hath waited under stars at night
Doth thee reach out?
Echoing calls of thy name in the wind
Thy tears yearn for thou warmth
But alas the cold air kisses thyself
The darkness awakens thy senses
For thy hath felt thee when lonely tears do shed

She sleeps quietly
Beneath opaque mahogany
Life seeped from her veins
No more blood drains away
No more hurt will find her
White sheets glistening with rain
Now crusted over with decay
Eyes set stone, glazing over
Light won’t refract from glassy orbs anymore
Broken machine parts
Carefully placed together
Under boxes better kept hidden
Entombed in earth’s clay
Lips sewn shut
Air can’t escape and float into stories
Like butterflies lightly landing
Then flying away
Her story remains forever embedded into her heart
Along with pink carnations
Scattered petals
And empty shells
Ghosts of machinery’s success

I learned to fly with the wings u cut
Euphoria doesn't come that easy
The wounded psyche still cries for help
Neurons they seek the utopia we created!*

..the utopia of hope with the foundation of love, the abstract mere thought .How could anyone build a world in foundation of abstract in a rational world  but if we watch, the civilization is a result of mere thought .We dare to think and a new world is created. Well with the broken psyche and the thought of thinking a new thought I entered my work place. The sounds of society were humming; the cacophony of ward is what I enjoy most. The veins are punctured, the tablets distributed .All I see around are the people, people in different world; the world that is in their minds. Outsiders have labeled them insane. If listening to your brain is insane, if being happier than others is insane; if being lost in your own world is insane then insanity must be a religion........but thanks to medical science and thanks to the trained doctors we still bring people to what we feel is normal .Now my only question is - who are we to decide what is normal and what is not. Normality is highly over rated. If we believe the starting of civilization to be normal then why not move towards the apocalypse. We have a tendency to keep the average as normal. What can society measure by the rules that it created. How can u judge your own facet by the measurement system that you created? That is the flaw I find. The question arises again and again !  All we advocate is free world but I differ, I say why not free mind. Stop measuring thought and stop analyzing brain. John Nash had beautiful mind. Thanks to Ron Howard and Akiva Goldsman... There might be thousands are John Nashes all around the world popping prescription pills and waiting to reboot their brain.
Well just a thought……
-PS

I want to write about hands;
How they grip my throat
And squeeze my lungs
Whenever we make love.

I want to write about burning;
On my body, in my stomach,
Everywhere you touch;
And how it feels wrong.

I want to write about control;
How I feel I have none,
Especially when we become one,
And you’re doing everything I say I love.

I want to write about death;
The death of my innocence,
Of my childhood,
Of my spirit.

I want to write about molestation;
How the word screams at me from inside,
Pours out of my veins,
Makes me choke on my words when I’m around you.

I want to write about coping,
Because that’s all I know how to do.
I learn to love my submission,
Your hands, the burn, my death.

I want to write;
For it’s all I have left.
Something I control,
And something that makes me feel alive.

squadrons deployed. everything permanent is still removable if you ignore it enough. revising your lackadaisical list of priorities. repeat play and an ashtray full of roaches. at this point even nostalgia feels classic. cross your t’s and then just x out everything. circle the names of your favorite cities. hands held, grudges kept. i swear somewhere i’ve got something left. in my head the rescuers are always gonna be the ones who go down (under) in history. everyone else is just running their mouth or grinding their teeth. there are some lies left over but who cares? this might be the worst ever. or the best yet. i guess we’ll know for sure soon enough. i right clicked through this like five times because of what i’ve got flowing through my veins. sidenote: i miss you.

