I soon confused a soothing voice for an open door
an extension of a white flag, redemption
cease fire breath, sit still my chest, mercy.

this coffee a magical brew, elixir of life, nectar of wasteful bliss
it remains the lucky one, the sole comfortable collector of lovers that went wrong

as the hand agitates and the tongue trembles, mostly gone
as the fog instills itself and the images fade into a blur
I know for a fact I caused it, the reckless consequence of choice
the carnage of action that one soon forgets
as the sun burns and the ledge steals my reason
the wristwatch counts cycles atop my veins
the traverse of waking up 'till I run dry
off solutions, all void out of a million and one

dear mom and dad

a work of artful hope has many faces whispers of sugarcoated warmth
a mastermind craves some downtime in the beaches belly faced down
sporting a mighty tan killing time at will in repose despite the crimes
what a joke to shallow in despair, desperate us now to divine what unfolds

prison this skin that shields me from harm and cages the ghosts that I can't see past
torment this eyes, that!: lacking ail for dust; reach and light. red stained and it pains to see

the coffee has turned cold as the shoulders dip
lost momentum, written off and counted out
down for the count, no more sticking around
it is like when things get tough I stick the dagger deeper
carving a well of self-loathing and doubt to drown
falling short of ever turning towards the best
the very best mold, oh Maker my chest is apprehensive
the hours multiply, the mind is fuzzy and shrouded by fear
that I might not stand a point, the voice of reason a mere draft
escaping an open window, losing face

to witness the dove of hope smothered a penance to feed upon
hung like a vulture stalking the feast, a torch lit for disaster
his mind a mess, his life a bad joke and his throat awoke a scream
the only commendable pause is how limb his arms went resisting the violent urges
of a nasty dull breakup craning at his heart, dead fish eyes ring at the shake-up
shedding a tear when the promised phone call came and no meaningful words exchanged
no longer important, now an ex another drop of a name in less flattering ways

lover boy goes on a ride, just him his car and his darker thoughts
boxing her belongings, burnt the love letters and chain smokes to kill the vibe
that trembles at his bones, this insecurity is fucked up and taking over the void she left behind

me? I am an spectator to this vibration in space, a drag of a cigarette is an open coffin case
as I fear the infectious white lies cannibalize his spirit, I do believe in the strength of a new dawn
it is with pity that timidly I must point out the inevitability of contradiction, a ghost that haunts
the house you built mate, and the silence she provokes is truly deafening

the jolt that awoke the dread that we cannot turn back is a bullet that chipped my denial
a phase I suppose to make me believe in whatever powers need be to lose less

this very spanking desk has been my sole confident and pillow at the dearest of time
to top off the circumstances a carnivorous demon that consumes, consumes, consumes
the magical good days shrink, sinking down and they gnaws at my ankles pulling half determined
they too despise the mess that I chanced upon the mirror

The captain of a ghost ship

Grim dawn beacons a fighting spirit
Will it into shape oh misery
I do not recall begging for sympathy
Chasing highs, emptying pockets in a whim
a crippled soul forfeits value so I stare at the receipt

recognize the night preys upon, another ghost takes notice
abnormal, an afterthought of dirty sheets, awake midday
the sickness rings true, the symptoms colossal the ivory of her eye
tooth for tooth it takes a shine that feeds a crave that is to die for
this walls cannot quarantine the misprision of resistance to magic
as long as one can smell the blood they will know it has been done
they remember the halls, the greatest heights forsaken
the seas are silent and that my friend is a foreshadow of death.

the grimoire taints the water and beacons us further into drowning
its concrete pull magnanimous, irresistible siren of vile triumph
matched ambitions and desires must be suspended by-a-bye
the exchange is torment, shift and careful, meticulous and pointless
the stuff of legends decays just as much as gold shines upon the apple of my eye
in other words, my empty stomach is perfectly numb, "here's a blade: dig deep"

my conscious accuses me of being a fool, my throat dried up long ago
the years crashed down darling, it has truly been a while to recoup this feelings
it dawns upon the lengthy breeze, carried a yawn through a storm, missed the point
my resentment was born from fear of letting go, caged my very soul on this chest
ripped away brutally and yet it repulses me so to see the crest depicting my vengeance

this rip cage is barren from vital signs
the flesh rotten and fed to the seagulls

