Hold the reins.

Nothing but a game of timing, a bench and minutemen -
tag-teaming our way through the gauntlet of possibility,
we ride separately.

Completed.

Black widows and locker rooms in restaurants;
I ran to escape only to fall into a bar in lira.
Stairs cascaded up and down, mocking gravity,
as I stumbled through lego-like landscapes, livid.
I remained terrified through pangs of memories of
men from the past, arachnid encounters and abandonment.
Somebody forcefully wanted my money and the sun shone more than here;
my father walked the same floors and I had my own coatrack.

My half-life awaits.

Static.

I'm aware of my lack of perfection;
within my depths, waves rush
of you or towards you, hard to say from this
external
point of view
Although, I could continue my attempts to see
for a lifetime.

Sinking under,
twist and coil,
spin in the smoky wind.

Mind-hurricane.

You in my rearview mirror,
broken bones and severed tongues.
Driving off was like an ocean song,
malevolent waves beating on past shores.

When you taste the music,
feel it play throughout your body,
you may have found home.

Riding into the navy-green wormhole
warms my unprotected heart.

Arythmic drums will pound upon souls;
leave no trace, leave no testimony.
Escape before it falls.

Russian bourgeoisie.

My insides squirm; I'm nervous
My infinite muse and downfall,
once more,
asks me to dance
I spin and flit, unaware
I dive deep without a care
and as my sarcophagus cracks,
I ache to be back
in it, I can't win,
it calls for a requiem of sense

Jaws snap
shut
your eyes,
you shouldn't see this

Come on, bishop,
make it hurt.

"I used to want you dead, now I just want you gone"

Light-headed, fuzzy, hazy;
turning on any distraction.
Emotionless I try to remain
and you're not helping -
oxygen seems too heavy.

Dim the sunshine and bring on cold nights,
put on your gloves, prepare for the fights.

Program.

After eons of feeling feelings of not feeling,
along come feelings of you.
Reluctantly, I take them in –
unable to appreciate nor despise them, I cope;
I cope with the horrifying possibility of there not being us

I scream on the inside for nothing,
sometimes for most things and regarding you,
for everything.

Champagne trays.

I wake to reality;
pulsating pains equal exhaustion,
paint me an angel and fly off.

The glass of your disappointments and betrayals has filled up, finally -
millions of gentle nudges and one drunken push, I'm free.

Veiled disinterest masked as emotion;
the curtain has fallen, withered and overdue roses thrown,
and as the applause fades,
so do we.

Meet me at the intersection.

All he had to tell me was "goodbye, forever, baby"
All he had to say was "it's over"

All he had to say amounted to nothing in the end;
my mind overflows with confusion,
my brainwaves fill with violins and guitarsounds

I remember sunny, chilly mornings in a bad neighborhood,
waking up with him

My sleep would never rest, kissed on the forehead too early,
comforted back into a safe hibernation
I'm sorry I didn't ignore you, I'm sorry for me

All I want to say amounts to everything you never knew,
all the things you never knew about a girl who loves you.

Shiver and release.

As my fingers slide across the covers, I feel like there’s something I need;
Nothing concrete, just signs of your beautiful existence
Your laugh takes me places and I feel flying, soaring in my insides
(surprise me, shock me with electricity)

While my summer skin glows with heat,
I feel the necessary core of this situation
and I’m terrified to pieces, but I won’t stop, I won’t go

I require risk, I require chance
My hands tremble and I’ve lost my appetite,
I’m home.

Implied.

A floating bout of forgetfulness
(amnesia)
and I rack my brain for salvation.

I have a warm cloth and a sheath to stay sane in,
why did you pull me out?

I’m left bloodless, the pressure tortured me
and the cold coming from inside is insane;
help required, applications accepted

Human hearts resemble crack pipes –
they get a lot of shit put through them
and they help kill people.

Ethereal sensical delusions try to save me,
for I fear you cannot.

Facepaints on forearms.

The sidelines of the match crowd with
hostilities,
misguided hostilities -
Cut-up pieces of bits of memories,
conjured-up fragments of sorry instances.

My back is the only canvas on which you can comfortably write,
knowing it'll stay hidden;
subconscious loss of control flows out sometimes.
Cursed dams split and mental gates let loose
(a flood of unaware desires) -

Stay oblivious, it becomes you.

Atrophy of degeneration,
a beautiful paradox -
And the world is now bathed in an orange glow.

Wallflower origami.