You are always my exception
The one I impair my walls for
For just one drop of potential
The walls that end up throbbing in my veins
When you vigorously step on them to get to your goal
The only one who drives me to the highest level of weakness
by dismantling my morals and making me surrender my values.
You should be able to find them now somewhere lost in the atmosphere
You are one of life’s teachers
and I’m your student who fails your lesson every time
You dissolved all of my sanity with wine and turmoil
That night when you promised me sunshine
And said goodnight by heartlessly kissing my pride away
Because of you I am not myself
Your memories serve as a desperate attempt to fool my mind
into not caring for myself, but for your egocentric needs
I used to follow rules like they are carved in stone,
and my values had just landed on solid ground ...
Until you returned with your rehearsed apologies and believable vows.
You are my saddest, most tragic mistake
the one I'm ashamed to admit to life’s judges
but the one I keep coming back to
to insult my lunacy and unrelenting stubbornness.
You drink all of my pride as smooth as beer on a Friday night
You tear down my walls with nothing but effortless words
and leave me picking every piece from this raw, dusty ground.
You are the one known liar I keep believing in
You are the exception to my indestructible rules
the one mistake I never seem to learn from.
The one who builds up his ego by pushing me back down
You should be so proud to know you have won once again at your own game.
You should be proud to know you are my one and only exception.

The tide is laced in my veins, in every emotion, nerve, cell, atom.
It has taken the ability to love from me because no matter how many times I try to plant a kiss on the shores of someone's heart, they keep sending me way.

The Language of Your Body
Your body says its enough!
Your body says please stop!
Your body is telling you
It hurts... Its paining...
Don't ignore its pleas
It doesn't request in perfect sentences
It doesn't say in polite manners
Your body just shrieks and shouts...
Do listen to the language of your body...
Listen...
when your veins scream in silence
Listen...
when your muscles cry in pain
Listen...
When your tendon rebels..
Do listen when your body talks
Before it expires...
in great pain...

though she  walks  a beautiful  road
    that  is  not  all  there  is.

bathed in brilliance
    flowing through her  being  as  if  it
      were  in her veins.

courage surges from  every orifice:
       a  warrior,  underestimated,   unappreciated

   head  among the clouds
      sun kissed eyes   blind
to  the  adverse

        lips graced  with  a  wisdom  beyond  the  years
  worn
       refined
radiant patience brushed  over  her skin

so though she walks  with  flowers  in  her  hair
     beauty   is  not  all  there  is.

The patterns where random
At least at first appearance
On close inspection
seems there is something deeper
Through the tremble of blades
And the fettered veins
The street I'll cross
Throw up dueces
And dip

The first time he touched your fingertips, you felt electricity shoot through your veins and you wrote it off as static
But now, with him between your lips, staring up into his eyes which are staring down at your body, you realize that he is your electricity
With every ****** he surges you
With every command you feel your mind break
The first time you landed on your knees before him, you gazed dazily as your whole empire collapsed
Now the same fingertips that shocked yours slip inside of you, electrocuting you awake
He ***** as if he is a straight descendent from Zeuss sent to Earth to give you a taste of thunder
His lightning makes you tremble and you can't imagine what your body felt like before he made you scream
You live for his hands grazing over your hot skin as you squirm for his touch
His electrifying touch that makes you call for the gods
Even though you know that the only entity you could ever bow down to is the one who arches your back with every movement
You call to your God, he comes to you with every inch of his being
You feel him deep inside of you, breaking you free from your inhibitions
He holds you down by your throat as your body succumbs to him
His body engulfs yours
You burst from the deepest crevice of your soul
And as you lie there, weak
Feeling the after shocks of the best electroshock therapy of your life
Reminiscing on his fingertips
You realize the piece of you that was missing
Is whispering storms between your thighs as he shocks your heart to life

Through avenues
And boulevards
My toll road
Has had
All the forks
I could handle
Crossroads plenty
Sometimes off-road
Sometimes freeways
Dead ends more
Than expected,
But I'm still driving
Dreams my gas
And love my map,
Never lost
Because
I'm always in the middle
Of everywhere and nowhere,
Interstates and highways
In my veins
Smoking and drinking
The only tuneup
To grease the gears
In my head,
Always grinding
And slipping
But never missing
A mile,
As my odometer
Just keeps turning
Each day another
Street I get lost in...
APAD13 - 059 © okpoet

