hardwired...
carved into my brain
but you're a phantom limb now.
can't rid myself of your sickness.
smell you in the colours of dusk.
glimpse you in the heart of music.
you're still so disgustingly real.

dead hummingbird of love

the bird fled through the barred window.  for a month, its song  gradually grew acuter until it became nothing short of unbearable.

now you're a white noise. vague buzz. dim light being ramdomly flashed in my eyes at times.

now you're a droning. that's what you are.  once miss grand fiasco. muted choir of unyielding ghost writers at the back of my mind.

your song is now made of  undecipherable intermitent noises. now a tamed parasite. once a silent symphony fine-tuned by memory's wretched hand to a vaguely theatrical eye-of-the-storm-ear-drum-breaking-point-hold-your-head-in-panic effect.

self-deception

memories

memories
sweetened lies
seeds of hapiness planted
in the desert of your barren womb

18 months down
this grey cracky road
i'm still perspiring
your sickly sweet venom
asked a friend once
to suck it out of my heart
through my nipples...
elle a faillie mourir la pauvre

guilt

preach dont practise preach dont practise preach dont practise human behaviour or is it humane behaviour? what if nobody practised what they preached. if nobody really cared about anybody else. carefree, painless. What if we didn't ache. if nothing hurt anymore.

we don't think we need guilt anymore...does a body need to ache?  mere mortals would be so much closer to their end if they didn t feel any pain. we d be forever walking on thin ice. the layer so much thinner than it is now. horror-film thin. do we need a concience? is guilt the result of having a concience? is a strict concience a chronic condition?

love

endless hours spent
looking into your eyes
trying to plunge in through your pupils
didnt reach your soul
i went all out and got close

too far to come back
like a poisoned arrow
planted deep in the flesh
no clean way out
bound to be defiled

tear it twist it
writhe scream
oh, black and blue soul

hatred

can you make it out? simmer. like an impossibly low bass.simmer.  a ship from hell cruising through your soul's realms. simmer.  haven't sensed it for a while. it's been simmering the whole time though. simmer. such a force of nature. love they call it.simmer.  hatred they call me. she's on the brink of change. turning into a sour version of herself. it's been simmering for a while. they can make out the battered sails in the distance. simmer. we know who's there. waiting behind the black door. a shade.simmer. your love.

fear

Fear wasnt it at all... all there was left in the infested heart. you hate cheap stress... all you ever did was add to the fear fuelling the panic.