Grabbing it all by the hair,

Suspending your belief that it could even happen in the first place.

Ah, a beautiful explanation is due, isn't it?

I'm afraid there's none.

It's your fault.

The king in black has returned

Consumed by the flame that once sustained him

Abandoned his station to buy the last few moments of respite


Now, is he even alive at all?


The king never calls for aid.

And he dies, consumed by the flames of pride.

**** this*

For the next chump, the next line of idiots after me.

I hope you don't tear your hair out with her.
I hope you don't mind the mess she makes when you think everything is tidy.
I know you will, definitely attempt to change things around for her.
I know you will, definitely sigh in frustration as your efforts all go to waste.
I hope time will be kind to your psyche.
I hope time will be lenient with you.

I daresay this will be your greatest challenge, perhaps conquest or muse yet.
I daresay it's like a hotline you want to make several calls to.
Take it from me. The previous guy.

His obsession with the pursuit of her

Enough to give one


Pause.


He had built concrete, rods made of rust,
A tower,


So he might be able to peer over the walls she had built.


kissed his scars opened new wounds


A maddening pursuit, he was told.
It couldn't be that the door was closed before it ever was opened.

Could it be?

you think too much.

It's always the eyes that get me.

For a walking black hole of emotion,

I sure keep swirling back to them.

When it's all said and done with,

I've become one of the unthinking majority.

The bones ache again.

Can't seem to dislodge this knife in between my spine, either.

It was always about the next woman.
The next thrill, chase, fire.
No excuses no repentance
Like a wide mouth open devouring everything in the path

The hunger was different, difficult and demeaning.

I'm just a boy playing at being a man
For all the **** it did me.

What I mean what I want what I've been searching for
I found it, or rather it found me.
No one can run from it forever.
Nobody can.

My heart beats for the thrill of the hunt
The adrenaline rush
Palpitations of the skin sliding into the next one's collarbones.

Play with fire and you get burnt.
Become fire itself and watch yourself become an eternal witness to the world burning down around you.

I don't breathe the same anymore.

In peace, feel the rhythms cascade.
In war, fan the flames of passion.


We're not the same anymore
We're not young
We're sinners through and through
Why parley with the Line when you could **** up the Borders?

atrast nal tunsha
i will never find my way in the dark

Scent of weak oranges flows through the air

Coupled with bitter lavender

Out of use sour ashtongue as it tumbles


Orange flows through the glass


Posted with the lack of words


*hey, i miss you

The eighth in a long line of failures,

Luring all he could use to build his empire of rust.

Lusting after impossible trajectories,

Trachea wheezing in sorrow,

Rowing down the empire of rust.

The shears I borrowed from you were rusty, I told you about them before.

The sheer dumbfounded look on my face when you told me I could keep it,
rust and all.

Only Schweer's sorrow was left, when Schwerte's last few denizens came to bid their farewells to you, the spinster with her shears.

Love doesn't work like how it does in the movies.


Imagine all the red wine spilt.


And all the sleeping pills taken.


Sepia turns to gray-scale.

Love, a most bitter pill.

Deaden my nerves please.
Hold me so tight I cease to breathe.
Let the burn encompass my being.

Kiss me,
Kiss me again.

Love me,
Love me again.


Love me so hard
I cease to exist

He rises
And he takes control of one last joy spreading through my cooling corpse.

Let us be whoever we want to be.

If only to extend this wick which we keep burning through.

Fleeting, dragging me along like
Undertow, no one else knows, yet
Clearly, it's just wishful thinking.
Kings would be thankful for clarity.

The intimacy of the memory leaves me shaking with its lack of mercy.

The intricacies of her theory leaves me hungering for delicacies she might have offered.

The original sin was that pride left me a long time before I realised I hungered for only one concept : constant change.

A heavy heart, but a constant weeping, until the day either of us turns back.

Will you?

Something so much more simpler than anything else - void of thought, void of want - just the two of us

He wandered into her store,

Saunters past while being aloof,

She notices him, unsure but curious,

She fixated on him, as the music grew louder between them.