There is this kind of time in everyone’s life. That was what I was told. I was also told I was peculiar in a nice way. But I am not going deep down all this time and peculiar thing and all. It is just that sometimes I feel so empty and I was also told that when you try to write something you should try your best to describe all sorts of stuffs so that the readers will get to know the kind of thing you are feeling. Like for now, the kind of empty I am feeling. Kind of funny though, who would want to know what I am feeling and on top of that who would want to know the kind of empty I was feeling. Anyway, I was feeling very empty yesterday and I am writing all this because I just thought it was pretty cool to feel empty, kind of, just like that. I am not being emotional and all but that is how it is, you like to feel sort of lonely, sad, happy or whatever at time, just like that. And when I driving on my bike, I speed it up to the most it can bear or most I can bear and twist and turn and run over other motor bikes and stuffs that are moving in the road in a kind of modest way but I know they are as ******* as I am. But hell with that, I don’t want to know if anyone is ******* or not. I can’t even think about the right word to replace the *******. But, you know what I mean. It’s kind of sad to find that everyone is *******. Then, that makes me madder and I speed up more. I start to rip apart my accelerator, literally. You know what literally mean, don’t you? It’s when you do something in a literal way just like when some lousy guy start acting out too corny while they say they will bring down the stars and moons for the girl they love.  To hell with love, love is the stupidest thing that will ever again happen to me and if that happens then I will crown myself with all kind of stupid crowns and be the king of stupid. But love was kind of good feeling too.  Anyway I just try not to end up breaking my neck when I am in bike. But you know then I just intently look at the something something that is coming towards me and then I feel like speeding up more and just encounter that innocent ***** face to face. Yeah, I mean it. I feel like pointing the direction of my bike right to that something something truck or stuffs that, just like you know when an archer aims. You know then, I also have this shrewd kind of look in my eyes, like I am dead serious about what I am going to do. Its fun when you know you won’t but you act like you will. Yeah, I just feel like heading right towards the something something and hit it right on its grotesque face with some silly stupid art. Then, can you imagine what will happen? I can see every ******* retards gathering around me. I am lying down with blood over everywhere. I can see pieces of my grand motor bike here and there. I can see the driver of that something getting out and trying to explain that I was the one who came directly into him as if I was attempting suicide. To hell with suicide. What kind of person does suicide. I can see traffic cops and medics and all. They are just trying to carry me to hospital. But I know I won’t want to go to hospital because hospitals make me sick. There are lots of sick and depressing people around. If they would want to take me anywhere then I would like them to take me to mountain top from where I could see a bluest lake  all the clear reflection of clouds and the greens and rainbows and butterflies and all those stuffs the poets from nature describe in their poem. But I know they are too busy for that. They are some stupid people who just want me to admit to hospital. Anyway, when they start to lift up, I just get off the stretcher and start laughing out loud. I will tell them that I am okay and its all my ****** series of imagination and show them that I don’t have wounds and all but they will just vanish. I keep laughing and laughing because then I could finally feel or imagine the pain that I will go through. The pain that will fill me up and I don’t feel empty anymore. That is the exact kind of empty I feel. But that is not enough, I am still on my bike. If you have lost me, I want to repeat all that happened was just a part of my imagination. I imagine stuffs a lot and I think they are cool when I imagine stuffs about dying and just waking up as if I am just taking nap and waking up. Is there anything like that rebirth or stuffs? Anyway, I am still on the bike. I speed up thinking all these things and then I make my way through a very narrow alley between two moving something trucks or buses and there… That is the right kind of empty that just got filled. You know it or not, when you speed up and make a narrow escape from between the moving trucks just closely to save your life. Man, I can feel the air move through my veins and I can see my heart flying out of my chest. Man, was that crazy? I ask to myself. To hell with it. I am still alive and breathing and I am not feeling empty anymore. But as I keep thinking, I just get so mad. I don’t know at what or at whom. Everything is so pale and depressing. I try to cheer myself up looking at the clouds and green trees and trying to think about witty lines that’s funny to me and all and all and them , all it just makes me so mad, just more depressing.

