Reanimation.

Oxytocin sweet when I knocked you off your feet, not familiar with defeat, I craved you like a carnivore craves meat.  Not sorry for not concealing my conceit, but I cannot help but think about us between the sheets, and I know that I will be like a cat in heat until we kiss then complete.  Playful but passionate as two become one, my Earth orbits your sun, breathe new life into me, do me but I will not be outdone, I always play my cards right until I have won.  Batter up now baby, we will not stop until we have hit a homerun, I will leave you stunned, like a virgin, once again you will feel undone.  Cashmere caresses that will make you feel at ease, at peace as if you were sailing the seas, my lips as soft as a summer breeze, lay back and let me love you until you are pleased.  Tingles up your spine and down to your knees, surrender as my army enters your castle like a siege, until you shiver with sheer pleasure as you are seized, unlocked now by my keys.  Come with me as we soar above the skies soaked in sweat and synchronized, look into my eyes and let yours reflect the lust inside.  Sail with me into the sunrise as your pleasure produces my pride, these highs elevate me more than any other ecstasy could ever provide.  You occupy then dominate my dreams, you are my dopamine, more sensual than Mary Jane dressed in the best shade of green, twice as soothing when I inhale your scent, your fragrance is sinfully serene.  Better at keeping me awake than cocaine or caffeine, I am now your kingdom and you are my queen, fill me with your fantasies no matter how obscene, then let me devour you as you have quickly become my favourite cuisine. Serotonin seduces my sanity as I am overcome with innocent infatuation, adrenaline courses through my veins forever fascinated, disarmed by all you have done to me though there is no need for evaluation, you have brought me back to life, I have been reanimated.  

Higher Ground.

The chaos of my carcinogen filled past crystallizes in my already callous heart, creating numbness inside of me replacing the reasons why I was ever compelled or consoled by others' art.  Agonized by apathy, fairweather friends quickly become foes to me, as I am assaulted by their animosity, how could I  be so naive as to assume that they were ever good for me?  I am not a sacred saint nor am I a spiteful sinner, yet I am surely self-aware enough to see that out of these soulless sods I am a winner.  Waging wars against me with words that they can barely spell or pronounce, we will have to wait to see who is laughing in the end when they are renounced.  Robotic little creatures attempting to be worthy wolves though they are really just sad little sheep bestowed with the lowest quality of wool.  Loyal to no one, these lice would sell their own mothers for a pity of a price, unaware of the benefits to be reaped from compromise or sacrifice.  I disassociate myself from you demons with the utmost distate and disdain, die in the streets devoid of dignity then get devoured by acid rain.  You will taste my wrath when success leaves me rich enough to purchase then resell you insipid whores, you will know my vengeance when you come begging for mercy at my door.  The love and compassion that I felt for you have ceased to exist forevermore, strangers now, you have lost that unconditionally, love don't live here anymore.  Celebrate your greatest loss with the sycophants that you get stupid with and say a silent prayer for your salvation as you remain oblivious to your spirits that will end up suffering.  I win though victory was the last thing that I sought, instead of maligning my character you should have thought before surrendering to the battle that should never have been fought.  With my hands washed clean of you, I am now immune to the disease that the likes of you carry around, lost when we were acquainted but found now that I have finally reached my higher ground.

Regression.

Regression, often my greatest weapon when I feel defensive cheapens my thrills and makes me immune to confession.  I crawl into another layer of skin to avoid the sinking feeling that I am covered in sin then build my castle walls higher to prevent myself from caving in.  Instead of learning the lesson that lies in front of me, I choose to circumflect and tip toe around the misery.  Regret comes when you fail to learn from your mistakes, repeating the same patterns that result in getting burned at the stake.  Wise beyond my years, my foresight ensures that I bend but never break yet something beneath the surface aches to put an end to the artificiality of being fake.  Obsessing day and night about the changes that I need to make, perpetually planning and calculating ways to protect myself from heartbreak.  Midnight falls accompanied by the clarity I crave, I rant, I rave although I do not take the steps to see that my soul is saved.  I age backwards, racing counter clockwise to gain security, there is method to my madness as I am running to spare myself from obscurity.  I run faster then jump higher traveling back to the time that I was carefree, breathe deeper, laugh harder as it becomes clear that I am really only running away from  me.  Haunted by my past and frightened by my future, my present is my pride provoking prize but I keep tearing out its sutures.  Living in three places at once creates chaos and confusion, as I must seize the day and stop living in my head assuming that it will cushion my falls and clear away contusions.  I need to remind myself that I am only human, infallible and often accident prone though I have thrived for so long expecting my best without being cognizant of the misdeeds for which I have yet to atone.  So no more turning ticking time's hands backwards as I retract further into my shell, I can no longer romance regression's sultry spell that has sent me spiraling towards my own personal Hell.  Onwards and upwards I march towards higher ground, lost no more I have regained the strength that will slowly save me from myself and ensure that I am found.

Hunger Games.

Crimson not just scarlet letters take this house and taint its poorly painted walls, as you continue to hide behind your defences and blame me for all of our falls.  I made the decision long ago to stop being a victim yet society keeps thinking that I am unhappy.  How much more time do I need to spend convincing them to let me be?  Traveled far and wide to realize that love truly comes from within, but then they act as if loving thyself is just a sin.  Tired of fighting for your affection in these silly hunger games, you need to play right to keep my attention or I will soon forget your name.  The predator has become the prey as I feel myself growing weak between the knees, count my blessings daily in the hopes of gaining much needed release.  Tossed and turned throughout the night as your words were ringing in my head, replaying every conversation to listen to all the things that were left unsaid.  Experience not maturity  has taught me how to bite my acidic tongue, as I retrace the steps that led me here and left us both so high strung.  Ready as I will ever be to embark on a journey to discover your beauty, much to my chagrin I am showered with reprimand as if it were my duty.  Many efforts were in vain yet I refuse to let them deter me, just dust myself off before I try again, I will remain determined.  I may bend but I will not break, resilience courses through my veins, as I try harder once again to protect my heart using my brain.  Love and its liabilities are just minor thorns in my side, I am stronger than I have ever been, I cannot be defied.  The fire in my eyes burns furiously now, I have reaped what I sowed and survived with my dignity in tow.  

Hope Floats.

I used to think that hope solely floated amidst silver lined clouds, made up by dreamers to keep us fighting for the things that made our hearts beat loud but now I know that it exists, relieved of all my doubts; I can finally breathe again made more resilient by my many shouts.  Growing up not down is more complex than the cycles of the sun, learning to walk now that all I have ever known to do is run; had my share of ups, downs and a lifetime's worth of fun, I am quickly becoming the man I have always had inside, I am the one.  No longer intimidated by the person that I was meant to be, the smile on my face is here to stay as I am truly happy, reflecting on the prisoner I was, so prone to aggression, makes me count my blessings now that I have decided to remain free.  Patience, like a stranger to me, has locked itself in my house and thrown away the key, I now strangely think before I speak, refusing to retaliate or act spitefully whenever I am feeling weak.  Humbled by humility, I am no longer vain or callous, every turn receives another, as I made a conscious decision to disassociate myself from maleficent malice.  Success has once again become an option though for the longest while it seemed selfish and futile, self-awareness seeps in supplying me with the strength to know which battles are worth fighting and which are best won with a simple beguiling smile.  Encompassed with new insight, I have lost the desire to fight but instead regained my voice that suddenly speaks words that fill even the darkest days with the brightest light.  The pain inside was once greater than the will to change, suffocating with the walls caving in I sought a scapegoat to point the finger at instead of accepting the blame.  Acceptance, my greatest lesson has blessed me with the ability to swallow my pride and break ties with my ego which grew weak from hunger and then slowly died.  The oceans of tears I cried have long dried up and turned into tries, naivety blindly led me to wreak havoc and destruction, my tumourous tantrums transgressed into tremors which shook the world leaving me volcanic and always on the brink of eruption.  Sorrow was the much needed interruption that put an end to the assumption that I was not even fit to be abandoned or abducted.  Clarity and new eyes helped me become enlightened and see the errors of my life, equipped with a better understanding of the conflict between boy and man that raged inside, I managed to gain a greater sense of determination to ensure that my future is devoid of strife.  Floating blissfully now above the world knowing that salvation has finally come, I am happy that I have always held on to hope and now march in rhythm to the beat of its divine drum. 

