Your portrait decays the longer I observe it.

I don't think you deserve the vibrant colours you've been etched by.


Perplexed, perhaps these are my reservations speaking.

Awake, awaiting for your presence to bring a warm pulse shimmering in meaningful gazes.

It has been a long time since the fires flitted across my mind.

Has passion simmered down, or am I just ashes, waiting to be reborn?

My own words

Clawed fiery tantrums

Across my contents of the breast


Her very presence

Kissed icy trails

Deep into tissue


She was the very essence of void

Drying up all my fiery wounds

Desiccating me into dust.

And with the persistence of silence


I turn to the previous chapters


And relive them once more.

Sunsets over the horizon dip,
And you're just another person
Who will slip
Between my fingers
Like sap
In the cracks
of trees.
I too bleed,
The tears stain -
My own water,
Leaving me dessicant.
I have no vitality,
Just a shell, husk, of a man
While other happy faces surround me.

I'm s ******* scared
Of what tomorrow;
The next hour;
The next minute
Can bring.
I don't want to
Go through each day
With a constant fear and worry.
I'm not doing anything wrong
By living -
But I'm committing a crime
By existing.
I'm not good enough for you.
I can't keep myself together
Long enough
For us
To actually love each other.
I don't want to lose you
Before I've gotten the chance
To really enjoy you.

I'm already erasing myself
From you mental notes -
There was never anything
Notable about me anyways.

I'll carry on -
Just like you will too.
And eventually -
We both will be happy.

But,
Maybe you just won't be
Happy with me.

So, leave me
Like the soft breeze
On a hot
San Diego day.

I'll try to not miss you
As much as I miss the breeze.
But,
There are no guarantees -
Much less so,
Once you leave.

I hate my personality.
I don't have a personality
That cultivates relationships.
No,
My personality leads to anguish -
Insecurity.
If I could,
For once,
Harvest a bit of
Silence in my brain -
I'd love that.
I hate to feel anxiety;
Fear of abandonment;
Insecurity;
Obscurity;
I hate to feel what I feel.
What's worse,
I can't find elegant words
To describe it.
Leaving me mute,
People assume things about me,
Making my efforts moot.
Friends think I'm overbearing;
Demanding.
Romances think I don't trust them;
That I'm too controlling,
Insecure;
Dependent;
Too moody;
Too possessive.
My personality makes people leave me.
I'm too touchy -
Too hard to love or understand.
People see me,
And expect me to freak out,
Or to demand attention.
Well this is my account -
Because when you are on
The borderline,
It's easy to see
That the grass is greener
On either side -
But for others,
You seem polarized.
I'm not happy with how my brain works.
I don't want to be the way I am.
I don't want to make sure people are
Thinking about me...
And then feel guilty or angry when they don't,
Or can't.
I hate my personality.
I hate who I am.
It causes me to never feel comfort,
And my unrest has left me
An insomniac for too long.
Now,
I just want to rest.
But,
It's hard to sleep when you're alone
And afraid of the dark.

With once forgotten sensuality


I kiss you again.

I wish this cold warmth of assurance could've been shared.

I hoped that you would've come along, as whole as you were.


((As thick as this lead is, my genuinity was for it all.))


But now, as thin and fading my writing becomes

I've become similar, with soul truly bare

And heart, flushed with actual sunlight.

Neither one of us want to say goodbye

Now, I'll be looking you in the eye.


Narrow rivers of red trickle down my arm

Only tears stream down our faces, the knife digging deeper.


Oh, shrouded in grief we became.


Only a minute for us to breathe.


And time resumes, cloaked once again from perception.