Wait and See

Lick the wound again and again,
Let it out and spit the rights to the air,
Let me see your long lost friend,
Let me see just how long I can stare.

Living On Valuable Essences

Through hearts filled with dim hope:
I saw it in the eye of the storm,
Rising above, crying in pain,
I saw it mingle amidst the wrong,
In it, bathing, for so long.

I was caught, every rope lusting within.
Tighter, now loosen up,
Just for a second.

We stood and seared the wind.
Jumping across highwires,
And sneaking behind shadows.

Every heartbeat was vague,
Every kiss a reminder,
Of our sweet little madness.

And your hair felt right.
So I swam across your familiar perfume.
Your eyes screamed.
So I dived into your darkened lake.
Your tears fell.
So I drank every single drop.

Feeling your heartbeat soar,
Dampening thunders in the distance.
A blinding lightning in our eyes.

And it's not the fire,
Not the sweat,
Not the sweet little nothings
I want to whisper in your ear.

It's you.

Flames

You are my choice.
And now I hate you.
I knew what it meant,
Really? I thought I did. I guess.
And now its black surface rinses out the truth,
Condensing in my sweaty, cold skin.
A sad realization in another dim lit alley.
Its light plastered through a million different windows.
The path was my subway, a line within lines.

I want you to burn.
I read, I better.
I don't, I worsen.
I need to and I should. I would I could I.
The rubbery feel of if and if and if,
Smells like ripe fruits. Ripe and rotten with foresight.
Burn.
Burn.
Ashes to ashes.
Burn,
Warm my mind.

Proxies

I need to stop living by proxy.
I need to take a step outside,
To stop the recordings, the entropy.
See past the broken, mended melody.
And from its ticking clock witness,
My fleeting birth.
Waiting for my due rebirth.

And there was my mistake.

Eyes, closed

Never saw it coming, did you?
In its awkward, embarrassing inevitability.
Its cloak of shame slowly embracing,
Like a bittersweet reminder of your inability.
Too much, too often, too soon and for too long.

Trading tact for thought
Moist for sight
Kisses for their lot.

And now everything is yours to witness.
The endless variety, at you feet.
Dim lit? Color? Close your eyes and let it.
Volumetrics, situational flare. There.
Action, number, size. It is your prize.
Volatile variations, length and language. It's all theirs, health.
Erasing the sickness within? Whispiring its certainty?
Block away the truth, in lie laced cells.
It's not enough. It hurts too much, for it is too little.
But now, there's no stop sign ahead.
Though undeserving as it may be.
Though more suitable a punishment could never be found.
Though it condensed much more than what your sins demanded.
So much more.

Imagine it, have it,
As a pacing, lukewarm feather, wet and still,
Tickling every pore, every shallow orifice.

Soap settled, saved and sanctified.
Sacrificed solely for someone's scent.
So, lay the sacred saviour, see it sinking in your silky skin,
Dreaming of another, of anyone,
Because the images are no longer enough.
Because now,
It truly tickles away,
As you look in rushing anxiety,
To find it's merely your own, foreign blood, rushing back in.

Remember, you hands already hold the key.
Broken as it may be.

Taping the cords

I taped the cords together. I tried hard.
But I just couldn't get into it.
I don't see the point. I don't see the end.
I don't see its hidden significance.
And fuck you, no,
I will not open my eyes.

I saw the cords falling apart, riping away layer after layer.
I saw the tape falling, to sounds and hints of lies.
Their ingrained weakness, corroding it all.

I've had enough of the smell.
Never close enough to taste.
The vivid colours I couldn't touch.
That I always failed to touch,
In my exhausted attempts.
Tired of those voices, that never moaned for me.
That never screamed my name.
That never ripped it apart from their lungs.

There's the man who lived quietly,
In quiet whispers he waited for a solution.
He dreamt of an answer, quietly falling asleep.
And just as he saw it, it was his, he could have sworn,
But, instants apart, he died, right before he was born.
And you,
Who are you?

Sphere

And so, right now, everyone has a word in.
The standard erect, for all to witness.
An opinion of sorts, a quiet whisper of thoughts.
A blunt rambling of ideas,
Bathing in the cheerful agony of views.

The background noise, the life, so loud,
It taints anything in between,
Everything we have ever seen.
You know how it feels like, how it passes through.
The touch of the untouchables, the expendable and priceless treasures.
Each a relic in itself. Flaying each other, everyday.
For the formal, the statistical fortress of they.
How you, and yes, how we strike in every letter,
Every single useless word. Spiraling phrases.
Every day, in sake of void immortality.
Bury your head in the finite, disguised infinite, and forget about the end.
The inkless reminder of concepts, overseeing shadows.
Blind specters of humanity.
The idiot's dream, forged in the man's speech.
Endlessly multiplying, as the servers are crying.

The soft impression left by the grain of sand.
A throwster, spinning away the vacant space.
Washed ashore, wet and scarred with the crowd,
When everyone looks the same, you try the impact of yourself.
Look around. And see it mirrored in them.
See it reflected, in perfect resonance.
And with it, see the true colour and shape of what lies ahead.
And don't look for clues. They've already fled.

Know sleep won't come.
Open wide, let it sink in.
Sorry, for your skin's still the same,
I am sorry, but I doubt it'll ease the pain.