Roses.

Now privy to the knowledge that kisses from roses taste sweeter than the rest, you have made me blossom like a cherry tree in spring, and shown me that real love can make a man feel better than his best.  Daisies and daffodils I have had many on my long and jaded quest, but the sweet embrace of us fulfills my secret garden more poignantly than the others, I must confess.  My water slakes your thirst as your oxygen breathes new life into me so beautifully, enamoured I feed hungrily as I promise to sustain you just as dutifully.  You have ended the drought that filled my world with weeds, making me feel so dark; like a gardener, you cleansed the soil around me that was slowly beginning to poison my heart.  Like art, I am the painter and you are my canvas, I take your hand in my own longing to chase away your fears and prevent you from ever again feeling anxious.  Our tulips bow blissfully, prostrating in submission to the passion that overflows from my cup into yours; I am not a prophet yet somehow I knew that you would quickly become the centre of all the things that I adore.  Like manna from Heaven, one look from you is enough to leave me feeling satisfied and in a daze, I am no sycophant although it seems I cannot shower you with enough praise.  I was predisposed to failure and programmed for defeat but then you came along and swept me off my feet.  I feel the happiest I have in a while now that love has added vibrancy and colour to my otherwise dull, deserted streets.  Your blue eyes have dyed my soul, you are now all that I long to breathe or see.  I promise to always be around when you are sad, lonely or unhappy.  Together, we will make the most beautiful art, as the chemistry between us is ethereal and off the chart.  Beguiled from the start, it seems that we are running faster than we can, you have possessed my heart, and you are now my number one hunger pain.  Tied together with a smile, I took an inch as you ran miles around me, capturing me in your entirety. Darkness will be conquered and soon make way for light, nourish me with your harvest, revive me of my sight.  Your fragrance dances with me, and each time I am reborn; jasmine and lavender hide in shame, for you have succeeded where they were forlorn.  I am clay inside your hands, do with me as you please; I am grateful for this journey we are embarking on, that will help us soar to great heights and then send us sailing across the seas riding the breeze.   I will not neglect you and will tend to you each and every day, just as long as you continue to ensure me through your actions, and not just words, that you are truly here to stay.  

Somewhere.

Filled with new light and perspective, I no longer feel the need to be so defensive as I realize that idle talk is just cheap while the refusal to achieve my goals comes at a price that is more expensive.  My heart is once again open as my smile has ceased to be so pensive.  Yet somehow you still deny that I have altered, still act though I tripped, stumbled, and faltered.  Right as rain, I have changed; grown as tall as the redwood trees.  While you have merely remained a name wistfully whispered by their leaves' lonely breeze.  Unnerved and at ease, my spirit sails amongst the stars as it silently reflects on how I have travelled so far.  Crossed heartbreak hotels which were the homes where I once lived.  Happier now than ever before now that I am finally growing up; I am no longer just a kid.  Yet somehow you still deny that I am wise beyond my years.  Hold on to the notion that I am still haunted by my fears.  You refuse to accept that I am blissfully blessed.  You would only love me if I had remained vulnerable and undressed.  Success is right around the corner now as I have started to rightfully reap what I sow.  I hold on tighter to my dreams of destiny, relinquished the worst that composed the rest of me.  Yet somehow you still act as if I am a pawn in your charmed game of Chess.  Believe that I am weaker than the values in the west.  I will rise again, as I am not a flightless bird, accept that I have learned from the endless obstacles that I have endured.  Another day, another dollar, you drift away and then get smaller.  Shrinking faster than you can run, I just wish I could say that it was fun.  You blew it before you knew it, bit off more than you could chew.  Acted like I would not make it, now it's your life that is somehow subdued.  Yet somehow it is still my fault that your life stands at a hallow halt, somehow you claim I am the one, the moon, that has eclipsed yourshallow sun.  I am the ruler, my kingdom is no longer weak.  My sorrow has been undone, it and you are now antiques. Yet somehow, somewhere, over the rainbow, you and I may once again, find ourselves dancing cheek to cheek. 

Life's a Beach.

Acceptance, like a silent blessing swoops in and ensures me that I will see an end to my suffering.  Like the light at the end of my tunnel, hope floats towards me as I take hold, no longer worried that my life will forever be filled with trouble.  I now stop to smell the flowers, surprised that they can still smell so sweet, although I am more conscious yet comfortable with the fact that I am flying solo down a one way street, I know deep inside that it will not result in my death or defeat.  No longer filled with malice or deceit, I have made the decision to practise what I perpetually preach, as I sit in the lotus position, begin my meditation, and prepare myself to assist others with the knowledge that fills my cup, then overflows, each and every week.  Callous complaints that once coexisted with cockiness inside my heart no longer provide me with a false sense of relief, I am growing taller, and stronger every day as I become aware of the king that resides within, the same one whom I had once mistakenly believed was merely a thief covered in sin.  I am testament to the fact that humans have an innate ability to change, I hold firm to my beliefs that being an individual in a society of sheep does not need to be strange, or seem deranged.  Rearranged, with everything in its right place, I put my best foot forward as my make-up crumbles to the ground and reveals my right face.  True to the tests of time, I have observed that what goes down must come up as similarly as one can only ascend when they feel like their life has reached its end.  The impermanence of objects although attributed to infants is a truth that I have witnessed in all of its magnificence.  I refuse to return to the realm of self-righteousness or superficiliaty when I have seen that the best things in life are really free.  As free as my soul that hovers above me, watching blissfully, content for once for what it finally sees.  I crawled through life for so long, ignoring the wings that I had been born with that would have assisted when I needed to leap over my obstacles that sometimes felt like walls, which led me to question how I ever survived with a mind that remained narrow and simultaneously small.  Who knew that happiness would make me feel so light, unburdened by ailments, illness, or pretentious plights, I set sights on my destiny which finally feels within my reach.  Spring has helped me blossom like the cherry tree, as I now see that life can be as peaceful as the sun setting on an isolated, sandy beach.

Serene.