Run, run, fucker, run –
Nobody wants to go unwarned or unarmed

Inside the fire of your deepest secrets,
she’ll find you, burn you alive

As thoughts burn, the ashes scatter
Feel them sinking into dirt

Souls breathe memories out as carbon monoxide,
and as the fires eradicate,

you’ve found your place.

Empty gods.

A vicarious sadness takes over
and all the while a panic and a surge of
adrenaline
conquers bodies.

Serotonin flows thin,
dopamine a mere faraway memory;
make the most of this now.

Empty bottles and cigarette butts have now
defined existences
as worlds crash, burn, recollect and recall.

As caged animals scream silently for release
and fires, fatal flames, burn
somewhere deep inside,
hidden;
they sense they’re not alone.

Much like some of us,
much like me,
they’re begging to be released.

Still.

Stuck, stuck, floating

Glued to where I lay, forced to adapt
Always vicariously feeling, constantly
Intervention calling, please help

Sing to me, teach me

My arms retreat to where they were
and not much changes
Angels drift by, nonchalant and ignorant

My only lover called sadness reaches for me

As all arms retreat simultaneously,
my head wills itself to implode –
I hear a clicking and I’m gone

Bruises and sutures, I’m here

The furnace of life.

The snow falls silently upon the icy pavement
sink into me

let the flames do the burning

light a cigarette,
forget forget

forget me, my voice, my disposition
these murderer’s hands retreat,
these murderer’s arms retreat

let the ashes do the dimming

and never let my fire go out

Call me captain, yessir.

Fly into my web, call me a liar;
Try to make me the only one, but flit about elsewhere (and away) nevertheless -
Freedom is the only way for us to beand yet, success is impossible

Loveliness poisons my life, my soul,
and adoration is its metastasis
Homicidal thoughts, cancerous minds –

Perversions emerge, atop rooftops


I can’t save you –

can’t be your superhero now

or

ever

Adoration's ghost.

Look how silently the rain falls,
Try to remember through dusty glasses;
I’d love for you to only see the good in me.

This figurine tires easily,
Fogged lenses impair your view;
I’d love for you to only see the sanity in me.

(The rust creaks and I settle,
longing for more than the ghost)

As the dusk embraces the dirt,
I wake to realize myself being dragged into you;
I’d love for you to never see the deceit in me.

Bad company.

Fear of loss is a fickle thing;
it passes, returns, crests and passes.
For me, it is timely and at times invisible,
other times far too visible –
horribly so.

People lose, gain, love and are pained;
a cycle without beginning or end.

Attempted assassination of the heart, mind, body, soul
makes one’s head foggy, full of smoke.
Vicious talons, vicious talons,
do tell me where you’re headed.

As music fills my ears, the world dims,
my words become a mess,
my voice, my honest voice, is all I have.

Attempting to make my thoughts reality,
perception-worthy marks on my psyche,
I find I often fail.
None of it makes much difference most of the time.

A front line soldier.

An ongoing battle;
it’s merely my part.
As I step to the front lines,
I’m petrified.

I will never be waterproof
and I will fall often –
a knockout blow always takes me down.

Out of tears, out of their meaning;
Flailing as I attempt to gather the pieces
after destructive realizations.

Call me wonderful,
(I’ve heard it before),
but never bother to show its meaning.

A helpless victim to my own vices,
and I can’t grasp concepts anymore.
One more cigarette, one more day.

Liquid temptation, take me by the hand,
lead me to Eden, help me understand.
Drift as smoke into the air, coil and spin.

The recoil strike’s never easy,
the shotgun of my mind’s lethal –
I’ve got the smile of a killer.

I always know where they are,
I always see them,
I always end up in their arms.

Comforted by discomfort;
(help me here), listen,
my shields are up.

There’s a fire inside of me,
dangerous and malevolent,
but it’ll never lay a flame on you.

Melancholia is my lover,
her eyes the bluest blue,
and I’ll take my mask from the table;

Welcome back, baby.

Én route.

As day falls into the arms of the night
and the night is woken by the embrace of the dawn,
flowing into day again,

I’m with you.

My mask fell when yours did;
it cascaded down in a flow of facadebits
(things that were no longer selfishly necessary)

The light is brighter,
the night less melancholy,
my mind less chaotic,
and my heart –
it’s for you to hold.

I see the rising sun in your glowing eyes;
reach for me in the dark and I’ll feel it too.

My entire being pulses in blue,
from my eyes to my veins as you drift through them.

And the only thing brighter than the morning sun is how I feel waking up with you.