Today I found the unpleasant suicide note I had concealed amid my shadows
It's steepened high hopes held no mercy as long as it is mine
'It is complicated' and suddenly the morning sun pulls me out of my slumber
and here we go hating indiscriminately again, I assumed everyone knew
to be replaced, step by step, limp by limp, from new to old

My glasses steam in earnest, cross my heart this déjà-vu walks vertically

leagues of vile scum, bane of the very earth for treacherous mateys
shit floats and that know-how zones me out
let it be known this words cannot amount to the poison
that festers my mental capacity.
_________________________________________________________________________________

Foul mouthed, perhaps bad natured
The reset button is jammed, sound the alarm
What if it was simple? Chop down trees before they respawn
hey kid don't bite that apple, it shines golden and pure
must be worth a nickle, far more than the Devil bargained for my soul
maybe it makes sense, stretch the very heavens
diluted blood feels watery and soggy, timid and puff
no vampire would be happy, let us feed despair and fall apart
haven't slept in days, my nails are gone and unhappy
my knuckles are a thready bloody mess, glued to my sides in protest
what if it was simple, drop the dead weight before it cuts you open
shallow the stress before it can be devoid of sanity, what's left to do?

my particles miss the bedtime stories, my voice contained
my cage now unsealed but my breath grows weak
I fear the silence the most, it knows me inside out far too well
and so I must ramble, raving mad truly enchanting particles
they sing for you, word by word unaccounted and therefore true
unplanned, projected to last forever, doctor please I do not want no pills
your needles are a threat to my story, they soothe my agony
I bark at the Moon for company, it has been a while
it answers back and it feels somewhat like it will be alright

what terrors console in unison at midnight, ever so present
let it be certain they may never abandon you, a warmth that children
can depend on it, relay sympathy for orphans and murderers alike
they drew a fleeting bus stop, northwest and fast asleep
have stenciled the capacity to cry in the guise of apathy
sleep, dull and slow, steady and overwhelmingly serene

Guardian Angel

I felt the simplicity of it all shatter my mingle hope wide open
eaten alive to the spectacle of my feeble family support
a weaker attempt at, insinuations that ignite a fire within
to try one best does not equate success and I do resent
I must confess discontent
ironic that it translate to the drag of an eraser on coarse paper sheets
more destructive than otherwise meant to be

darling I do not call for I do not care
to pay attention to what is not worth saving
to commute and bless thy being, as you are
It is suffocating to barely tolerate, it burns my throat
I am just the way they left me and nothing will bring back
my rosy fantasies that we clearly share

Have no faith dear one, I am not the one worth saving
but yesterday I did care a little more and else
my guardian angel too weeps and believes it is time
to leave behind a poisonous land where the dance floor
has been soiled by eyes fixated on the wall and missing the point;
not on the eyes, on the rhythm and the soundtrack
less on the lips or the waiving of the hands
and so much more on the repetitive jukebox
what a fucking waste of the quarter I found by the door

quite frankly speaking I fear I will collapse under a spell
of indisposition should our eyes meet once again
and thereon my very soul be bound for eternity once again
worse still, and this a fate not worth living at all, I crave It

and that would be F'I'N'E if it matched the pulse of reality
but look here, it is emotionally unstable to have a problem with being good as one is without needing to catch-up? I put it all behind and got no intention of shattering my nostalgia with what you are as you are if you are not gonna feed my neurotically batshit crazy delusions.

Rotten moods hit the mark

It all started with a plastic bag, ensnared under the fig tree.
The flush of branches had ripen a hole
tore right through the OHHH from the branded sign
It looks pale in recollection, worn off and musky
therefore inresistable, I must make that plain

drifting plagues from a slumber towards a seven old year version of what I rather be

My project at hand, nursing a bruised knee
token setback and lion reward from a rescue mission
down the fields up the road to bring back
a litter of kittens amid misjudged shortcut leaps
sideways of a hill facing the town church

Perhaps the blood fueled the commotion
in retrospective mood, that birth of scars
amiss tears to anchor the lesson,
or front teeth to savour with a vengeance
Regardless of control and tall tales,
that merry knee never quite twisted gates
like before, spun now crooked, now moany in every single season. 

wounded crushed pride forced my hand, surely
feign disinterested adrift carried momentum
binding my ascend up the trunk of that fig tree
planning the movements from the corner of my eyes
playground funfair, like a cruel mistress whose skirts one preys upon with gait delight, joy torn between obsessive compulsion and devoted method
alas, infected, misguided fondness down to the core.