Sober never seemed like it could ever be so serene, until I was taken outside of myself and forced to accept that all that glitters is not necessarily as beautiful as it might seem.  Purified perspective points me in the right direction and paints a picture of a person that I thought long ago had abandoned me and set out to create mass internal destruction.  No longer coveting all things covered in the colour black, as I fight back, feeling renewed, more confident in my ability to avert others' acidic attacks.  I am not a sheep yet for so long I got lost amongst a failing flock, I am actually Bo Peep, the solo shepherd who controls the block.  Removed from my resources, I found the greatest gift of all, resurrected, stronger than ever, no longer weak enough to slip or fall.  Once again, I can see the light that had died behind my eyes, assured that I have become someone that I can love, instead of the social pariah I was, that I despised.  I am ready to take on any challenge, no hurdle will seem too high, as I prepare myself for the greatest battle of all and set out to defeat the evils that attempt to lead me astray at night.  Three weeks is all it took to make me count my blessings, for me to realize that I have been blessed with all the best things.  To rant, rave or cry about the problems that I had now seems like the weakest choice, as I have come face to face with a society that shouts but has no voice.  Fortunately, for me, I come from a land where I am granted liberty, integrity, and dignity; where humans have value and are not transient vagabonds walking the streets and paid in pity.  I am stronger now than ever before, ready as I will ever be to spread my wings and soar, dejected no more, I plan to be the man that I adore and lead myself to victory, in my own personal revolutionary civil war.

Tricky.

You think you're tricky but you're really not tricking anyone, foolish maybe because baby. you are still the foolish one.  Trapped in a maze that your denial weaved, wrapped in a web of lies caused by your own deceit and disease.  Sure, you can play house with any Tom, Dick, or Harry but at night when it's cold, and you feel lonely, it's just scary.  Traumatized by me?  No, accept fault for once, you were too weak to try me, which is why you've failed more than once.  A part of me, let's call it naive, believed that one day we could achieve serenity but those thoughts are now bereaved.  Your careless vehicle carried my heart as its passenger until the last day; right now, when I have released myself from your boughs, I am ready to throw down.  Temporary insanity brain of yours tried to tell me that you missed what was not just once, but twice already yours.  You have used up all your coupons now though, which explains why you're running around town with all those other whores.  Silly of me to think that you could ever be the one, when on my dreariest of days, I still outshone you more than the sun.  You have the nerve to come back and request that I let the birds that circle above your corpse get the best and just leave you to your death?  Done.  I am tired of playing this game for one.  Enjoy getting ravaged by savages and such, with me, you were a blessing, now you just looked cursed to the touch.

Hope.

There is a tiny voice at the deepest darkest void that calls out for hope although it is one I often avoid.  Instead I poison myself with alcohol, intoxicating me until I am irrelevant, and oblivious yet I am not insidious.  I want to listen to the voice within that beseeches me to stop my sins but instead I have another drink, numbing the pain and silence, consistently on the brink.  On the verge of something exciting yet always a few steps back, it is almost as if I dare to react and risk undergoing my own personal massive attack.  I am unsure how to continue when I can feel my heart breaking in my chest, shattering into a million pieces; why couldn't it be as easy for me as it is for the rest?  My journey has led me to fleeting moments of hope where I could feel a new sun dawning on my day but then it has also victimized me, raped me, beaten me, and made me its prey.  I am only human, how much more am I supposed to take?  How much must I be forsaken by God's salacious snake?  It bites me on the daily, proof for all that I have done wrong, yet I continue to march along, smile plastered upon my face llke nothing could possibly go wrong.  I pray one day I listen to this voice that calls for hope so that I can become one with my future and no longer viewed as a joke.  Tunnel vision heart of mine just sees what lies ahead, but at this rate all that I can see is another sibling dead.

Gone.

I hear you in the silence that has replaced your vibrant voice, and in the emptiness that remains, it is an all-encompassing void.  Your laughter fills the rooms of the house that I live in, it has failed to stay a home, even the walls seem to be sealed with suffering.  The shadows at night conceal you, tricking my cognition into thinking that it was just a dream but then I see your picture and I am forced to accept that all that glitters is not necessarily what it may seem.  In my mind's eye, I envision you, always looking your best; decked out to the nines, you were in a class above the rest.  The loneliness is daunting as you haunt me everywhere I go, it is even more alarming when I can almost hear you singing along to songs that you loved on the radio.  The sweet scent of your fragrance lingers, stronger than ever before, it ebbs and flows and tickles my nose, confusing my conscience through its thunderous throes.  The flowers bow their heads in respect now that you are no longer here, as isolation has overpowered love, filling my grieving heart with five thousand fears.  For years, this greatest loss of all will be mourned,  though I am  unsure if it is even reperable, as I wish I could rewind time to when we were the best of friends; we were truly inseperable.  We shared the greatest bond in that we understood one another's temperamental brains, which is why we were always so quick to forgive after the outbursts that would pour out of us like acid rain.  Two of a kind, we were such a rare breed yet I am begrudgingly forced to accept that your spirit now resides within the breeze, kissing the trees.  Nothing will ever be the same now that your light has been dimmed like a candle in the wind, I can accept that nature has taken its course but I reject this unrelentless upset that has left me bereft and so grim. You were the greatest love that I have ever known so I must muster all the strength that I have inside to keep my head up as I march on.  Almost two months to the day, yet I still choke and hold back the tears that do not allow me to accept that my most valued friend and confidante is actually gone.

Drive-By.

Satisfied in my own skin, I no longer feel the need to question whether I will encounter an end to my suffering.  Calm, collected, and cool, I refuse to continue to be everybody's fool.  There were days past where my heart's truth leaked from my sleeve until I found the strength within to finally get up and leave.  I am the beauty now although I was once the beast, as I forced myself to realize that I had simply been settling for the least.  Here I rise, growing taller than the trees, I will be sky high, you will even feel my spirit in the warm, summer breeze.  A glimpse into my eyes will take you on a carousel ride, round and round you will go until you confide that if you had even walked a mile in my shoes, you would want to run, repress, and then hide.  My transformation began with accepting my flaws, improving and maturing in the hopes of separating myself from the boy who would laugh in the face of the law.  I outlive, outplay, then outlast the world's best, as I attempt to remain humble enough to not have to attest that I have survived and endured more than the rest.  My demeanour remains the same and my behaviour does not change although I work hard to regain the part of my sanity that will sustain my brain.  They can take my body, but never my soul or my mind; one of a kind, I will not return to being stuck in a bind but instead pretend that I have been institutionalized enough to partake in society's daily grind.  Compassionate soul that I am, and occasionally too kind, I prioritize others' happiness before I even consider mine.  Over, done, I need to move on, as I have strategized methods to capture their pawns.  I would be a king if life was just Chess, as I have learned my lessons; I cannot be a mess. Undressed and nude but never vulnerable or rude, my path will lead to my salvation and hopefully with it, it will bring solitude.  Turn envious green as you see me flying so high, I have accepted my wrath; my sorrow was merely a drive-by.  

Man in the Mirror.

The sullenly sudden separation between sword and stone were sadly signifying that we were both growing old.  The vibrancy in your eyes has started to grow dull, as your determination, and drive for life have suddenly come to a lull.  I look at you and no longer see the passion that once lived behind your eyes, no longer see the little man who had the biggest plans.  Has life been this bad to you?  To make you lose your will to excel?  Or is it that with each new day, you are miles away from what you came here for anyway and closer to your own personal Hell.  I glance in the mirror and realize that this man is me, yet instead I choose to circumflect, and pretend that he is outside of my own body.  By accepting no fault, the onus becomes anyone else's but my own, taking responsibility for my lack of self-love entails that these sins are not mine to atone.  Blood on my fingers from the crimes I commit, hoping the glove will not fit and that the jury acquits.  Knee deep in my own grime and grit, how much longer will this man allow this to permit?  When will my reflection show who I am inside, instead of revealing the weaknesses and failures from which I have so long attempted to hide?  No concealer or foundation could cover the scars that shroud my heart, only time, the ultimate healer, will allow for me to rise from the ashes and gain a fresh start.  I can no longer accept the man in the mirror that does not reflect the man I am inside, all frustrations aside, I will conquer this Earth, and become a household name, worldwide.

