Necrophiliac

I have become addicted to the smell of you.

What smell is that?

The smell of sweat, soil, cigarettes, yeast and warm rum.

...

It isn't an insult. That smell is like my personal stash of high... And now that you're not around anymore, I've created it for myself.

What?

I walk around in this old forest at the end of the lane, smoke a few and treat myself to a rum every morning sitting nearby this place. That's how I douse myself in the memories of you.

You shouldn't do that.

Oh, who are you now to tell me this? You're just a dead body in this old forest at the end of the lane from 2 weeks ago. I love you though.

...

Your house of cards

Your house of cards has fallen down,
Maybe you should've thought twice
Before moving on,
Before you pushed and pulled
And screamed and shrugged off,
Maybe you should've thought twice
Before walking out.

Your house of cards has fallen down,
Now you just want someone
To help rebuild it all,
But there is a new queen in the set
And a new king
And a new joker unmatched,
That would be you it seems.

Your house of cards has fallen down.
Now so have you, stained and broken
You're on the floor, I see you screaming.
I see your hurt and I'm bleeding.
I'm watching you die and I'm blinking.
I see you writhe and groan for these words,
You're forgiven, so I'm giving.

Love changes

We're idiots holding on to broken pieces
Of what was once real and heartfelt.
Love changes.

We're the idiots not wanting broken bones
To set, not realising it's broken.
Love changes.

We're the idiots fighting for someone dead
Who has turned over in the grave with another.
Love changes.

My love, if I'm an idiot for holding on to you,
Expecting core feelings to be the same,
Expecting that I'd hear those words again,

My love, if I'm an idiot for begging you and
Falling for you even when I know it is a fall,
You're the bigger idiot letting us down.

But you know what, my love?
We still have feelings for the feelings we used to have.
But love changes.

Workaholic

You do not see the tears
That trickle down every night,
After you leave the bed cold;
The only warmth being her work,
She turns to it more.

Then it starts to kill,
A kind of addiction,
A sort of escape,
Where mechanical routine
Is soul numbing - she doesn't feel -

At least, not anymore.

Layers after layers of paper
Smother her in her dreams;
The darkness which comes with it,
The high she gets off it,
All seems worth to hide the pain.

Piles after piles of books,
Miles and miles of faces,
Confused smiles and angry glares,
To work is to be free of the mob,
To be free of the anxiety and pain -

Yet it kills her, each second, a little more.

You do not see her broken spirit
Reflected in her now lifeless eyes,
The bed you left cold long ago,
But now you're back
Just to say goodbye.

The cold machine she has turned into,
The iron fist which she exerts in her field,
The drinks and weed she avoids,
Only to drown herself in more sheets,
Realise that you're the reason she's there -

A workaholic in her cold and lonely despair.

The One of the Flames

Because my friend demanded a happy ending and this is how happy I could get:

#The Flamed.

You begin one which is all love and flames,
A cheery story to warm hearts as tales,
This tale about the girl who walked through flames,
She came out alive, lived to tell the tale.

So sad for her, one day she was waylaid,
A group of men hornier than dogs in heat,
Tore her up, tore her up like meat,
Bleeding, bruised and scarred, they left her to die

But she was one who had walked the flames,
She couldn't just lie down, give up the game.

So began the true story of the flames,
It was one of a girl who'd been thrown out in shame,
She had sold her body, all for love,
Came back with a child, they say, cursed from above.

They told her she should walk through fire,
Because the child was to blame,
For how could she of the skin fair,
Come back with a child, black as hell?

She cried and told her story
But no one would dare to hear,
For how dare they hear with the child from hell
Hanging on to his mother dear?

The child was dark, black as night,
With hair as red as blood,
His fingernails were yellow and teeth were edged
Like nail points to bite and kill.

The fear of him grew stronger and stronger,
The child avoided the sun,
Well-wishers in disguise, they thought up a plan,
Let her walk the flames of truth and tell

Her story to all, man and woman alike,
Children even if they wish,
But only if she survives may she stay,
The child shall go with her.

Plan set into motion, the girl had no choice,
When path was set on fire,
She hugged her son tight,
Whispered three words and then gathered him close,

She walked through the path, her eyes closed,
Her mouth reciting stories from old,
Of a beautiful man who waylaid her with love,
While she was on fire and walking through earthly hell.

The beautiful man turned out to be a demon,
And maybe her child is demon spawn,
But abandon him, she will not,
And out she walked, unscathed.

But alas, for her, for everyone,
The child had disappeared.

She screamed all night through,
Tore out her hair,
Ripped off her clothes,
All in pure despair,

When she got up on her feet,
She walked away,
Searching for her child and
The man who had led her astray.

That was when the men waylaid her,
Ripped her up and bruised her,
But she was still burning, nursing her wounds,
Her small body threw out flames and they died.

Where is the love and cheer you ask?
Well dear lady, that was only a false mask.
Courage arises out of fear and hatred,
We admire what we ourselves dare not test.

So this is the story of the girl,
She walked the flames and survived,
She found her child, she made a life,
All on her own, she was a soul that lived right.

- People lie, cheat, deceive, molest...but in the end, how you hold up is what matters, isn't it? Not what they did or will do. But how you face up to the ones who wish to see your will broken and eyes defeated. How you say that one word, NO.

Precious

I love him like a wound,
Like a pain in my head
That makes me see stars,
That makes me hope for better days.

I love him like a disease
That I don't want my body to throw away,
Like spots on my face which mark me.

I love him like I love the dark
And yet fear it at the same time,
For it swallows me whole each night.

I love him like a nightmare and a daydream,
Those I can't wake up from and confuse me,
Scare me, scar me, become my tragedy -

Because he is my addiction
Who comes in a bottle with a cigarette in hand,
Who wakes up like time is of no matter,

Who doesn't realize that my each stolen second with him is

Precious.

Just for once

Just for once-

Miss her,
Feel her,
Watch her going through
These motions of everyday;
She doesn't care for it;
Just miss her,
Shout out to her,
Feel her across this space,
That distance keeping her
From you, your sight;
She is blind and wandering;
Just feel her,
Think of her,
Help her wake up and see
The world that she is missing;
She just made one mistake,
She loved too much and more,
Still does;
You are what she's looking for.

Will she ever find you?
Just let her,
Just for once.

Description

What is that?
In those spaces
That I can't describe.
That single moment,
Many moments and memories
That rush at me, blind me,
Make me laugh
And send shivers down my spine.

What is that?
In those words
I just cannot say.
Feelings, more mixed,
Some weird high,
The catch in my throat,
Warm feeling in my gut,
I don't know, I don't know.

What is that?
I'm trying to tell the world.
Will someone please,
Please tell me -
Is this what you call love?
Then free me,
Else my heart will break.

It will run, fall and shatter,
And nothing more will ever matter.