Steal away at twilight's calling
make your bed and tell your lies
meet me on the lonely hillside
bathed in guilt and alibi's.

Take me to the singing river
hold me under, wash me clean,
rid my spirit of this longing
breathe to life my only need.

Lay me down on emerald pasture, moonlight pale with eyes aglow
make my skin your only comfort,
savour pleasures yet unknown.

Touch me where he shall not enter
take your hands and soothe my soul,
press your holy weight upon me
taint my flesh and make me whole.

Take me home in sacred silence,
once again we mourn our deed
hearts now closed, our minds preparing
tales of time, meant to deceive.

Quiet guilt it will not linger
as we crave to taste once more
taken hearts and love forbidden
wrapped in lies forevermore.

Cry cause it's not okay.
Cry cause it never will be.
Cry cause you're a loser.
Cry, because all fakers are.
Cry because you laugh too much
Cry cause you're hiding
Cry cause you're exploding
Cry because it's all burning
in.side.you
Cry because water might just help
with the flames
Cry, cause you need to
Cry cause nobody wants you
Cry cause it's all over
Cry cause you can't do anything else
but write.
and cry,
and die.*
Die, and cry.

I am so jealous
jealous* of everybody
everybody who's close to you
you who are far away
away from where I am living
living without loving,
loving without hoping,
hoping without knowing
knowing how this will end
end, if there is one.

I learnt to hate.
I never knew how it was
to hate someone so strongly
before
but now that I do
I think I know…
It’s like… sipping a bitter,
bitter coffee
so slowly
that the taste wraps around your tongue
and burns it.
It’s like… bringing a matchstick
closer to your chest
and letting it create a hole
a red, blazing hole.
It’s like… being the rose yourself
that the lover crushes in his hands
seeing the fragrance melt—
the petals wither
in your own existence.
It’s like… praying and not receiving
Dying… and not dying.
It’s like panting breathlessly for air—
and blocking all pumps out yourself
But is that hate?
Or did I just define
how it was
*To miss you?

Why is it so hard
for us to accept ourselves as we are,
and yet so easy to pick out our
imperfections and scars
and allow them to taint and tar,
combine and define
the picture we paint
The person we are,
and the person we believe we should be.
The staged presentation
we allow others to see.