Anew.

These endless tears flow from my eyes and pierce through the paper canvas of my life.  As hard as I try to paint with vibrancy and colour, the blacks and whites overpower my wishes, revealing the sadness that lies dormant, and is undercover.  Every step forward often results in several leaps back, this process repeats until I no longer have the strength to fight back.  Empty vessel heart of mine that overflows and leaves me inept, carelessly reveals the emotions that I have tried so hard to repress.  I know that I am stronger, I have taken beatings worse than this, yet despite the knowledge that I possess the power of Thor, somehow, something remains amiss and leaves me yearning for more.  It consistently pulls me into the darkest abyss, that tears up my insides, and uncovers the memories which I refuse to relive or  reminisce.  I am only human, there is only so much I can take before I am filled with thunder, and the anger within awakes.  It shakes me to my core, causing earthquakes and tremors that roar, but in the end, I am all that I abhor upon coming to the realization that I have become my own rage's repugnant whore.  So what now?  Do I fight the urge within that makes me want to pull each hair out of my head strand by single, sickening strand?  Or do I take a stand, and ensure that I will rise the better man?  I am a king, yet I choose to live like a peasant.  I was born with wings, yet I crawl on the ground with all that is unpleasant.  I refuse, as of right now, to allow this to ensue.  No more bitterness, or blues, no giving in to the remorse or guilt that have the capacity to leave me dazed and confused.  From this very moment, I vow to make the change that I will not engage in the dance of the deranged.  I am strong enough to mend, and once again, promise myself that I will be my very own best friend.  

War.

You infantile, prepubescent, pathetic little child, why do you play at staying calm, when it's clear to observers that your emotions are running wild?  You claim to be the most stunning, although your beauty is hardly even mild.  Give up the act and foolishness, it is starting to become quite tired.  Despised through all the land, you are most similiar to the king who has played his last hand.  Like a genie annoyed with granting wishes, your wishes are no longer my command.  I have given in to your last demands, and see that, now more than ever, you are hardly a man.  Lost little boy with your bag full of lies, open your eyes and realize that you are despised.  Your inability to accept fault is murdering your allies, as you acquired the inability to shock, your failed attempts for attention are no longer a surprise.  Once, you were a prize, now you are a curse, no longer a blessing, but quite the reverse.  Stuck on repeat, your lessons are more similar to mistakes, as they rewind, then replay, it is too late to activate the brakes.  Your engine stalls in those fleeting, hopeful moments in between, but then your eyes lose their light again, and all I can see within is gangrene.  You are rotten to the core, and that is why you are rotting, it is no longer hard to guess what are you up to, or deceitfully plotting.  Unreliable to the end, keep drowning your many sorrows and sins, as you watch helplessly as your friends fall to the ground like bowling pins.  You will surely end up alone crowded in a room full of strangers, and the saddest part is that you are aware yet choose to ignore all of the danger.  Continue to dance blindly, staggering back and forth between farce and delusion, anyone that is fooled by your stupidity has fallen for the illusion.  You project this image of one who is self-assure yet in confidence and secrecy, you admit that you are searching for a cure.  You are a cancerous growth, that I need to cut off, you have filled my lungs with nicotine, and become the black tar that makes me cough.  Avast, adieu, you have poisoned me for the last time, goodbye, I hate you, I have finally rebelled, and put an end to your war crimes.

Stillborn.

Tragic time ticks away and tricks me into thinking that we are almost done, as my memories of us have started to feel more like bullets in my loaded gun.  If you knew you were unhappy, why did you smile like you were having so much fun?  I should have known better than to think that you were ever the one.  Now, you should feel guilty for the way you made me believe, that paradise was just around the corner, as if Eden was something that we could achieve.  I feel so deceived, as I watch you walk away unfazed, looking so relieved.  Lying on the floor with my heart in my hands, I slowly give up, refusing to give in to any of your last demands.  Yet, I still hardly understand, how you failed to be the one to deliver me to my Promised Land. Something has got to give before I end up sad and lonely again, naivety has run its course as you are sadly still my hunger pain.  I am unsure what to do now that my life is barraged with rain, as I wash my hands clean of you, and watch the remnants of us circle the drain. Remorse and sorrow fill the home that we once lived in, much to my dismay and chagrin, I cannot help but allow myself to feel the suffering.  I am not a sore loser, nor a poor sport yet I fail to comprehend how to view this as a win, as I long to rewind time to when loving you never felt like the eighth deadly sin.   I cannot help but wonder if life made you this way or if these flaws were inborn, as I lie naked on the floor, with my heart in my hands, feeling so torn.  You smelled as sweet as the most lovely roses, although you were more similar to their thorns.  As you pricked my finger, and made me bleed, on countless occasions, I now see that our love was stillborn.  

Journey.

The saddest day of my life was unexpected and blindsighted me in a single, sorrowful instant, time stood still that very day as I was forced to accept that it was not a misprint. Frozen, I stood not wanting to accept that you had been chosen, to return to God to watch over us, you were always so ambrosian. My voice failed me, as I tried to hold my head up high and stand tall and strong, not wanting to reveal that I really felt like it would get caught in my chest, like the saddest song. Now I sing the blues, for I know what real pain can do; how it can turn one's frown upside down, leaving them feeling worse than if they had been subdued. I wish I could undo the sadness, or turn back the hands of time, wish I could dismiss my ability to reminisce, and gain eternal sunshine in my spotless mind. I watched your slow decline, saw your spirit slowly begin to give up, and then to fade; instead of reverting to the lost little boy I was when first subjected with loss, I will count my blessings, and not allow myself to be afraid. Your legacy will live on through me, as my persona is such a positive reflection of yours; already, the opportunist in me, is finding the optimism that lies within me, as I now see all of the exciting newly opened doors. The fire inside me has brightened, and gains power with each new day, as the determination within me enlightens, my ambition has returned much stronger now than it was yesterday. I have let go of all hostility and hatred, started a new chapter with a clean slate; tabula rasa tenderness that will be sure to help me improve my fate. My destiny will be fulfilled, as I am now going to be working for two, I will grow wiser, as change truly comes with the desire to do so, my motivation will be resilient, and refuse to be removed. The sun shines sweetly as it rises, embracing the world for a new day and with it a new start; losing you was hard but will ultimately be the catalyst that reignited the spark that died inside my heart. My journey begins now, not with a single step, but with a giant bound, I can gladly, and fortunately say that upon being reminded of my own mortality, I have found the reasons to regain solid ground.

Reptile.