That right, I then stop my bike on the side rail and start thinking about writing about all these stuffs. Because I have this group of friends who kind of poem and stuff and they are pretty good too. I also poem and stuff sometime but nothing that I wrote ever became good. Because I can tell by reading them all that, the stuffs that come in paper are not everything I feel. Like if I have to use percentage to say how near they are to the amount I feel, it would be like ten percent or around. That is not much. Even the government value added tax is thirteen percent. I was trying to be funny but hell with that. I was just feeling empty and all and now I am on my bike stopped on the side of the huge highways where everything is moving. Its depressing to find out that everything is moving , everything around you and you are the only one stopping to look at them moving. If only there was someone who was there by your side to hold your hand and look at all these moving vehicles and the traffics and kids holding the hand of their mothers and fathers and uncles to cross the road safely and those dogs and oxen lying over the road.  To hell with it, if there was actually someone who would be by my side, I won’t be feeling empty and imagining crazy stuffs and stop my bike trying to write a poem out of it or something or anything just so I can be more cool showing my rad poem to the group of my circle who poems. Man, do I love that ? I can certainly make a good actor out of me if I play in a move but it just make me feel more sad and I don’t know why. I look around if I can find any teashop or anything. Just so, I could sit there and order a tea and stay sad and pale and then someone would come and ask me. Hey boy whats the matter with you? Then I would just ignore his question. People can be real nosy sometimes. I am just siiting here having tea and something man. Head off to you own way, I will tell that. Why would I tell me why I was sad anyway. I was thinking about a beautiful girl like an angel that we see in movies , beautiful like that when the word beautiful fails to describe the amount of beauty she has,  I was trying to imagine a situation when I am sipping over my tea sadly and then this angel comes over and ask me what is that making me look pale. She would say nice stuffs to me and man, do I fall in love again? Man… love is the silliest thing ever. You can have enough of it. I was just feeling empty because some girl told me that she doesn’t have anything for me. Even I didn’t have anything for her . But you know there are times when you actually fall in love like madly in love. It’s the same person everywhere, all around you. You can’t just stop thinking about her. But the one who said she has nothing for  me, she meant no feelings or loves that she can do to me. We met few times, two or three and she was nice and all. I was funny and all. But even I haven’t felt anything towards her. Now she is really beautiful with this hair and this long slender face that she has. And then you know it when you want to fall in love. I wanted to fall in love with her because she was exactly the type of the girl that people have to fall in love with. She was active and hardworking. She has a good smile and dimples too. Man, those dimples drive me crazy. I just feel like diving into those tiny little cheeks and then right into her heart. And on the top of that wavy curly hair, it can drive anyone mad. Well, it drove me mad and that is why I am trying to fall in love with her. But anyway she told me last night or sometime in past that she doesn’t feel like that. I want to tell her that even I don’t feel like that with her. But I don’t want to because that may just drive her away from me all more. But anyway I was just mad when she told me that. Not mad like psychologically but like emotionally. I was just trying to explain her that we should may be spend some time together and get to know each other and all because you know I was kind of trying to fall in love with her and wanted to know more about her and make a lover like impression on her and all but man, was she crazy or something? She just said she doesn’t want to. It just made me so mad that I started my bike , yeah after paying for tea and all. I speeded up again and I didn’t want to stop but I had to stop because of this stupid traffic signal but my legs were all dancing because I was anxious and all and I just wanted to cry for nothing. But I can’t cry because I don’t feel like and when you feel like crying you cant stop it anyway. Those stupid tears will just fall off. Then The traffic signal goes green and I speed up and want to race with someone and feel good by beating them. But then there are other bikes that goes ahead me and that makes me feel more sad and then I just so over the yellow side line and start driving like slug. Man, I am extreme. I can feel it. I try to think about writing all this when I go home but I know I wont because I have done this many time and I have never written anything. Its just like that.

