Vermicide

A blade slides down the trickle of skin left clung to his bicep. Lost in the crimson flow, not a sound is made that is audible over the adrenalized breathing, and the ensuing clatter of the knife on the floor.

He sits, bent over in ritual contrition. She stares at the corner for just a moment longer, then promptly swings open the door, and finds her way back home.

Thought You Had It In You, But No...

For a moment, I lay there defeated. In that moment, you decided to keep your back turned. I can tell not whether it was complacency, or indifference. Nonetheless, it was clear you didn't see my roiling. Else, you would have claimed the spoils and moved on to your next battle. The truth, our truth, would have been lost, only to be replaced by some ugly incarnation of a "truth" too hideous to witness.

In that moment lays captured my greatest defiance. Defying God, time, "truth", you...I cast all away. In my defeat, I found the resolve to seize what I wanted, what I called mine, before it was mine to call mine.

There is so much talk of growing up. We grew up the hard way. We were given everything while we were growing up. And so, we've grown up ill-prepared. Without conviction to take what we want to. What we have to. And no one's giving us anything, not for anything. We are having to wrestle it out of the hands of the same mouths we would swear to feed, the backs we would claim to clothe, and cover in frigid winds. We pilfer from the maker's hand what hath been made, whether it be made for naught or another.

In my defeat, I grew. In my defeat, I found I had to take what I wanted. And so take I shall, be it for naught, or for another.

Half-Full/Half-Empty

My impatience will get the better of me. I grow more and more irritable with myself for all this free time I have. It is a stab in the back of my mind when I always remember of how people spoke of my "potential", and whether it truly exists or not, that reverberation will forever reside inside this head of mine.

It's Go or Bust time now. Either I push myself outwards in every single direction I possibly can. I may possibly grow from it. Or I will possibly realize one big failure in the eternity of an instant. Either way, at least there will finally be some sort of resolution.

No rest for the wicked. So hath it been ordained.

There Aren't Any Secrets.

I want to be a vehicle for change. And by god, I'm going to do it. The things I want for us, they are not mere trifles. You will shower in lavender, make roses wilt with envy, command grace amongst unworthy lepers. Your throne will be wrought from my bones. Life will thrill you, and you will forget what it is like to try and breathe. There will be no time for such trivialities. My touch will become a part of what you are, as much as you will make me what I am. My thoughts will be your words, and our synergy will defy any schism. Time will melt into a warm embrace, smothered in dark chocolate, and traced by creme de menthe. We will not give chase; the artefacts will fall far behind in futile efforts to capture and contain us. And your happiness will be infinite. We won't be the same. We will be One.

Give yourself to me. Never leave me be.

Muswell

I must be patient and stay true...

Be Calm In Your Heart.

It's golden advice. If followed properly, it would make the world a better place. It would let you flourish, it would bring beauty to your ears, music to your feet, movement to your eyes. The quiet voices of laughter, mirth, and contentment will ripple through waves of being.

Lose it, and stones will raze the stray. Castles will crumble. Dreams will die.

You will be left with the smoldering remains of what could have been, but never was.

Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.Bitch.

*does the two hands talking over each other routine*

You're quiet and cryptic. You're veiled in deceit and sleight.

Reveal your performance. No more secrets. No more games.

Hesitation.

Hold back till it's omniscient. Once it pervades everything, you reveal it. Once you feel it everywhere, everything, everytime, you tell of it.

That's why I hesitate.

Fragile

It's a silent agony that swells within the immense sphere of paranoia where we find ourselves drowning. Our bodies intact, our pain illusory. But our souls, they are drawn and quartered.

Marathon

No matter how many times I hear this, A) it will never get old, and B) I will never stop marveling at the beauty of the imagery, and the sheer poetry.

Like A Kiss, soft, and wild,
with the delicate steps of petals
fallen into a stream
This swirling ballerina turns
in faint and sighing grandeur
across the floor to me

A monarch plays the violin to a summer's afternoon
Whilst quietly, the earthworm adores the soil
in winter's sparkling gloom.
It breaks away, growing, as the flowers do.

A Thunderhead embraces his enraptured lover,
And kisses with a gale that also makes the cattails shudder.
His tears cannot, as he proclaims his love,
be held with lightning back.
They fondly dance into an open window
And fondly dance with mine.

Our eyelashes weaken with a weight that is sweet and fine
And this feels like frogs and spiders in the sweet outside.
Tell me why world, unfathomable and good...
The beauty of everything is infinite and cruel.
An aeroplane, a puppet, an orange, a spoon.
a window, and outside... stars and the moon...

Cadaver.

The smell of burning flesh is...intriguing. Enticing. Arousing.

The way the flames lick her hot body. A lick at the ankles and she feels the heat on her neck. He watches, wide-eyed and paralyzed, watches the tongue move up her calves, painfully slow as it roams her supple thighs, the heat of the fire matching the heat in her crotch. The room is ablaze, but this ritualistic fascination keeps them cold in their motions. Her skin is crawling, her skin is peeling, his senses are wired, his urge rising with the beat of the hiss in every next stroke along her glazed physique.

Bodies join, and the heat rises a thousand degrees. The union breaks, and all energy is spent. Frigid breaths put the fire out, and the beat is never the same again.

If you read this...

Talk to me. Or I'll just assume everything I've assumed is correct. And we know how that leads to bad things, non?

Waltz.

You do not save failed potential for the Last Dance, especially when it doesn't even know the steps.

Beautiful to Watch.

In my mind, you twist and turn with the grace of a katana slicing through plain air. Your shape flawless, your motion determined, your arcing trace light, the ring of your swing melodious, the driving force effortless, the impact hard, the damage done and irreversible.

Your blows hit me like a torrent. I shiver at the hilt, I dent and I groan under the weight. Your song tires me, your shape taunts me, your grace defeats me, your desire staggers me, every movement of mine is laborious, and there is no salvation.

Your tirade weighs heavy upon me. I want silence. I want peace. Give me peace.

Cut me down.

Count me out.

E

the hat's gone. I'd completely forgotten about it, till today. I wish the word would bleed into this world from the very core. All so I may grow numb to this.

I don't know what I'm keeping, and what I'm throwing away. But arbitrary decisions are being made as we speak. Regret it or not later, I'm doing one or the other.

This vacuum grows in strength, unrelenting, unabated. You thrust the dagger deep inside you, and once your claret congeals, you inflict your virus upon others. If stab me you must, do it to my face; not my back. Do it, so I see whether your tears and your regret is marked with your bloody taint. Or whether you weep for angels and their admirers while you smile for your demons and their desires.

Free your love.

I need you because I have no one.
No, wait, wait.
I need no one, because I have you.

Pianissimo

Immerse your soul in love.

The Illness

The quiet voice brings solace to solitude. Somethings are always lost in translation. But the silence bears the weight through to the end. Words come into meaning.

Let's disappear. Make our plans smaller. Just you and me. Your siren soliloquies and my violent lovesongs. We never thought we'd be here after all.