The lack of communication brought on the demise of our relations, like an ancient civilization, falling apart; it all resulted in the overwhelming frustration that led to the condemnation of my bruised and battered, broken heart. We were of Atlantis, as our continent slowly flooded, entering a state of total disrepair. Sumerian Gods could not have saved us, for ours had become a planet devoid of oxygen, how were we supposed to breathe with no air? Slowly but surely, our lifelines were cut, as we floated much too far out at sea, with the remaining strength within me, I prayed for salvation, for an escape, or an end to the misery of your company. I stayed because you made it so convenient, gave me stability and security at the cost of my very soul. Naive and foolish me, like a kitten, I continued to drink the poisoned milk that you would provide for me, endlessly, in the most deceiving bowls. I watched you stray, silently, refusing to accept that we had reached our untimely end. Foolishly, I denied the truth, and attempted to keep you around, confusing you for my dearest friend. But alas, in the end, my heart was unable to mend as I continued to pretend that redemption was just around the bend. You laid me out like dirty laundry, belittled me at every opportunity, made it your goal to remind me of my unforgivable flaws. Take your place at centre stage, and bow as your audience gives you a standing ovation; here comes your shower of applause. I wish you had the decency to tell me that you were through with me instead of feigning interest through the form of careful control. I would definitely be different now if that were the case, but I would not be as wise, as you taught me the greatest lessons; I grew wiser and more bold. I learned to be accepting, never jealous, or overbearing but instead to share my feelings, be trusting, and more caring. Your skin might shed with each new year, yet I still see through the smoke and wonder. You are a reptile, with scaly skin, always wishing the worst for others, competing with them until you trick yourself into believing that you have succeeded at stealing their thunder. Your tongue flicks in and out of your mouth as you lasciviously search for your next unsuspecting victim or prey, hopefully your efforts are one day in vein, as society becomes privy to the games that you attempt to play. You were a snake in sheep's clothing, fortunately I finally saw through the facade and left. I have survived as a result, I am not one to be played, or grow old, lonely, or become bereft. I have finally been set free, liberated long enough to catch my breath.

Critic.

Denial, like a double sided sword, cuts deeper when coupled with remorse, as reality and its harshness has started to run its course. Grief grows thicker than fog making it hard to see the tunnel, let alone the light at its dreary end, as I muster all of my knowledge in the attempt to comprehend how to create a new beginning from a story that refuses to end. Something from nothing but at what cost, how much more compromise will it take before I have mastered the art of being my own boss? Soul searching should not feel selfish, yet for some reason it always does, as the inability to accept things for what they are has started to deeply affect the beauty that once was. If I could, I would rewind time to the days when life always seemed so easy, instead my present preyed on my past, making the world that surrounded me become so sleazy. Shadowed by my doubts, my potential stagnates inside me like milk that sits on the counter waiting to turn sour, as I pace and watch life pass me by, and wonder when it will be my hour. When will the sun shine for me, showing me that all was naught in vain; when will my universe unfold so I can feel at peace within my soul again? I slowly watch as each one of my dreams miscarries or is still-born, dead on arrival ambition of mine tends to break me, and make me feel so torn. Distraught, I dance dead behind the eyes, forcing my feelings to fly away, repressing them, and donning a disguise. I crave clarity to supplement the logic and reason that long to be let out, I am my harshest critic on the coldest days, what happened to the confidence that once emanated within me, and filled me from the inside out. I know I have limitless success lying dormant in me, waiting to be tapped into, yet I foolishly give up before tasting the failure which once had the ability to make me feel renewed. I will march on, and carry on, remove this monkey from my back. I will believe in myself and know my dreams wil be achieved, no longer falling victim to my endless, scrutiny and attacks. The king is back, and will be better than he ever was before; I may have been yesterday's fool, but I will never be today, or tomorrow's postwar whore.

Never Be The Same Again.

Time stands still as it all still feels so surreal, refusing to speed up so my heart can heal. My mind races with questions as denial pulses through my veins, like abstract art, this life has become a mystery to my brain. Childless parents and parentless children, we can become orphans in a single, somber instant. Wartorn world that we live in is imperfect as can be, yet the selfishness that ravages my insides wishes that you were still here with me. Words turn into water in the palm of my hands, slipping away from my cognition like the finest grains of sand, yet I still cannot understand why death tears apart my Wonderland. Although I am a soldier and have survived many atrocities, I would go through it all again to have my best friend right next to me. My role model is gone, I am like a sheep without its shepherd now, as I look to the stars that light up the night sky and dare to ask my maker how. How is it that dictators, hatemongers, and ugliness remain yet beauty is taken away so young, like a runaway train? How does my heart not overflow with the pain that threatens to devour it whole, now that it is no longer surrounded by your beautiful soul? Unconsoled, I lay my head down every night refusing to allow the tears that threaten to trickle from my eyes, for they will cry rivers for the injustice that I feel, even though time will eventually be kind and allow another sun to rise. Sometimes strength fails me and I become as weak and innocent as a young child devoid of pride, as I solemnly search for a hand to hold, someone to lean on, or somewhere to hide. Without you, there is no me, I feel like I ceased to exist with your untimely end. At times you were the only one who saw the soul that cried inside me, and that is when you were my only friend. Lonely now, I try to pick up the pieces of the scattered memories that remain, like fragments of shrapnel, they pierce my heart like a dagger, I will never be the same again.

Good Night Moon.

The lines between reality and unclarity are blurred, as the voices in my head that attempt to accept that you have passed prefer to remain whispered. In you, I saw the brightest light, your future seemed so promising, as the love I have for you remains, never wilting, only blossoming. You were my greatest role model, I looked up to you even when you were down. And now as the sands of time turn, I die a little inside knowing that you will be lowered into the ground. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, from the Earth you came, and in God I trust, that you will forever remain a part of me, a star in my sky that shines brighter than the rest. Like the sun that rises in the east and sets in the west, my love for you was so magnificent, I gave you nothing short of my best. My greatest role model that I would stay up late to emulate as I watched you with adoring eyes, those same eyes fill with tears now that I know that you have reached your premature demise. I found you lying face down and assumed that you were just sedated, until I arose early the next morning to sadly see that your soul had been liberated. You are now with my other Earth angel, floating high above the skies, I will carry you in my heart until the very end, your legacy will live on in the brightest lights of your beautiful daughter's tear filled eyes. The only certainty in life is death so with the utmost strength and candor, I attest that your name will remain on my lips until my very last breath, you are my commander. Rest in peace my beauty queen, we will meet again one day soon; every night I will remember you, as I wave and say, "Good night, moon."

Resilience.

Disillusionment deepens the depression that drearily duets with one's demise; I dance disenchanted denying the depression that dared to darken and dye your divine eyes. Misery mated with melancholia and made me mourn the melodies that you mustered that I often mistook for lullabies, as the fire inside you chose to flee instead of fight creating embers, then ashes before departing and saying its final goodbye. I am weakened by your weakness, what happened to the wonder that once won and would no longer wash your sorrows ashore? Saddened, I can only speculate now that love don't live here anymore. Everything is nothing now as impermanence asserts itself, the potency of your potential declined and started to melt like the Arctic shelf. Was it not enough that I would hang on to your every word, or was it inadequate, as it is now obvious that your restless spirit felt as caged as a captured bird. Bountiful bliss that I am now forced to accept as a blessing in your place is hardly a substitute for you who held the power to rehabilitate the human race and the sole recipient of the rare love inside me that now feels displaced. Misplaced but not lost as the resilience within me is certain to be my saving grace, as I know that our day will come where my soul will feel as renewed as the first time ever I saw your face. With the memories of my mortality, I am forced to either accept death as a part of life or succumb to it as well. You are now Eve in paradise, we will have our Eden again as I will forever remain under your spell. The blatant beauty that you bore was often beleaguered by the blues, new beginnings can occur through some endings, my friend, although ultimately, it is our own volition to decide what we will choose. I toss salt over my shoulder, and grasp tighter to my lucky charms as I say several prayers for you, hoping that you are now safe and soundly protected from harm. Choking on the truth, I feel I have no choice but to accept the harshness that reality relies on to take us by surprise, even though I know that a day will arrive when we will be reunited and bask once again in the sun's majestic rise. Instead of failing, or falling, I will be persistent and prevail turning my sadness into triumphs and tries, I will not give up, or back down but cherish the life that I have been given, and view each new day as the reward that it is, for each one is truly a prize.