Its just like that. You have all these stupid to intelligent ideas an stuffs when you are walking or on the bike but I never do anything. When I reach home, I change my dress start it all again. I start to become normal like nothing is wrong with me. It just drives me crazy.. everything is so wrong with me. I have to be somewhere is some other good job that I will enjoy and that also pays me pretty good so that I can enjoy and all. I also have to fall in love with this girl. I have to complete one of my research paper so that I can earn good reputation among these technical circle of mine. I have to pen down some good stuffs so that I can perform it loudly in front of everyone and then everyone would cheer for me and all. I will just act modest and bow down. I also have to meet some of these my school friends and all and have some crazy times with them mocking the professional life and all. I have to be with my family, go to temples and stuffs and pray and ask the god to help me focus in my pursuit, which I am not sure what that is so I also pray and ask the god to show me the  right path. Its easy to pray and all and just stay happy thinking god will do everything but hell with god. I also have to prepare for this test and I have to complete reading this book and man, I have so much to do. I can’t just waste my time just like this.  

**There are always enough stupid things to drain the best outof you and leave you in terrible vacancy.

Walking on glass, breathing it in
cutting sighs bled of same shade's blood
cloudy veins purg'd in progenator's denial
flying in shadow'd lit fear of fight
stick a neede in my eye sideways
obsession's self fulfilling prophecy
heart races to halt the finish line
fragment'd monkey guts strewn about
grinding litany of guts and tombstones
twisted paradox of fixation's sweet tooth
dragg'd in the violent overtow of another
death rings a toll in it's exhaled kick
chlorine dreams on point to gut'd hell

a thousand eyes follow you from newly waxed floors
and trail after me with form-filled labels, white on gold
take as needed; do not operate machinery; relax.
the shadows follow our steps, ***** and blood next to God’s poster love.
pin it to the bathroom wall: peccavi, peccavi

two years, fifteen minutes, miles of scars.
we sleep through the days, and whisper
of nights before the hurricane

("what happened to those two?")
                                                     ("Deus misereatur, the storm took them.")

I daydream of sinking my teeth into the flesh of redemption,
to rip muscle from immaculate bone.
can we not move on?
copper denial drips from our jaws.

and Deo gratias, they say, you survived.
limbless and naked on tiled floors.
Deo gratias et Deus mortuus est.
survival is in our veins.

I watch you waiting in LCD purgatory
as you see my fingers bleed into the vinyl shielded couches of the 12am ER

perception through observation — I let you reveal who I am.
what am I feeling? how do I act?
breathing through each other with liquor in our lungs.
I know how the bile tastes in your throat,
and you know the burn of the whiskey on my tongue

why do we still reach for walls
where cicada-shell notices cling with scotch tape?
take a number and restore the riches;
leave the room and tear them down.

who but God can build over the ruins of fallen cities, fallen worlds?
and ora pro nobis, He is yet unwelcome here.


we are holy, in our own names we pray, and Hallelujah, we are saved

And the cracks in my armor
Bloom like sunflowers.
They’re letting spring in and I think
I’ll be able to breathe again soon.
I don’t know how long winter really was
And at this point
I’m not concerned

Because the air is sweet.
Everything tastes like honey and milk
And I swear
My veins are petals of
Forget-Me-Nots picked in a game of
He loves me not.

Persephone walks with me.
The grays are blues again.
The skeleton trees scratching the sky
Bare fruit once more.
Heavy pomegranates and raspberry melodies
Swirl a vibrant red
Behind my eyes.

April kissed cherry blossoms
Into my bloodstream.
My belly is full of watermelon seeds.
For once
I am welcoming spring
With open wishbone arms,
I don’t even mind the bees.

You're inside me,
like a disease.
You tangle through my veins,
unwilling to put my mind to ease.
I beg of you to loosen the reins,
just let go of me and take the pain please.
You have taken place as my cane,
but you've pushed me to leave.
I beg of you to loosen the reins,
But you are my fatal disease.

Spriralling down profanity
Standing on the cliff of blasphemy
She looked for angels inside of demons
Where God's decree was nowhere to be found
She had faith in what she saw
Preachers and believers
Insolence and deciept
Their words of judgement reaching out to cage her in
Threatening punishment
Imploring her to forgiveness
God, there is sacrilege
This world is rampant with hypocrites
Her heart is full of your love
Yet desires the forbidden
The unsanctioned
It harms not a soul, not even her own
But holds her happiness down the one path
That strays just a little from the rules
God, who loves the impious preachers and believers
The patient and forgiving
Can these two paths not become one?
Where the blood in her veins runs by His decree
Every breath she takes is with His grace

I’m the type to holster mental index cards of things to say on a first date
But no matter how much I study, my words never withstand the test of time.
Eventually, sweet nothings cause ear canal cavities from sultry words too often indulged.

