Rest in Pieces

Rage washes over me as I become more aware of all the ways in which your pathetic indolence filled my life with sheer despair. Torn into pieces, I adorned myself with scorn and began to contemplate ways to make you wish you had never been born. I will poke and prod at you with my demonic pitchfork, until your walls fall down like mass destruction in New York. The audacity you had to lecture me as you remained, in your glass house so picture perfect, yet full of disdain, was enough to infuriate me further, like the bulls in Spain. I see nothing but red hoping to shed, the blood that you owe me for the years you stole from me. I could instead be the better person and pick up and resume, but the violence within me seethes, threatening to consume me whole. Like those imprisoned without parole, you were the weakest link within my chain so I had to set you free, until it became apparent that you were pathetically dependent on me. You claimed that you were stronger and that you had rose above, but all you ever wanted was to be in love. I have my friends, family and confidence to spare, while you just have your money, permanently aware that nobody else is there. Fill your voids with selfishness and greed, until you realize that you were misled by your definition of what it means to truly succeed. Eat up my security and drink deeply of my self-esteem, I paid the cost already and now refuse to remain within your pathetic and lonely regime. Impossible is now possible without you breathing down my neck, step to the side and reflect on all the ways your own ego led to your train wreck. Like a princess toiling endlessly to spin straw into gold, the way you coveted material things endlessly is what resulted in your face that looks so old. This is not about you being way too short for me, but instead it has more to do with all the ways you made me unhappy. I could count them on my fingers but I do not have enough to spare, to compile lists of all the ways you made me choke on your arrogant air. Devoid of flair, your future bursts into flames as you realize with further clarity that it was always you my eyes despised. You might think that you are a prize, but the kind the recipient would always try to give away, as you poisoned me with your stupidity and yet, you still somehow expected me to stay. I am over, done and through as I allow my newfound strength to process and think it might seem too good to be true. A world, a life, a story without you would take away the pain and wash away the blues. Your emptiness was the death of me, but I have been reborn; revived by my own desire to stay alive, no longer around to remain enslaved by your treacherous thorns. You lied and made it same like you were relatively sane, yet all you wanted from me was to listen to you endlessly, as you insufferably complained. I am over and done, as I walk away from your insipid smoking gun; the echo of the shots that killed the sheriff still remain, purifying me as I slip away from you, and ultimately, everything mundane. You were the cancer that ravaged my brain and the poison that lingered throughout my veins; the hatred that consumes me desperately, hungry like the poor, and you were the final frontier of my attraction to all things immature. Rest in pieces.

Confusion

The chaos of confusion creates conflict within my mind, as I crawl through the dark searching for a cure to the cancer that has left me blind. Through dimly lit eyes, the uncertainty of us magnifies, blurring the lines between the truth and then the lies. I cannot breathe, nor can I eat although I am starved for clarity, yet full from deceit. I attempt to live in the moment and take each day in stride, but the very thought of us makes me want to run away and hide. There used to be a time when it always rang true, that you were the answer, and I was the clue. Since then it seems, I have been living through a dream, carelessly coursing through the world hoping to find a conscious stream. The promises we made were unjust and impossible to keep, and despite it all, we still failed to look before we leaped. You were the ink that helped me write my prose, even though I pricked your lips like a kiss from a wretched rose. The canvas of my life bleeds with devastating anarchy, manipulating my senses as it infects my potpourri. My insides ravaged like cities torn apart by storms, as I try to maintain my creativity in respect to our art form. I am self aware as I know exactly what I need to do in theory, but in practice my heart cowers in fear, assuming the worst and that the future will only be dreary. I could risk it all to be with you again, if only the spark would return accompanied by enlightenment and zen. I can no longer remain a slave to the doubt that wracks my brain, feeding on it as freely as an alcoholic indulges in champagne. To leave and separate from you would mean starting anew, whilst disregarding the love that we have managed to accrue. I have suffered enough and paid my dues for the crimes committed by me and by you. I painted a new world with stars that shone so brightly as a substitute for the past that evolved into something haunting and unsightly. I erased my mistakes, corrected them too in the hopes that one day I would feel adequate to you. Stability steered our ship that sank in shallow waters, as we proved to be much too unstable to survive, I was the sheep that you were forced to slaughter. You reloaded your gun and prepared to shoot the bullet that would end my life, as I took my last breath and muttered a prayer, relieved that I had lived to see the end to all our strife. The never ending white light at the end of my tunnel calls to me as I dance closer with childlike curiosity, I will remain with you in spirit and in heart, you are forgiven for your discrepancies, as I harbour no animosity. Confusion no longer knocks at my door taking with it the clouds that filled my coffee, I can see clearly now that you were the song that was meant to kill me softly. Our flowers grew in concrete left unnourished in the sun, there is no turning back now, the damage we did can never be undone. A prelude to our demise, we disguised the way we felt inside, only to feign surprise once it was time to say our final goodbyes. Failure washes over me, renewing my spirit as I accept that I have lost; I paid the cost of losing you, as I bask in the heat for the last time and allow my cold heart to defrost. Disengaged, as I worked through the pain, assuming responsibility for my misdoings as I did the right thing and accepted the blame. It's not too late for fate to take the reins, I was destined for greatness, and not the mundane. Silence soothes my skin as I smile for the first time in years, as I have learned my most valuable lesson to date and see that not everything is as enchanting as it necessarily appears.