Believe.

Through all these years, and all these memories, there has been you. You pulled me through time, and now I search for you. I listen for your voice in the wind that moves my soul. I try to smell your scent, the pleasures that would make you whole. I attempt to feel the touch of your caress, when you would dry the tears that fell from my weary eyes. I dare to question why, you have ceased to exist without allowing room for me to say a proper goodbye. In smoke, I look for you, hoping that you will give me a sign that you have passed onto the other side, and gone home to a place that is free of flawed design. I cry, sob, wail, then weep as the strength comes and goes. Although, you left with grace, I know that your independent nature and spirit chose to leave this world for a better, and far more liberating place. Now that you are gone, I can still feel your energy in everything I do. From the moment I wake, to the last hours of my day, my thoughts and prayers are centred on you. Even the blues that rise to the surface longing to be put to music and sung, are nothing without the strength you gave me to articulate the words that flavour my tongue. From the Earth we rise, and back into it we go, our blood soaks into the soil, making us far more immortal than we will ever know. Yet still, I long to hear the softness of your voice when you would harmonize, creating melodies that came from deep within your heart, and to the Heavens they would rise. I drink freely from the fountain of youth hoping to carry on your legacy and one day make you proud, you were my queen, now and forever, we will meet again when my life ends, mending my heart, as we play amongst the clouds. A requiem for the dreams that I saw reflected in your eyes, now I will have to muster the courage to sing the sweetest reprise. The tree of life that continues to grow inside me will always have branches that are made beautiful by your leaves. From now, until my dying day, in your essence, I will always believe.

Goodbye.

These tattoo tears that are tumultuous terrorize my eyes, never superfluous. The sadness I've seen is too much for movie screens, wildly, as it moves through the streets, my angered, agitated ambulance careens. I crossed the finish line only to discover it was lined with dirt and not gold, prayed to find someone to hold to ensure that I would survive another night, and make it through the cold. I get older, never wiser, as my torrid past catches up to me and leaves me out at sea. Drowning in my misery, choking on thoughts of suicide that refuse to let me be. The sharper the knife, the lesser the strife that will slowly cut away the pain. The repressed memories and rage can no longer set the stage for the fake smile that gets plastered on my face. Packed my bags, and relinquished the spiritual baggage that kept me grounded within this place. The friends that solely pretend to be concerned have all been abandoned now, as I count the ways in which this camel's back is broken; it is time to take my final bow. No longer able to put on an act in this life that is merely a stage, all the players and actors within it have resulted in my heart being unable to set itself free from this cage. Theatrics, dramatics, melodrama too, are the ingredients that once added the flavouring to my sorrowful stew. Tears stain my face like mascara running from eyes that once sparkled and seemed so bright, praying, pleading that I will survive through just one more night. If I somehow do, and my soul has still survived, I continuously attempt to trick myself into believing that I am still grateful to be alive. But alas, I am not, as there is so much that is not apparent on the surface. At twenty four, I feel like I have served my purpose and I am no longer nervous to meet my creator, and bid adieu to this sedimentary circus. Goodbye, au revoir, in time we will meet again. I failed, and have lost; all I ever wanted was a friend.

Clown.

I will do what ever it takes to shake you off and make my way to the top. I'll step on your fingers, stand on your back, use and abuse you until you can no longer take my massive attack. I am no longer able to be fake or phony and feign ignorance as if I do not realize that you are far below me. I will always find others that can be more loyal, you were only good for me when I needed you, the milk to my oil but you made the wrong move, and now any chances of us rekindling are spoiled. My path to success will be lined with the blood, sweat and tears of my peers who did not hesitate or think twice before acting weird and not as wise as intelligent as appeared. In arrears, I will display your fears before you, lay them out straight on your front lawn and show you that you doubted me, then kicked me when I was down. That you are troubled now, and are far more entertaining than any common circus clown. From Pierrot to Bozo, Pennywise or Krusty, your jokes are starting to fail to amuse, your talent's starting to get rusty. You are a one trick pony, the old dog that could not learn new tricks, so go to sleep now, rest your head down, it is time for you to get fixed. I have had my fair share of dealing with your audacity, every time you needed me, I was there to no avail, and even still you tried to sass me. Only ended up looking like an ass, you court jester fool, just a word of advice for the future, put away your phone and pick up a book and get schooled, or at the very least learn the rules before you try to play games in which you are untrained. Missiles, shrapnel, landmines, and atomic bombs became the desert rain songs that were only ever able to keep you calm. Napalm to my gunpowder, your bow and arrows never stood a chance. Success is on the horizon, so sweet that I can taste its virtuous victory on my tongue, as I climb up higher on life's rungs. You can stay stung, I refuse to help you out or pick you up again. No longer privy to your petulance, I am now the only friend I need to mend.

Coming of Age.

Though my love for you remains unchanged, as we sift through the pieces of our past, now estranged. These padded walls and restraints could not even succeed at making me feel more deranged than you did whenever you would act so strange. Our puzzle remains undone, as our story unfolded to reveal that you were not the one. Not to be outdone, I toyed with your emotions, played you like Russian Roulette, and my words were the gun. I pulled the trigger every time I berated you, filled your head with bullets when I would lament that you were slowly making me lose it. My sanity somehow survived the suffering that singed me every time you would avert your eyes. Your gaze phased me more than the grays of my moods that would drown me in sorrow for several stifling days. Yet somehow I stayed amused, bound to you, allowing myself to wrap further around your fingers as if yours was the hand that fed me; but you misled me. Once I became cognizant of the evil and villainous nature it was so easy for you to assume, the walls around me started to cave in, making it hard for me to breathe, as if I was trapped inside the room filled with an unsurmountable and impending sense of doom. Pricked my heart on your loom one too many times for me to resume, or remain within the confines of chaotic control that would consume me, like fire furiously flickers becoming wildfire and spreading through forests ferociously. I am burn victim number one, and you are number two; the damage cannot be reversed now that the pages of our legacy are the reasons why we are both cursed. Revelations of rage run wild, forcing me to remain caged; we are both damaged, although we have finally come of age.

Gratitude.

As each second turns to minutes, and the hours start to pass me by, I see with further clarity, that I am slowly but surely becoming the reason why the sun rises each morning in my sky. I work harder to attain the things that I know that I deserve, no more straws will break this camel's back, the very thought of it is even quite absurd. I was made to move mountains, to soar throughout the skies and Heavens above, instead of being created to endlessly search for, but never find, the prospects, and not promises of unrequited love. I am a force of nature, a soothing breeze when I am calm, or a storm on my worst days, that could even intimidate atomic bombs. Slowly but surely, I am winning the race, and becoming the person that even I would want to date, as I pick up the pace and realize that expectations convolute reality, and disappoint when they are late. I grow older, wiser, and become enlightened, as I enter the promised land; I no longer see a reason to seek another man to fulfill demands that only I will ever be equipped to accommodate or understand. Clipped wings no more, the sky is not the limit, as I possess the potential to become all that the world needs, and adores. I will stop searching for happiness in the blues of another's eyes, cease the futile search for a partner that will make me feel whole again inside. Instead, I have become aware of the beauty that I contain within, cognizant of the colour of confidence now that I have developed an appreciation for the skin that I am in. This newfound humility washes over me, cleansing me of my misdeeds as I sit and contemplate, all of the lessons that I have learned and have yet to learn, choosing to employ my own free will rather than to leave it all to fate. My gratitude increases as I count my blessings every day, I thank the universe and God above for holding my hand when I was lost, and helping me regain my footing; I am finally on my way.