C'est la vie.

"You just wanted to hear me scream, didn't you?"

chuckle
Darling, it's been so long since I heard you moan.

I'll just settle for your screams.

You'd guessed right : we grew cold the longer we weren't in touch.

Our skin's set ablaze, childishly believing we were destined.


Who would've known, the difference between lust and love?


A gnawing ache either way.

A continuous wave of motion into the gloominess of tomorrow.

The layers stripped away, nostalgia be ******.

When we reach the end of this road, in the knowledge we've done all we could.

And I'll know the love unspoken, the fair queen unabashed, naked truth spilling out.


Hoist my shield up high, as I soar to your side once more.

The hunger grows.

Patience stretches off into the horizon.

A king can rule alone, if needed.

He'll wait til the fair queen sits by his side once more.

Now, do I have your attention or should I fuel your apprehension?

You should stop looking too much into what you dream.
They're more akin to a waking nightmare.

Their skin. Their waists. Their movements.

Intoxicating, aren't they?

Now that you've come up to breathe.

Now that you're on dry ground again.

You are not Icarus.

And they are not the Sun.

You know what you felt.

A great amount of suppression of lust.

But the fire, oh the fire.

Rouse yourself.

Douse the flames.

A soft silky smooth thread falls into your hands again.

Let it go.

We're one with the flame
And we burn with the flame
Til we contract the blame.

How much farther down the rabbit hole?

How far before the taste becomes bland?

How much more of myself do I have to give?

This is a prompt of peace.

This is a concession of cliches.

I have hungered beyond my ken.



I am killing every piece of me that's ever lived, so I might remain humble.

But this hunger will never be sated.

"The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self."


Swept the dusty floor with the steps you taught me, one and half step forward and back.


The sensations caress skin no longer there to feel it, having flaked off time and time ago again.


Where did the time go, if not here?

Where did the sand go, if the tears in your eye weren't caused by it?


We've always been alone.


You made living life a little better.


Goodnight, Lord Janus.

Your presence heralded new beginnings.

And we left the same way we met.

Uncertainties cloud judgment
Eccentricities pierce better reasoning
By the time the colours fall

You will know why the thin line holds us so.

Both liberating and excruciating. The candle wick burns down til it's nothing ; it proceeds to extinguish itself.

Such is the natural order of things : the only constant is time.

what we feel for the time passed
how we think for the lives past
we loved. and that's all we can do.


This fresh coat of paint is cracking up faster than how I thought it would be.

Her fingers form a prong pushing away an invisible form, thrusting and gyrating in rhythm, the tune I recall now to be hers.
A mix between a cheer, a call to arms, so easy for the tongue to clasp it, yet the heart is made wanting even more.
Her legs sweeping in a semi-circle, lifting the day's burdens away in elegance, in effortless effort.
I stand there, a ******, marveling more than I could ogle.
I found myself treading water, driven to her flame as a moth.
Her joints twisted and fueling the air around her, like trails that seemed to go on forever.

It's wrong. Flowers weren't meant to be picked. Beautiful things wither around me. I'm no good stay away as the moon envelopes her whole.

I can't do this. I want to.
But how is decrepitation in fashion nowadays? Her precipitation filled me with hope, that somehow, I wasn't wrong for this.

you'll always be a better dancer than me.

And then she asked,

Since when did you become such a liar?


I threw my head back, sighing in relief.


Ever since I knew what I had in my hands.


Your heart.

Now all the songs speak of your scratched out mosaic.

The crawling of memories bleeding out into the next pool of tears I create.


It feels like dying, just a hundred times more worse.


I have issues.

You issued my execution warrant by the end of our red strings.

Funny. I don't remember trafficking any drugs.

Unless the drug was the feeling of emasculation, disorientation, disrespect, sordid throwing of caution to the wind.

Then yes.

It's a marsh of filth you made me crawl in.

And you know I would do it all again in a heartbeat.


You're pointless.

