Unintended

She came out for blood
And she was having none of it
No rest for the wicked
No mercy for the weak
I am torn apart by words alone
Nothing new

'In your World, no one is trying alone'
no one is dying alone.'
Alas, cursed I was
Lounging for change
Ah! Hahahahaha.
Disclosed miseries of the soul
Forgive me my forebears
What I seek here, now, today
Is closure. In order to collapse this very tunnel
That has bind me. Snared by delight'
trapped in a vortex of a delusion
That may very well be so
But this light, my want for it
I render it null
One cannot sleep in while it is bright
I require the comfort, once again, of the dark

I remember once. The magical communion
What a grand affair, what magnificent invasion
The release that only skin shivering musical touch
could ever provide
None other shuts the pain, kept at bay ever so gently
'And dreaming I am alive..and I am not breaking down,
I am BREAKING OUT.'

In my lonesome I imagine the laughing hyena
Driving me insane, compassion drains through the floor
Head banging the walls, the floor, the roof all up to the moon
The ones who dodge relationships are still children
Alike those that still pretend to outrun their shadows
Or sleep over the pretense of achieving said feat
Those who shake furious over a prank
Which they are but sure enough soon to repeat

One should ever so often, I find.
Start over.
By all means keep the experience of yesterday
Keep the torment and anguish, how else,
how else is one to escape if he does not feel in need?
I remember once, gazing at the time
That shattering dimension that breaks any and all
Attempt of redemption
There is no template for salvation
No easy mend to salvage the product of my eagerness
Oh lalala, make no mistake.
I do honestly swear to lose control.

I.

A balloon is meant
to bring joy
Generate superficial laughter
To these hopeless children
Without shoes, whose feet have blisters
No sufficient amount of glue
or red tape to omit the truth
In my recovery, an haircut at the nearest saloon
impending doom; a blast, a disaster
short lived misdirection. Chemical reaction
This swollen face of yours
Sunken sleepless eyes
This scars that would (not) heal
Regardless of my caresses, kisses
Licked I be, dammed for trying
to correct seeing you would never be
able to forget, the horrors, of birth
In my recovery
each death a statistic, in order to be, free
from general judgement; an title, an opinion
futile as only fancy should had ever been

A looking glass, a peeping tom, May.
May, a wholesome month
felt longer too, been close to an year
Since I last drew
Pictures of my soul, blank
tasteless wimps crawl and die
at that beach of my deceive
My pity is cheap
See, already broken
Invest in quality my friend.
The good died young,
guess who remained.