Eternity.

My tiny hands hold yours whenever the world makes me feel so small, as you whisper words of wisdom, and remind me to breathe to prevent myself from further falls. Inconsistency, no stranger to me, cowers in fear when you are near. You are my tower of hope, beacon of strength, and the rungs to my ladder which help me climb to higher lengths. As I break and shatter as easily as an egg, you crack the whip harder and remind me that I was born a king, and never made to beg. With your support, I am invincible, the sky even fails to be my limit; you have managed to capture my heart in the best of ways, and with it you have won all the beauty, love, and honesty that are contained within it. Friends may come, whilst others go, like roses, and graves that line life's rows, yet beauty remains in the calmness of your voice, in the ways in which you remind me that even some victims have a choice. Mansions in paradise await for you to claim your keys, as it is solely true friends like you that are ever able to emulate the tropical breeze that is sought out to make us feel at ease. Although the days between our reunions often turn into weeks, and then even months; I am forever indebted as I count my blessings, that I was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you even once. My heart overflows with love at the mere thought that our paths crossed and that we coexist; often, when I am sad, or blue, just the thought of you, is enough to dismiss the sadness that devours me whole and send it tumbling towards my own antagonistic abyss. Gratitude sets the mood whenever memories of us rise to the surface; your unfaltering friendship is often enough to take mere fantasies and fairy tales and weave them into actual bliss. Without you, there is no me, for your guidance often led my way like shepherds lead their sheep. Any time I need a helping hand or just a shoulder on which to lean, I am thankful to have been blessed with friends who never hesitate to intervene. Although this Superman has been reaching out for help more frequently now than in days gone by, he is eternally blessed to have been caressed by the lives of kindred spirits who are my truest friends, and in actuality, Earth angels in disguise.

Sonnet.

Now that you are resting, I will softly sing you lullabies, and whisper sweet nothings solely, the kind that even bitterness does not despise. I will tell you the tale of the sweet sister heroine who marched proudly along, who despite her many sadnesses still sang the sweetest songs. My guitar gently weeps as it replays your life, a masterpiece canvas that devoid of its strife, was often filled with more strength than even the sharpest of knives. As a child, I would emulate you, follow you around and mimic your every move. Now that I am older, your caustic wit, attitude, and confidence helped me get into and then remain in the groove. You are a legacy, an epic to be shared with generations to come, yet these tears fail to cease as I fail to feel numb. The weather was sweet, the sun you often referenced came out and shone bright for you, and as it grew dark, the mysterious moon made a magnificent appearance, so I could soundly say good night to you. With you serenely asleep, I will paint with vibrancy to ensure that my own life is twice as sweet, I will grow into the man who remained idle until now, and rise from the ashes instead of falling victim to defeat. I sing you to sleep, as I am rest assured that slumber has received you well, yours is a sonnet that my lips will eternally retell.

1825.

Like water, you slipped through my fingers as I remained transfixed, knowing that I was changed forevermore. The sand in our hourglass had run out and thus, so had our time, as I still anxiously await the day that closure finally washes ashore. Some days, I cannot put into words how much I miss your breath against my neck or the way that you would save me, whenever I found myself shipwrecked. On other days, the electricity between us would leave me shell shocked, and feeling less lost than found, as I plead for my own salvation, hoping I would find the strength to abandon our battleground. Our holy lovers' war had left us both bereft, as we tried to catch our breath and circumvent our inevitable deaths. Stop loss syndrome as we both returned to our respective lives alone, attempted to survive, with the hopes of making it on our own. You took the road less traveled by and diverged creating your own path, as I started to repeat patterns that I should have buried in the past. Drugs and alcohol again became the friends in whom I would endlessly confide, as I repressed my emotions further, refusing to swallow my petulant, precocious pride. Nonetheless my heart thawed out, no longer Arctic icy anymore, as you helped me set fire to my fears, quickly becoming all that I could adore. I naively confused you for the cure to the cancer that ate away at my confidence, saw you as the solution which resulted in my sad dependence. Now that I have grown, and see that we were never suited for each others' tainted thrones, I harbour no hostility, and attempt to end my callous desire to clone the scent of your cologne. It really is better to have loved and lost, and similarly more preferable to have fought the war and paid the costs, than to never have loved at all. I am thankful that I did not remain oblivious and know what it feels like to have someone attempt to tear down my many walls. Even though there is still shrapnel buried in my bruised and bandaged heart, I would do it all again, just to hear your references to Descartes. With wounded wings this war has broken down my door, if all is fair in love and hate, why are you still impossible for me to abhor?

Red Riding Hood.

It is time to wake up and accept responsibility for your life, high time that you stopped pointing the finger and picked up a knife. Cut away all the vines that delude your judgment, and clear out the fog that conceals the truth from your eyes. Self-righteousness has always been the cause of your detriment, confess to your sins, or drown further in your endless lies. You are the difference between a boy and a man, as you manipulate reality to benefit your conspiratorial plans. You are always prepared to offer unsolicited advice, although you react with ire when others resort to the same device. Avoidance, your greatest clause, should have been listed on your contract when I signed up, instead I was forced to tolerate the passive aggressiveness that would fill, and thus overflow within my cup. Your ignorance once redeemed you, as it seemed like innocence instead, until I realized it was all a game, and that you were playing the fool, as if your brain was dead. You always refused to reap what you sow, placing it upon another's back as if it were their burden, go ahead and take your bow, the show is over, watch out here comes the curtain. You still compete with me to this very day, assuming that you will somehow come up the better man, although you may look better on paper, you are merely the Montreal to my Cannes. Drink freely of me, as you always do, knowing that I can handle it all; keep providing others with false security, sycophantically, but do not be alarmed when they are not available when you fall. I can only wish you the best in future endeavours and hope, and pray that I can wash my hands clean of you for good; you were the treacherous wolf that attempted to outwit, outsmart, and outplay my knowing, effervescent Red Riding Hood.

Shipwrecked.

Ice cold isolated inferences ignored by both me and you, resulted in the resignation of our hearts, as they split, and cut in two. Separated now, we are forced to accept our own unique worlds. Yours is filled with wonder, while mine keeps failing to deliver pearls. My lonely kick start heart keeps waiting for someone to come and take it by the hand, to pull it through the darkness, and to lay with it in the sand. With my future still unplanned, I continuously seek out others to turn it around, as I lose my footing, nearly tumble, slip, and falter, hoping that another will bring me back to solid ground. Anchoring my ship to prevent me from sailing out into the middle of the sea, I incorrectly assume that happy is a state of mind that does not exist independently inside of me. Without you, my heart is colder than the Arctic where it may as well have been conceived, but with you, it refuses to thaw, remains as cold, and is still ill-received. Bereaved, I prostrate to the Heavens, asking why each boat I ride in gets wrecked and washed ashore, why they always seem to hit invisible icebergs, and sink to the very bottom of the ocean floor. Titanic ailing orifice that pours my emotions out and unto you, it becomes no secret why I always end up alone, and rather subdued. Wilting wailing flower that I become each time I pick myself up and fail again, makes me wonder if the fight is not worth the fall, and if all this sacrifice is just in vain. All of the rivers, lakes, and seas have tried to tame the wild that occurs naturally within me, hedonistic until the last drop, I laugh harder, and turn it all into a game. Yet I still try to call all the shots, and desire to keep you around whenever I yearn for the warmth provided by your body and its flame. Passion seeps through my pores, poking at me until my vessel overflows. All I ask is for you to rescue me from my eternal suffering, and the violence of its throes. Pleading for the soothing rain to come another day when I am more prepared, I know the universe has a sense of humour as it would rather see me in despair. Alone, but never lonely, I need to wait until the opportunity comes knocking once again. Until then, I will remain focused, and devoted to maintaining a healthy relationship with myself, and becoming my own best friend. No mater watery graves, or drowning deaths, they are now ghosts of my torrid past, the tempests, and tsunamis of temptation, and truth will hopefully be best if saved for last.

