Sun blazes down on the back of morons

Wind tears posture off their feet

Fighting for a foothold on what will never be, will never appear.

We feel so bad. We're feeling so terribly out of    place

So we
          sink

               Deeper
                 Harder


There is a macabre beauty in not knowing :
Becoming apprehension machines.

A spark that explodes

The touch that withers

Fires that never die off

Kisses for eyes that close forever

Feet that lose their rhythm

Salves that never heal

Prayers that go unanswered

Justice that is never served

Hate destroying all we have dear

The perfect drug.

Something odourless,

Something tasteless.

Untraceable,

Near-impossible to manufacture,

With extremely high levels of addiction.

Withdrawal symptoms from mild to severe, ranging between loss of appetite to psychosis.

A most delicate

Almost deliberate

Basic instinct

I don't need a Khadijah.

Neither do I want an Delilah.

A little bit of what Freud said,

And unhealthy doses of Darwinism.

I'm stuck in a perpetual state of being,

I'm stuck in a constant cycle of repetition.


You can't have your cake and eat it.

But for now, the tunes will simmer, strain and boil my feelings.


With the curling of fingers down your face.

Body marked by scars
Heart full of holes
Mind filled with cracks
Soul smeared with taint

But you were the best I ever had.

The loudest of the bunch
With sleeves wrapped down

With multiple layers on
Twinkle in his eye


The meekest of the few
With shoulders hunched and huddled

With nary a word to describe her
Too much of a wallflower


By chance, or by fate.
Just the two of them,

Bound by a moment in time forever.

The boy with his scars,
And the girl with her demons.

Our footsteps,
Not similar,
Yet familiar.
X meets Y in this rendition of love.

"As I live and breathe!"
How goes your latest despair?
Does it say "silent volume"?*
"Or perhaps, a new addiction for every end of day?"

Never looking through glass panels again,
To see how have things changed.

There's no need for the flames to dance across the darkness, no more.
It's seductive, I know.

It's tempting, I.. know?
There's always a need to look back, to learn.
Tell tale signs of intrusion, prevent your mind from being unchained.
Now, prepare for the ambush.
Feed the paranoia.
Fear the abandonment.

Relive.
Relief.

Two words that couldn't be farther apart.


Why does it sound so close, yet too far?

Relive : a small chime slowly drawing you in, to dream of a dream that was never a dream. A drowsy half state of a dead mind, and the best of your heart's desire.

Relief : the guitar strings thudding loudly as the drumming in your breast tolls a bell, that never ends til destinations been reached. The mind singing choirs of devastation averted, and the heart returning back to a slow rhythm.

Feel your/my/our exposed nerves.
Comprehension breaks down as submission draws nearer.

That old familiar feeling.
Flooding back, in tunes you never knew could exist in the space it took for a breath to begin and a sigh to end.

Lightning arcs across your brain, the scars lighting up, rearranging themselves in ****** gold runes.

It's a happy noise.
It's a good noise.

The background rises and falls, in perfect harmonic distortion.