I watched his eyes flare up like the life of a dozen young children were reflected in them.

I watched his gait change, and cycling through emotions he started to dance.

His shoulders drooped as mouth began to sag, and eyes glistened over with tears bridled.


He is my friend.


And I write this for him.

We're running out of skin to cover the brittle fingers, the metal clanging underneath the flesh.


he runs his fingers across her face one last time
she breathes out
it is the sweetest thing he has ever tasted


We're looking into the root cause of the dying emotions, our hearts speaking louder than questions and patterns.


the solid clanging echoing ever so empty in his head
she took what was hers
bring him along
please


We're holding up our hands in surrender, our tears streaming down our faces to get closer to the flame.


the empty space beside him
a quiet day within his mind
the disquiet like empty nights again
she left behind the rain
walking away with his last sunshine

Here's to mourning the things we never lost
Here's to dying over a cause you don't believe in


Here's to beating yourself up for things that were already preordained


Here's to sorrow.


It's the unique taste on your tongue and mind,
It's the feeling you never had,
It's the tune you never heard.

For it doesn't exist.

The one who observes, the one who rules.

The one who dominates, the one who conquers.

The one who pushes forward, the one who never lost.

The one who lingered, the one who planned.

The one who led revolutions, the one who extinguished strife.

The one who paused, the one who waited for his time.


And he lived.
Oh, above all he lived.

Bitter pill
Swallowed down
Like a cuckold
But an accidental one
**** dude
You were right
Men like me exist to be used
Heh
No wonder the disdain.
The gut never lies.

The same old lie.
Choking down with ice cold water
Like a game
But one with scalding oil
**** man
Should've listened to you
Heh
Bring it back down
Back into the eye of the hurricane.

I wish things could've been easier.
It seems I used up all my shooting star wishes, wishbones and eyelash wishes.


Wishful thinking, wishy washy hopes that somehow without saying a word or muttering a wish everyone would be alright.

I used my prayer for you.
If it wasn't my time to be in your life again, bells would chime and I'd walk away.


But enough talk.

Swish you go.

Obsession, terrible by itself.
What would make you think I would want any of this?

Just recall, I've never liked your shticks.
Recall, who I came to you as.


One thing still bothers me.
One thing still annoys me.

If feeling this way is good,
Like how you said.



Why do I feel so miserable?

Onenitis struck me like the lightning bolt that blew up in my face, like thunder that followed.

You should know, by now.

Underneath the skin, well.
We were all made for some people.

And some of us, for only one in the end.

Your expression is all the taste I need.

With the orange gumdew drops on my tongue

Crackling firecrackers on the sinew

All drugged up with euphoria

Expectation to shove you off after I'm done with you.

Caressing your cheek til the morrow

Til yellow corona peeks over the flat body of water


Watch you turn and leave

Feel the pit of my stomach churn but lips clamped shut with how I feel

like yellow dandelions bursting to soar away forever.

Recognising the signs of attachment in him,

Jim bought out his handy dandy notebook.

Noting down the signs, taking inspiration from it but shaking on his feet, the feelings were too intense.

Pretense was, he wouldn't get involved at all. That he'd walk away unscathed, that he'd be able to laugh about it while bragging about the good times.


Time and again, he had been shown.
There was no laughing about this.

You walk into lives, clenched fists
You stray into lives, clenched fists

She tells him her story
He tells her his tale

We wander into souls, open-shut eyes.
We float into souls, closed-circuit minds.

A glass offered to ghosts
A dreamy interlude

They left us, with bleeding hands.
Left you, with broken bones that will never heal.

Her perfect circle.
His vicious cycle.

Soft juicy tender lips slide apart for the racking of the meat slab in the cavern of the beast moist and juicy it slides into it and ends up giving up its life essence for majestic theatres that blare into the silent ticks between the clock.

This is what I get.

For holding onto an empty space, with my fingers outstretched to hold something I thought was there.

but it wasn't.


The hot asphalt searing, killing all of my nerves and screaming of how foolish I was.