Black.

The black torrents wash within me and I watch my light darken, I have used up so much energy in the fight that I have no resistance. I can see waves of black cascading through me in streams. I can see pools of darkness forming as my thoughts circle inside my head, my worries they are storming and desire to fill me with the utmost dread. The ebony's essence streamlines my dreams, sending me flying further into the deepest depths of the dark. My charcoal childhood was always less than chaste, as I searched high and low for a cure that would prevent my life from turning into toxic waste. No lights or sounds surround me, as I face my innermost demons and search for a friendly face, or nuance that will help ground me, and bring me closer back into myself. I can no longer live a life of knowing that I am merely settling for second best, so I cover my paintbrush in the whitest paint, ivory dances and sings as it tries to wash away the darkness that I have faced. My canvas is testament to the trials that I have endured, the whites that purify the black, and self-consciously create greys hoping to hide the error of my ways. I fail to connect to the human that lives inside me, pay no heed to the mind that the universe has granted me. I was meant to live for so much more, but I lost myself, time and time again. As I crawled through the shadows, all I searched for was a friend although I failed to realize that the love I sought lived inside me all along. I have always been better at offering others advice than taking it when I need it the most, as a result, I have become an apparition, I have become another jaded ghost. I call an ambulance after shooting a flare high into the sky, hoping that I no longer have to listen to misery's most sullen lullabies. It whistles wildly, and lets out the most piercing screams as it careens throughout the streets. Dead man walking, that I am, I give in to the darkness, and accept my grim defeat. Black, the colour of my heart after you cut off its circulation, broken,I am no longer open to happiness, I have become an empty vessel filled with nothing but degradation.

Ideal Love.

At times when I feel most lonesome, and bereft, I yearn to feel the touch, and the softness of my lover's sweet caress. Kind and considerate, never maligned by hostility or hate, the quality of love that brings to mind questions of destiny and fate. The purity of it which will cleanse every fibre, each pore, like holy water rains from Heaven that fall from the skies, and soothe my rocky shores. Passion so bright, it lights up my heart, and then my soul; just the thought of you on the dreariest days is often enough to make me feel whole. At whose feet shall I prostrate towards for bestowing me with such a love so true? Shall it be God, my eternal beloved in his entirety, or a combination of him and you? Love in its most idyllic form that conquers the world until it becomes the norm, the rarest variety that is enough to wash way the tears of children in countries that are ravaged and war torn. With petulant poignancy, my pen dances on paper to the beat of this love that has filled my world with sheer happiness, and the most magnificent bliss like manna from above. Cupid's arrows strike me, sedating me into the sweetest slumber, Venus and Aphrodite have vilified my people and caused my internal Berlin walls to crumble. This romance that unfolds, and unwraps itself in waves, crashes into me, shakes me awake, then reminds me that I am no longer sorrow's sullen slave. Liberated by lust, humbled by your hands, I slip through your fingers like sand, as you have shown me that even I have the propensity to be possessed by the potency of passion in this pedantic land. Promises made and kept prove to me that honesty, and truth can coexist with bountiful bliss; I am here, open and receptive, ready to fall further, and deeper ensnared, with just one simple kiss.

Judas.

Consciously creating chaos, you spread controversy every way you turn, as you twist the words of others, to manipulate the truth which you brutally burn. Self-righteously slaughtered, a martyr until the bitter end; not unlike Abraham, you sacrificed your honesty, in order to maintain your sycophantic, and fair weather friends. Hardly innocent, you were never a lamb, but better yet a wolf in sheep's attire, as you wickedly conspired against integrity in order to tread dangerous, darker waters, surrounded by raging rings of fire. You were the apple that led Eve astray, with your tempting tales so treacherous, although you ultimately led to her decay. Burning bush that betrayed others by behaving blessed in your first days, then claimed the lives of many innocents by parting the Red Sea, and burying them in watery graves. You flooded the world with your fickle fuckery, made it rain for forty days, and nights, until all the land was covered in acidic rain that you spewed from your rotten, little mouth and thorny lips that you pretentiously pursed so tight. Jealous Judas reincarnate, your lack of confidence was always transparent to me, as you claimed to be omnipotent, yet you had barely even mastered the art of magic or trickery. Covetous coward that you were, your bark was always bigger than your bite; just wait until the day that the insects that crawl under your skin multiply, and evolve from scabies into scarabs, and then termites. You audaciously acted entitled, daring to claim the lives of all the first born sons of those around you like a plague, conveniently taking what was never yours to begin with, then begging for the rights to brag. One day, hopefully soon, you will be forced to accept that your followers are decreasing at an alarming rate, as you sit and selfishly count the number of stolen goods that sit atop your plate. You said you could walk on water, and then turn it into wine, but instead you were just another liar, that felt entitled to waste nine months of your own mother's precious time. With a lack of a mind or any real intellect or insight whatsoever, you and Satan were one in the same, as you sat and engaged in a circle jerk, praising one another for being so cunning, and deceitfully clever. You are as disposable as the inhabitants of Sodom, with less dignity, or loyalty than the dogs that filled Babylonian slums. Wreaking havoc now, just await until you feel the wrath of my holy, then unholy vengeance, clueless is your company that refuses to accept that you demand that it remain codependent. Rest in pieces, not in peace, for the misery that you spread so freely to accompany your own, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven, for you are a piece of work much too far from worthy from ever sitting atop its throne.

Infidelity.

Crimson red bloodshed crimes against the love you claimed that you would feel until the day that you were dead. Body bag black as I have suffered my final heart attack at the lack of courtesy you showed as you twisted the knife that you had already driven into my burned back. Coffee stained teeth from hours of counseling, actively seeking the support of friends in the hopes that my bleeding heart would one day mend. Clear as the tide on a bright and crisp shiny morning, I see now what I refused to accept, the red flags, lipstick stains, and the ice cold warnings that caused our love to degenerate and then deflect. Insidiously injected you directly into my veins, when I should have instead rejected you, taken control of my life again and retrieved it by the reins. My melody unchained, my song echos throughout these empty halls, as I sit and berate myself gratuitously, this is your curtain call. Take a bow, you played at faithful so well, until your flesh began to fall away, and revealed that you were truly the gatekeeper, and I was in my own Hell. You kissed others and although I could tell, I chose to pull the veil further over my eyes, and continue hoping to be rescued in others' wishing wells. Suddenly sullen, you became more transparent than in days that had already come and gone, and all it took was a shake of my magic wand, which detached me from you emotionally, to ensure that you would no longer turn me on. Fade to black again, it's suddenly become so clear. You were the reason, the voice in my head that would never silence nor disappear. Green with envy now, as you see me carelessly sailing among the rest. I will never assimilate or merely fit in, but I will always stand out in any crowd for you; no longer jaded by your jest, bitterness subdued, I am still better than the best.