Family

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Times that tremble through you
passing by a passive mind,
jamming triggers of weapons like dust
on an old album, slowly scratching away
tunes that used to brighten our days.

It is to be felt abruptly, a realization
that things can still go wrong.
For no matter how hard you try
how hard you want for it to go well,
nothing is in your hands.
Cigarettes are lit, but never smoked.

Soon the plagues will come and crawl,
make a mess of what you've spent
your whole life building like a busy queen ant.
Soon, my dear, you shall not ever be seen,
ever again.

So rest your tongue, for words only make heavier
the burden of you, we endure
your wishes, questions and fallouts.
We are family.



Image from: http://the-oxette.deviantart.com/art/Grandma-2-92502797

Harp at a Funeral

Please help me
for I am too happy with who I am.
Birds singing, rain sprinkling and candy
in all possible variations.

Greeted by a hot door handle,
a nod and a smile, I sigh
feeling it creep underneath my skin
a sinner's last meal is meant to be...

Heat strokes attacking my eyes
filling them with warmth where cold resides
from now 'till forever.
Can't you see? I love this place.
I've been home where I did not intend,
now I long for yesterday's beating heart
and tomorrow's festivities.

He stands, serenading for who decides to pass.
Through a looking glass, he smiles at us,
sings one last song
before he packs his seven things
to leave this room in silence.

A flutter here, a whisper there.
He left us in despair, a place where
no Monroe is fair, no saint will share.
A place so empty,
echoes are scared.




Image from: http://jimduvall.deviantart.com/art/2004-20-37906976

Catharsis

Every morning I look at myself,
I ask some questions. The same questions.
Some are worse than others,
An interrogation fit for a liar.

Do I have the right to?
Yes – world peace is in danger.

I make hands, arms and legs
Move around, perfectly choreographed.
Even my smile joins in.

Dancing for the masses.
Worriless, blazing with love in halogen.

All this hate I feel
It is not meant for others,
But meant to achieve what no one has.

If you want peace,
Prepare for war.



Image from: http://exoticpeach.deviantart.com/art/Self-Hate-83072960

Caught in Difference

Like penciled lines these doubts
circle my mind.
Thin enough to escape an ordinary eye.
Thick enough to black out the sky.

Scurrile, pumping through my veins.

Their roots are long and firm
embracing my eyes every time
I attempt to turn away
from shady sights that fill my hands
with goodies of yesterday.

Go away. Leave me, for I will break
my neck trying to move on
with ropes wrapped around my head.

I cannot see, nor will I ever be
able to comprehend
why you held on for your sake.

You gave your thread a tug.
You put my doubts and life
to end.



Image from: http://crusader333.deviantart.com/art/Caught-118311147

We Will Walk Wherever We Want

These silver tiles we walk
with feet bruised and clothes torn
hungry for the feel of grass
and morning dew between our toes.

Through hell we walked together,
hand in hand. A force so strong
knees of Gods would bend
if only they would understand.

Bruises, marks and scars
reflecting in light from the stars
like tattoos with voices
softly humming our names.

We do not look ahead.
There is no need to fear these tiles.

In time we will realize
that all we ever needed
is not in front of us.

It’s all right here.
We are right here.




Image from: http://andrea-reyes.deviantart.com/art/I-Just-Wanna-Hold-Her-Hand-165587233

Houston, We Have No Problem

Once an aspiring astronaut
I have turned my luck, tossed a coin
and faced every situation.

Whatever it takes.
Whatever it takes.

Was it the wrong suit?
The wrong type of training routine?
We have outgrown our journeys.

With feet bruised and colorless hair,
we see our young selves
in reflections on this sea.

And like tidal waves we fly towards the moon,
rise above horizons, outrunning time itself
and escape the atmosphere.

To where we will be free.

And here, where sounds cannot be heard
and sounds need not be made,
we will find our place
to sit in peace, close our eyes
and be.


Image from: http://grokulsky.deviantart.com/art/Astronaut-40559898

Long-Distance Good-Byes

Like guns these words fight for peace.
What am I to you?
A fallen soldier in the mud
A broken promise for a better future.

Turning wheels, twisting bones.
Can you smell it?
Thick scent of photos ignored
behind covers of dusty books
will you dare to use your hands to

open pages of happy masks
that will never tire of helping you
smile away in late-night drinks
engulfed by classical music
and pompous smoke.

You dwell on these photos
especially those of me, for
they remind you
of the puppet I used to be.



Image from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mamiyaesdedia/5008861651/

An Idealist Perspective

It all begins when my mind's freedom
ties me to a chair, making every
hair rise up to fight.

Horrid anticipation.

The first few furious times
do not hurt, I
bite all pain into my tongue as you
force me to be a spectator

of my own downfall.

My face stays still.
While skin that has not seen
light
gives way to much darker things.
For now.

Eventually I fall victim to the ill
you instill in me with each consecutive blow
until even your lack of breath
feels like razor blades in my eyes.

You're a shame for all living things.

Let me give you some advice, you
should strike where wounds can be hidden.

No one will know.
"This stays between us"
and you grab hold of a blade.

You grin at me, while slowly
yet passionately driving it
between my ribs.

With each millimeter
your smile grows wider
your eyes grow brighter.

You humor me. Supposedly you speak
the truth and nothing but the truth,
yet you have given me a scapegoat.

Oh, dear mirror.
How I love you.