Love made me want to rip my pulsing heart out of my chest and place him on a table just for interrogation.
I would ask, why he would trust so easy when he should know better than anyone that no love, melody, or beat goes on forever.

But what an exceptional construction worker you’ve become.  
Demolishing hearts as if the blueprint to my soul has become obsolete.
Words spewed from your mouth with the power of a wrecking ball that collided with my 5’7 frame.
So unpredictable that I doubled over from the pain.
I crumbled as if I was an ancient building way pass my prime.
And I’m still searching through the rubble to find any salvageable pieces.
Maybe I can recover a missing part of my smile and plaster it back into place, though it will never fit quite the same.
You ****** slowly on my bone marrow and your lack of concern made me insane.

Before I slept, I sprinkled immaculate images of you on my eyelids as if I was the Sandman.
Thoughts of you embraced my dreams, and it was the only way I could find serenity in my slumber.

I will never again activate the synapses in my brain that saw you as a god that descended to earth.
You ripped my psyche to shreds like a cannibalistic cupid who lost sight of the agenda.
To create love, not to pierce it with vindictive arrows.  

Now all you are to me is this poem.
A poem.
Letters, words, and stanzas.
You don’t even deserve the time it took me to write this.
You do not deserve the effort of my joints smacking the keys when I find the next thought of how you hurt me.

Like sacred paintings in newly discovered caves, I tattooed the inner walls of my cerebral cortex with memories of you.
It would be there forever. Waiting to be discovered by the next person that walks into my life with a torch filled with hope.
Illuminating my dark, damp and lonely cave.

When the next woman crosses my path and wonders why I get a verbal tic from the word love, I will unlock those same chambers of my mind and show her the walls that you’ve left your worthless signature on.

I hope she will be able to understand that I can let her onto the front porch, but it will be some time before she gets to see my home.
Because, it’s really messy in there.
***** dishes in the sink, books thrown on the ground, an unkempt bed, and my confidence and self-worth hung up to dry on the clothesline.

You cannot just rent a space in someone’s home and then leave without a month’s notice.

You were my addiction,
I injected your ******* essence and I was high on life when you were near.
So close that you coursed through my veins and made me feel alive.
Every now and again I get that familiar itching of an addict.
I am itching, just to text you.
Just a simple hello.
I get urges to find you.
To cop another one of your addictive glances straight into my two liquid pools of inexperience.
I never thought addictions were this hard to kick.

Evoke emotion, make me cry

Anything to make me respond

For I'm comatose

With a yearning to feel, to move



Evoke inspiration, make me feel

Anything to have me write

To writhe with inspired words

Pouring from my mind, unto paper



Evoke love, make me stupid

Anything to make me fall

Passion flowing through these veins

A snake of deceit and contentment



Evoke in me anything

Response, feeling, falling, coldness

Make me human

Before this animal takes over

queen of hearts
the sun sets on her tongue
the night sinks into her eyes

king of spades
his mouth brings a myriad of painful pleasures
his hands can hold the world

grasp her gauzy waist
whisper swirls of diamonds that will encircle the heart and render it frozen and glowing

slide your hand under his skin
weave your milky way through his veins and render them fiery and frightening

queen of diamonds
she speaks only in retributive tongues
she loves desperately
the clouds behind her lips are gathering in a storm

king of clubs
he speaks only in the language of power
he loves fiercely
his garden is thirsting for rain


swim in rapturous glaze of mind
experience this plethora of feeling
let your fingers get pruny and divine the message inside the lines


sink your teeth into a stalactite heart, you’ll find your mind explodes with colours- a death worth the last image that consumes you before you’re gone.
the rings of saturn are chandelier crowns and strawberry throats; so close but never touching.
let the lightjuice drip down your spine as you contemplate the reasons you’re still on earth