The day I learnt how to fly, I was most certainly not pushed
shoved, thrown out the ledge. I vively deny or cannot recall slipping, tripping or otherwise being conned by misfortune
I must make that plain.
The rumble stumbled off my lips solely once, oopps,
as the call of the void stroke my very being into motion and I,
foolish and reckless stepped into uncharted planes of physics.
For what felt like a very long drawn breath indeed,
clutching the bag like a drawn flag,
I parachuted away mighty invincible, most certainly without a care
oh benevolent significant other part of me.

Pins and needles came visit first, ants to my sores
pitch dark and eerily quiet after, tender and warm always
what I couldn't smell, see or touch I felt.
Liquid hot, in waves, blazing and chilling sharp from end to end
both ways, the body seeking to make amends.

At that hour I felt scared, not off the prospect I not make it back mind,
do heed my predicament, rather, of what fiendish repercussions
the consequential chain of events underneath the basket of fate
my fears were safely extinct no doubt, in due time mind,
I never made it back, my bones remain to be found,
do not quite get it myself.

countless problems indeed, an ironic hypocrite,
significant other that hug my burial hole
wise words shells cutting short my ambition to grow old
'take responsibility...and die quietly' , ah 'alone'
and as my voice was taken to be honest,
the artillery follows wild and random, a spectrum to my open window
reflective of a gap, a prayer your grace for the sever link
that agonizes my sleep, darkening my passing journey through sorrow and sadness
as I did say, countless problems indeed.

Perspective volatile, often uninvited and periodically feisty
an audience, a dispute, the inner monologue eager,
perhaps to entertain, (a conspiracy without meaning) feeding a state of insomnia
or to be honest, far from spent and passive to famine
should had kept shopping for firmer window glass.

a bridge of reasons, deconstructives blocks of decisions
far worse be those half blasted frescos 
venomous too be tales and hall whispers of intrigue,
disguises marred years still after the fact, cease you beast.
I must insist in this act of purge as a most divine intervention
in order to amend my deflected pride should doubt throw amok
the sphere of maddening locus, to hurt another to spare oneself
elevate the divorce of the argument and achieve cloud nine.

sweaty hands, oh betrayal, oh inner conflict
short clipped half-chewed nails do,
do re-frame my face;
hanged in shame as a tribune appointed
turns their bend backs towards the exit on a Sunday afternoon
I be excused for not feeling quite alright.

The stale tale of a mute guardian, rather, how his vigil came to be
halved, encased in magical glass, it wore no shine
knew not that it should reflect and share content
that unto which it came to protect, reveal thy secrets
on a era of peace, eons weld, scathe on a clean facade

Campfire stories recognize the guarded reasons given
volunteered oh yes that guard manned his unconditional surrender
the gift of choice, the post itself comfy and mellow prior
an inkling of foreshadowing by skilled bards

his breath grown weary and finally still, to conserve struggle
accounted by interchanged sleep his eyes slit open, beacons of threat
repose turns to stone, such secrecy that their existence drew a blank in maps
the parchment, books before, Time itself killed them, a myth and fairy-tale now.

Vegetation too aided, ally and friend
to garnish and fortify both secret and prize
no man should ever step within the grounds bemused
be by scourge, rampant insanity or ludicrous stunning luck
you see, more potent than concealment it was forgotten
therefore, immensely at ease. At large it was the hubris
the gay naivety that stayed with the guardian
for the young dread sleep and pursue their lips!

and dreams in exponential leaps gutting away in a perfectly worthy proportional too
to the certainly of a pin drop magnetic pull amiss and lurking amid tosses on a lovers midnight ruse,

penetrating the bosom and killing her at once.
a twice blessed sneeze evacuates the essence of tranquility, emancipating the air.
The superfluous yet distracting fear is at will superficial and haunting.
negate this urgency, a current electrifying and so self-assured.
a crawl of panic licks the surface, connection abridged, throat inflamed,
truly a sorrow state of rot nevermore.