Euphoria

Once upon a time your love made me feel the most sublime, you added spice to my life, just like cinnamon and thyme. Your kiss was the conviction and the cause of our carnal crimes, and yet the passion still dried out like dust defiled grime. And somehow I still believe in your kind eyes as I stare to the skies and pray for a reprise. Like a derailed train, our future flew off the tracks, waiting in vain, I hope we can collaborate and bring our love back. Disenchanted as I no longer see through a rose coloured view, communication was the dragon that we failed to slew. My strength was not enough to remove the sword from your heart, and as a result we were forced to interrupt our story as we slowly grew apart. I take comfort in wishing on stars with childlike innocence wondering where you are, hopeful that you will return and be the lighter to my cigar. With each inhale, I will breathe you in, letting you soak into my skin; my lungs will fill with your nicotine, as I become reacquainted with the effect of your caffeine. You surrounded my castle and tore down my walls just like in a fairy tale, as happiness resonated throughout me, you were my nightingale. Your songs would soothe my soul like the ocean's waves, intoxicating me deeper with each whispered word, I used to be so brave. Independent once, I somehow began to rely on you with faith so blind, my vision has since cleared and I now realize that I was carelessly confined. Imprisoned of my own volition as I solely defined myself as your maleficent mate, I grieved for the loss of my identity and filled my world with hate. Anger consumed me wholeheartedly increasing with each new day, inciting me further as I saw my world for what it was and deplored its disarray. My cuts and battle scars are much deeper than they seemed, as I foolishly failed to see that this was a far cry from a dream. Disinfected now, I can finally breathe; wait for my name in lights until you decide that it is time to seethe. Our picture perfect romance was soiled by your crimson kiss, your wicked world will never be the same once you begin to reminisce. I have pricked my finger for the last time on love's lascivious loom, then prepared for an eternity of slumber with flashes of gloom. The universe wistfully weeps for what the future had in store for you and I, as the sun sets sleepily in Shanghai. The euphoria we once shared disappeared into the night, revealing to me that only true love's kiss could have helped me reach new heights. Over now, I pick up the pieces of our puzzle left undone, our epic chronicle ended before it had even begun.

Love is Pain

Legendary lilac love's lullabies lament lasciviously lacerating lessons learned long ago, lackadaisical lack of depth laboriously led to the loss of ladylove.

Overzealous omnipotence obscures others' options of overcoming odds, your obese objectification once obligable obliterated our obsessions, occulting obsoleteness.

Vindictively vindicating vapid venom vehemently veered via voluptuous vengefulness, vaguely vaccinating villains and heroes like the Valkyrie.

Eager endeavours earnestly entertained, eternally everlasting evil exuded externally erasing excitement exponentially everyday.

Ignorance induced into increasingly ignominious incompetence instead of idealistic inheritances, in your eyes iodine irrigated irreverently invoking the invited invisibility of me.

Sensually slaking stupor's selfish self-concerning scandals, storybook enchantment seductively slew your self-righteousness asunder.

Proprietary presumptions prevailed, proving petulant precociousness preyed upon your Palestine, painfully prescribing poison that was prone to parliamentarian partiality.

Arrogance always achingly altered your autonomy, angering angels and archenemies alike, auburn austere artistry assumed your aura would achieve applause, and not abomination ad nauseum.

Imagination involuntarily improved interpersonal interactions, ignoring irreconcilable differences in identities; irrationality increased irritability until it was intertwined with indifference.

Negligence narcoleptic nuances needlessly non-fulfilled the necessities of nostalgic nations and their naivety, never again will I allow nonentities to narcissistically nurture my Narnia's noble narrative.