Destruction

Insomnia strangles as it deceives me with false promises of sleep; it closes in and comes in for the kill, painfully sadistic, but always a thrill. I lie awake at night, innocently questioning the path of my life. Will it be one of wonder and love, or contrarily one of heartache and strife? I analyze every aspect as I am nestled awake, shaken to my core, and left yearning for retribution for the love that you would take. I asked the moon to reveal to me, all of our love's discrepancies. As if I was much to blind to agree that I was merely entranced by your perfumed potpourri. She pressed her face to mine and said, "Love too, goes stale, as it is not like wine but more like bread." I sat and contemplated her wise and profound advice, praying for a way to once again entice. But instead, I sit and write, hoping to earn some solace from these dark and lonely nights. Your betrayal still stings like a wound that refuses to close. Try as I may, I am still haunted by my own ghosts. I adored you with the fervour of an innocent child, yet you ignored my attempts, making me feel feral and wild. I was raised amongst Gods, given the utmost respect, until you pierced my skin and proceeded to infect. I have become toxic, your own personal Chernobyl; I have become so ignoble, as I sit isolated and absentmindedly reflect. I am a wasteland, barren and bare, devoid of life as you sold all my wares. Pillaged my village, and left me for dead; played with my heart as if it were on a thread. You used me to test your weapons of mass destruction, as I dejectedly waited for your next round of nuclear testing. You are Bush and I am your Iran, you poisoned my land as you did in Japan. I long to be free and fly away home, yearn to be asleep in this empty tomb. I am but a prisoner in this often solitary world; always an oyster, covetous of the pearl.

Poison

Our version of love had become such a dispute, push turned to shove as I became increasingly mute. I refused to wear the scarlet letter of love lost, so instead I would push you away and endlessly accost. You showed no emotion, your face was a blank slate, with reckless abandon, I continued to eat from your plate, all the while questioning whether it was all a mistake. I cried and I begged for you to grant me release, as I sat in your prison plotting ways to capture the keys. I pleaded for the remnants of my life that you viciously held within your hand; what would it have been like if I had never entered your dark and dreary land? You were vile and contrite as you denied me my rights, writing my fate with your pen as I pathetically transformed into the thorns of a rose with my pitiful, and depressing prose. I was your prisoner for far too long, as you shattered my lungs and silenced my song. At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. It relieves me of my loneliness, like a fine vintage wine. It is the only solace I receive in the walls of this asylum that offers me no reprieve. With no end in sight, I count my blessings and say my prayers, tuck myself in knowing that these fights will be the cause of my eternal despair. I turn off the lights and no longer resist the eternal slumber that has been closing in, I am finally at peace as I serenely sleep. You were the lethal injection into my veins, the cause for my strife and the reason for my pain. You were the jagged knife that robbed me of my life, the tormentor of my soul and the crooked piece that would never make my puzzle whole.

Spendthrift

You always seem to want to place a price tag on our love, as if money is comparable to this gift from up above. Although I may not be made of riches, or have enough to buy you gold. I can assure you that I will never fail to be there when you need someone to hold. They say that the best things in life are free, yet for some reason you selfishly make me feel like I am running on empty. I cannot offer you caviar, or trinkets from afar; but I can look into your eyes at night and feel like I am gazing into the stars. I have tried for so long to show you that I value none of this, tried to explain to you that I am happiest when we kiss. Your embrace is worth its weight in diamonds and pearls, the moments that we share alone make me feel like I am on top of the world. I appreciate all that you have given me that cost you hard earned dollars and cents, but I cherish little sentiments more than the money that you have spent. I am a sheep in wolf's clothing, disguised by my own flaws. I am a simpleton at most, refusing to conform to societal laws. I am less superficial than I make myself out to be, yet somehow this escapes you as you recount how much you have dwindled on me. When we cuddle late at night or see all the pretty sights, I can guarantee that I feel like the bourgeoisie. I do not need you to work hours to buy my happiness; as you already have my love, why is it so difficult to digest? My love is as priceless as the simple memories that we share, my bounty is as endless as an eternal affair. Hopefully in time you will be able to accept, this concept that confuses you and often leaves me upset. I know that money does not grow on trees and that it can be hard to come by, but I would rather spend a fortnight just staring at your smile. Roses, chocolates and valentines will never be declined, but the gesture is more appreciated and so is the time. I pray that one day you see, as my soul is crying out, that I have loved you from the start as I am your soul mate without a doubt.

Guillotine

I thought that I was invincible in my superhero's garb. I donned my cape and costume only to be disarmed. You were my Waterloo and I was forced to taste defeat. It tasted bitter on my tongue, similar to the most unhygienic street meat. I continued on a road I knew I never should have taken, hoping that one day my pride would die and I would be awakened. But instead, I've been forsaken. I refused to lose and as a result I lost it all. I never would have imagined that love could make me feel so small. I was shaken to my core, it tore my heart apart like lightning. You were the thunderbolt that made love become so frightening. Reclusive and paranoid, my future you have destroyed. I had all the potential in the world, I could have gone so far. I traded it all to be with you, and now I am afraid to dare to reach for the stars. I was once so confident, majestic in my own right. Despondence is my new name, as I have lost all will to fight. This charade has turned into such a facade, like the crises in the Middle East I can hear the sirens in my own personal Riyadh. No God could save me now, as I am in much too deep. At night, I lay down my head and silently weep. I cry for injustice, and the cross that I must bear. I sob indulgently as I wring my hands in sheer despair. You have made it your goal to wreak havoc on my soul, as I have been left, bereft and required to reap the evil that you sow. Sorrow has written its name upon my heart, as I passively accept it and allow you to resume your farce. I regret that we met, on a night so pristine; you were my executioner as I placed my head so trustingly into your guillotine.