Swirling deep in Polyjuice
drop the mask—my Veritaserum.
Drunk on your Amortentia,
You, a Draught of Living Death…
Veil off  the elixir of my life,
My love potion .

Before sleep I knot a cardboard tag
to my big toe with baling twine.
Sometimes I think of stapling it -
ritual wants a clean edge.

She tolerates my oddities:
a posterboard of errands above the sink,
tea mug with its brown ring I refuse to clean,
I stand too close when the train arrives,
or climb ladders with one hand full.

Last summer a rogue wave flung me under;
I surfaced broken, collarbone split,
came home wrapped and aching.
She kissed the bruise and laughed,
as if I’d slipped the ocean’s grip,
as if the sea had lost its claim.

I call them accidents to sleep easier,
yet I flood the stove with gas,
strike a match, laugh at the plume,
convinced the fire means I’m alive
even as it scorches my hand.

At night she circles the bed,
tugging at my toe tag
as if it could bind me to her,
carrying me into the cabin,
a weight she won’t release.

Hand traces - combing through her hair
Pull closer - leaning in - for the leftover - body
And sleeve is bloodied - "It ain't me"
A pressing on the chest - "He's overdosing"
Fragrant delight - of given vision
Spreading legs - "Let's toss him into bath"
The flow corrupts eyesight and hearing
No echo - dark - she locks and crosses feet
A tracing up her neck - invites hip linger
Sensations thirst - "Just take me" - kissing lips
And vibrant touch of skin - a thrill
Sinks sound - the desperate begging
"Suits you the least" - for being favoured
Hits syringe - light starts to flicker
"Take him by arms" - a splash
And eyelids heavy -
Her fingers digging into back
A jolt - each ******
Is moaned for harder - "Dead"
Convulsion - numbing self
And emptied reasons' dullness - strips
All vomitary hope -
An ache for clarity -
And fertile womb
For "being human" impregnation

I painted your greyest skies my warmest colours,
i planted flowers over your dead soil,
i sat in pit of misery as my experience shouldn't be bestowed upon you,
i pleaded as a solider to its king to stop the war,
to stop the war within you
and when the roles were reversed you left me out to stink in my agony, dreaded with misery
When questioned, you looked at me
It was the first i saw your soulless eyes,
and maybe i shouldn't had hesitated with your knife over my throat,
I should've melted over your knife and let blood drip your face,
If it drips would it be sinful? Or a scar?
maybe i should've let myself rot away as my soul would've been free,
if it weren't for me
would you have survived?
You, who held this misery once was too shaken to see if it weren't for me.
We are two worlds colliding and dying.

I yell at dead trees for being too loud,
i strangle them with cold pieces of iron,
i heat them up in fire,
i throw the burdens i can't carry
as no other could listen to this misery of mine.
Everybody has footsteps behind their lane but not me,
I see a creature,
slowing lurking to pull me in.
With every pebble thrown at me,
it shouts to end it all.
It has neither face nor a body to move,
Its an energy i must get through.
my rugged clothes and chimney dark,
my small home and sluggish moves,
my flower of hope with a drip of desire.
That's all i have to fight through this monster.

i have been caged up for so long that i no longer feel the rust itch upon my skin,
how the harsh sun melts my fellow mate bones.
Every now and then there's a meal.
A meal so fantastic for cover up that even i believe it.
4,203 meals yet none of it tastes as delicious as meal of denial.
Hard to come by,
get past and stroll upon so i eat it.
Day by day till starvation meets my face
as every meal was just anger,
desperation,
ignorance,
emotional unavailability,
selfishness
as meal is not made of food.
It was never made of food.
“Everybody paints me the villain!” He cries.
There's no paint left over to cry in canvas.
“Nobody understand me!” he pleads and goes away
It's been 627 days since his death,
He reeks.

Pray for Death
As she walks our halls.
Pray she tap so softly
Upon each chamber door
Where angels long prepared her visit.
Pray her breath is sweet
When she whispers,
Come my love, it’s time,
And pray her hand be warm
As she guides each on the way.
And if you think Death capable of mistake,
As I do not,
But if you do,
Pray the taken Soul
All the sooner,
All the closer,
Be clasped to our Lord.