I sit here
waiting
sipping my
poison that
makes me brave
that makes
the truth escape
through barriers
I’ve built up
I transform into
a creature of
lustful longing
and I begin my
search for my
new victim
I seek and
walk my catwalk
zigzag along
the walls of
the pounding
beat
I see
I lock my
eyes on
I take a
shot of
clear liquid
and stumble
up to you
oh yes
YOU’RE MY NEXT
“If you dont have any shadows you’re not in the light.”
– Lady Gaga
I wish I could be strong;
I wish that I was wrong.
The pain cuts me deep,
deep like the ocean,
an ocean of emotion.
A world of pain and hate
only slices –
I try to win,
struggle along
bearing my knives.
Watch as the skin parts,
parts like a red sea:
flows
drips
down
down
down
staining my existence
and cleaving skin
into a natural tattoo of pain:
Testament to Struggle.
Some memories never fade;
Some emotions constantly raid…
Slits sneak stealthily, steadily
smearing smirks:
soundless, subtle.
I carve myself
to tame myself;
I tame myself
to control myself.
S C A R:
Slide
Cut
Anger
Relief
Scar-face, scar-arm, scar-heart, scar-life…
Stained pain.
Pray to a being who listens;
pray for help:
beg for Salvation.
Only my friends
Save me from myself.
Take a bow:
smile, smirk, snub.
Approve, applaud.
Understanding that to love
was to give of myself:
uncensored; pure;
and naked.
Knowing I would willingly let
you into chambers which
were always empty;
empty for a reason…
Haunted by nothingness
but constantly waiting for something-ness.
Knowledge is power –
and power can destroy!
I destroyed myself
in letting you walk
the corridors of my emotions!
I let you in
and you walked
and walked…
I forced you to walk!:
I pushed you!
Oblivious shades you worse:
my fault; not yours.
I knew the toxicity
of your love
yet I wanted to feel it!
I wanted to hurt!
I wanted to burn!
I wanted to cry!
I wanted to die.
Now I sit;
I cry:
crimson regret.
a continuation of the struggles
which we must all bare
through all the pain
and the acid that
burns at our emotions
and erodes our youthful innocence
a continuation of something more
a beating heart beats like
a beating sun that breathes its bold
breath of heat
a continuation of the pain
that we all feel not because it
destroys but because it creates more
than what we realize
for only out of the struggles
emerges the beautiful
as a pair is always defined
by the other
giving rise to definition
a continuation of the continuation
and a comma, to your pain
to your pain, a comma because worthy, you are
of the continuation to reach
the evading enlightenment of life
but this comma continues,
continues, comma, comma, comma-strife
until it
ends
fullstop
Both hands slip down and pick the purple rose from the green bush;
Sun shining, reflecting the light back at the world it warms.
Soft hands retract, sparkling eyes glint like stars;
Fingers twirl it, arms bring beauty closer.
Soft lips form a curve of satisfaction;
Eyelids slide gently over sight.
Nose drinks sweet air of life;
Skin dances and glints.
Heart beats lovingly;
Life slows.
Bliss.
its hard work
having to
care
Infected by corrupted corrosion
of peer-piercing pretense
and diseased desires to impress:
A romanticised, illustrious image.
Once bold and definite,
definite like a David.
Smashed.
The transformation of age –
Poisoned passion:
La vérité.
Filled with life and desire,
sucking on every sweet cane of sugar.
Making sure to live;
Not to exist.
Choosing to feel the feeling:
Not reading about it.
Touching Life’s beautiful offerings;
breathing in her temptations.
Yet I sit and watch…
A safe, isolated existence
and wish
I was brave too…
A broken heart and pain is all I bear,
Wrecked, torn, beaten and shattered by life’s fist;
My dulled soul seeps happiness from its tear:
Sharp, sickly shards which my existence mist.
I fell in love with those who liked real me,
They all changed the way I felt about life;
With them, oh, it seemed that I could just be.
They failed: results of the paternal strife!
My greatest strength, my greatest weakness too:
My caring and loving hurts me each day,
Unto life’s wooden cross I said, “I do.”
My debts on earth one day I will them pay.
But for life has not been that much so kind,
She has a reason: my life I must find.
Dismember the thoughts
of the corrupt mind!
Unleash the hounds of liberalism!
Let the truth be told along with
the faithful
lie…
Die living just as free as thought:
swimming against the stream of rules
and the labelling of the Machines.
Break the illusion,
shatter all senses;
Knock on the door,
break down all fences.
Mr Individualist 