Oh, that's what I get.


Loving so hard I forgot how it felt to hate myself.

Neurotic ******
Malevolent malice

Why it's come as a surprise?
To think that I was so naive,
Maybe it didn't mean that much,
But it meant everything to me.

The girl who printed my heart out on paper, you have my heart.


Your eyes kept scouring for me, yet I remained deliberate aloof : I was tugging on your strings just as hard as your eyes bore holes in my back.


But hey, the black noise covering us was all we needed to look at each other.


That was the closest I've ever come feeling like me : feeling like the boy who once cherished moments like that.


And oh boy, she wants me dead.

Asked if we could become friends, but after the flurry that happened in front of her eyes, answer was no.

No.
No.


Chuckle


It's all a game to me.
Even though she slips away from my fingers, I live for the moment.

"Until you became the air in my lungs, the symphony between our steps,
The echoes of your voice in my ears,
The soft embrace of night over day.
You have become, second nature."

"Before, I was one. Now I am less than one, but so much more with you."

"It's like you're not letting me in."
Nonsense. You're projecting.

Perhaps you're right.
Of course I am.

But like a circle, these words come back to haunt me.
Yet like the ocean waves, my body came back to me.

You will forget.
I will forget.

When the time comes, our memories will fade, til spring blooms once more.

The only thing he's ever done,

Oh so tired of all the wrongs

A little more.

Every day.

Kept falling apart and.

Slipped away.

It's six a.m and I find myself thinking,
What would I ever do without you now?

The bones ache without your breath billowing down spine.

The heart cracks, heartbreak reaching out for the last bibliographies you recited.

I'll sleep with the lights on tonight.

I dare not face the gloom without you.

Hit me up for another shot, and another.

You're the pusher on this *****.

And you control me.

He shuffled and wiped specks from his eyes, peering into the distance, observing the blue eyes hidden behind melanin.

Picking up scrolls of knowledge unbound, dust devils rolling in his wake.

Drew the curtains open, spilling golden cloth unto his being, as he wrapped himself in the fading of the light.


Lightly brushing fingertips onto cobwebs long frayed, rot and decay spread, accelerating time and tense til only dust remained.

Dust and memories of a time where he too, once sat as an equal to a young lord, his visions guiding the actions of a fledgling nation.


Now, all remained slipped through his fingers.


He took strides to the door, taking no time to rip open the door that held him in exile.


The Seer In White had returned.

You.

I don't know what it is that I see in you.

Neither do I know how that this came to be.

These logistics demand that the evergreen status of my mind request the answer to it.

But as for me, I've decided.
I'll stop fighting.

I'll let these waves caress my skin.

I'll indulge myself in these feelings.

Maybe one day I'll wake up and realise it was but an illusion.

A dream.

An inception born from a desire to connect.

But then again.

From my desire, there was surrender.
From my gradual surrender, power.

I love you.

Even if my life should be snuffed out tomorrow,

For sanity's sake,

I cannot reach out to you anymore.


A stage where the state of best conditions, and good intentions brought ruin.

I'll use this pain, to create the world I always wanted.

Your ash, my embers.

My dark soul, your dying flame.

wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time:



Tracing the runes down your face
Memory serves me well, I did this before.

Inside yesterday again, tasting sepia.


Funny, it tastes like maple syrup.
Accompanied by Dutch syrup stripping
Randy layers of my mind away

Cryogenic tones take over
Ravaged by time itself
Yesterday will always be rosy

But today has tender roughness
Today has the King in Black attending to his Lady In Red
Tomorrow will have him repeat the same cycle again
Because yesterday will always be rosy


It's yesterday, and a funeral.
It's yesterday, and a broken promise.
It's yesterday, and a contract signed.

It's just yesterday.

Cold sweat running down the face

Mouth clenched in anticipation of the yawning pain


The open wound festering would've been preferable to the sealing, stitching of it.

Dour expression on my face as I make the choice

Because I know, I know I have to do this.


Til we meet again.