an odd familiar case.

caress the gilded star, at one at last, undo it
a folder holds dearest twisted shadows of yesterday
lovers faces unconfined by chapters of forgiveness
a lost lamb whose flood gates once thought at drought
a dreadnought of disciplined pain at odds with a deck of cards
so many ticks give you away, your soul draws you to the mass
one where the Sunday came with clarity, listen and pierce the veil

to draft a diagnostic the sun must place flip the megalomania
the smothering act of breathing conveys sadness
throws down shade to sea in ruins that I once held under control
firmly, strictly under lock and key and rather tricky to orchestrate
a victimless crime of omission knows not pause
the bogeymen of old were at least honest
they came to sequestrate, maim and rectify the mistake of living
more that meets the third eye, do be polite and take heed
lock the door and hide under the bed sheets

accelerate the selfish machine that pretends to fuel my sunshine
make it boil, torment it deeply and see it implode,
become dizzy with this fever, cold for my fire has ran out
somehow the heartless are afoot on the streets that lurk beneath
like cockroaches on the walls they surprise, outlive and murk about
marking your house round the block, a pirate does not forget nor forgive
and that very hook will dangle thy feet like a salted fish gets gutted prior
to the wind scarce guts reach, bones and a loosen tongue perhaps

a pestilence thrown chop my fingers, eat my throat, say it is a treat
hesitate and know my coping device reconciles joints with fractures
popping off pressure, applying cold iron to exorcise holy presence
this vest ain't a corset and the kids got issues prayers cannot devour

tar curtains cannot trap wild fire and it is foolish to deny
benevolent guardian I wish you didn't disappear over Winter Hill
no matter what fortitude can death attribute to thy works
your surrender aches still, ever so tender
these white flakes aren't snow, back off me.

I greed not for advise, oblivion has a cure encased in glass
tapping away now, hoping to perforate in mild distress
should a vigilant sentry knock out all my teeth
make me feast in blood through a straw, take a wild guess
fiction holds a charming spell to snare a soul under duress
it might just fucking dispel the discontent, sneezing, sneering.

You the fallen one, the one without a name, the one that met God.

the moist tip of my nose itches
my index finger presses on my eye globe
searching unto the socket for want of to do
feel the callous rub the iris
pushin' it firmly like it is the first time
recognizing a sensation, felt lost
cut off by the root, ignited by the wild waste
awaiting the pain, trembling in shame
an accountability to doubt placated by sound
be it the shouts, kings too merge in fantasy
safe travels met in silent whispers run amok
of our sorry state, nonetheless,
an idea cannot be exterminated
easily.

mold the ground, thy passage a myth
the fluctuation of the reference maddening (truly)
the fallen forest comes alive, erupt branches
sudden bloom springs into song, my head nests
birds of prey seek my liver and I am willing
shelter and shade, nurture and leisure
sustaining this p-perfect state makes one camp
gloriously satisfied to the core, accursed to quit it
the fires nightmare and the flesh a fair trade-off
little prince caress not hate, take guard against hostility
tough love is a thorn in my spine firm still
and no amount of alcohol can dilute the lesser man
I could never aspire to be, a foreshadow of projects past
nor the shadow of those that smelted me, goddammit
to erase ones essence is suicide in a swirling chasm of hate
and I swear I sought hard to be different, stronger despite the fact
the fissure on my reflection, my whole being a descent into the unknown
sought to aid another hopeful the product would feed a distraction
to the beast within there is only known opportunity, ever vigilant

a hummingbird sank my sleep effortlessly, am I dreaming again?
the pull drafts me anew, truly my calling come midnight
a murderer stands trial only once, no parole conceded, to the nines
a free solo that came to a close, slippery feet renew faith
and you might think you are in love, a trope of filthy cliche
and mellows like a poorly aged wine takes solace in the majority vote
resorted to a tutu, a distraction, 'yes' to us all will suffocate the euphoric
you lost the game that you hadn't paid for, yet.