Image from: http://samurajgrzes.deviantart.com/art/Mirror-86676128

A Whiplash of Punishment

Bizarre chants and scents, blindfolded
by fire in my eyes.

Is this the way you make me believe
in your fable convictions?

At my own peril I dug out beds for wilted flowers.
"Let them sleep!" you said.
So I obeyed your wishes, I
took them to sleep.

Who do you really hold accountable for this?

I must have worked too shallow here and there,
blooming seeds mock us in red moonlight
as I hear you chanting away
faith you used to have.

Go away and prove your innocence to someone else,
I need not know about your mundane excuses.
My judgment has struck you
like an ax felling a tree.

You have no roots.
Nothing to be put to sleep.



Image from: http://mrabanal.deviantart.com/art/Grave-121704175?q=boost%3Apopular+grave&qo=41

You're Only Young Once

You disgust me.
You pride yourself with visions implanted by escapes.
Escapes from that excuse you call life, you
make me watch over and over again

as drops of white take you to oblivion.

Don't you see? It comes at a price
not worth paying. You waste yourself in fantasies
of places where you forget
about your self-pity.

Upon your return all you long for is to go back
to where a few breaths took you
for just half an hour.

Do you really hate yourself that much?
Do you need to escape from yourself,
because I'm not the only one disgusted
by your reflection? What is left?

Just know, eventually I will stop watching.
I will turn away. I'll leave you to sink
in your own pile of excuses and attempts
to justify the way you live your life.

I've lost all respect
but this time
I won't ever come back.



Image from: http://oofailedoo.deviantart.com/art/Drug-Addiction-91534545

From the Outside

Cries of a voice echo, distinguished from all others.
"He's alright. He'll come to work tomorrow."
Held up by his friends, he walks
behind the memory of his father,
just fast enough to keep up
despite his feet, shaking of heartache.

Everyone has come to watch
and share their own recollections,
while two mothers cry, for they
have lost a son.
One of them buries her oldest child - why?
Why him? He was clean of all sin.

Yet amongst turmoil of voices and tears
he is forgotten. He's too small to be noticed.
His youngest son does not join in.
He taps his feet to rhythms his father taught him,
waiting for the moment to settle
in his mind and heart
for he has not realized. At that moment,
he was too young.



Image from: http://lonelypierot.deviantart.com/art/Boy-Religious-procession-82749148?q=boost%3Apopular+procession&qo=7

Hi, My Name Is Paul and I'm a Sleepwalker

It spoke to me, just the other day.
The moon. I saw its face again, shining its light
wherever I walk. It answered my questions,
told me I'll be alright, even
without its light.

As I walk, I get closer, nearer with each step
that sounds like a marching army in ears
of a spectator.

Though you're not here, I can feel you
pushing my legs to keep moving.
"Keep moving forward, towards the moon."
Towards you.

Soon I will be able to run instead of walk.
Give a butterfly some time to cause its effect,
so it will bat its wings as fast as a bee.

At the end of this, I see it: we will reign
each other's hearts. But don't forget:
send a card to the moon.
Say thank you.



Image from: http://montiljo.deviantart.com/art/Sleepwalker-175626767

Twice Over

I'll explode.
I swear it this is not a warning
this is a doubtless promise
carved in your memory.

One more time I tell you
just go there one more time and
you won't live to see your face again.
Not as you know it.
Anyway

don't listen, shut your ears
I'm nothing more than a fountain
without water, a gun without bullets.
Please, stay close,

for I love you. Say it again if you like,
I won't get angry.
Or maybe just a little?
Don't dare me, I'll explode.
I swear it.



Image from: http://grinch7.deviantart.com/art/Fight-CLub3-109013787

Loops of a Rollercoaster

Repeat it.
Repeat it again and again,
I didn't quite hear words
I can preach with my mouth closed.
Repeat it, just this one time
won't make a difference.

I can't taste my blood anymore, my
tongue is burnt, has been ravished by
your temper, your ice-cold temper has

taken me to places I wish I'd never
go, places no man has passed
through without passing on his soul
for nothing in return.

So please repeat those three words
that tempted me into this.
Repeat them one more time,
like you used to.

Repeat them one last time, so
I can put my dry lips to rest.
Or at least try.




Image from: http://ivaly.deviantart.com/art/Breath-114515074

Confession

Abusive use of niceties
"In the name of love!"
crafted carefully, fitted
to the shape of my heart.
They fortify, they guard
like an iron maiden keeps
its victim close enough
to restore warmth where there is no life.

You're well read. Words tumble
out of you, a fountain's spirit
magically flowing, circulating
forevermore.
Do you realize?

I cannot drink water you so carelessly spill
onto my dry tongue.
Will you, in your happiness,
watch me drown?



Image from: http://brandnewfuckup.deviantart.com/art/drown-in-white-88339308?q=boost%3Apopular+drown&qo=57

Don't Mess with Elevator Buttons

From the inside out
I'll eviscerate your flesh
and tear your heart
to shreds
I'll watch you fucking bleed

My mouth grew tired of your shit
now I spit in your face,
avenge myself for what you have become.
You recreant, you phony, you whore.
We were meant for so much more.

From the inside out
I'll eviscerate your flesh
and tear your heart
to shreds
I'll watch you fucking plead
for mercy

For so long we went all wrong.
Sorry my dear, I should have known
that you're nothing but a sellout.
You had me proud and loud,
well listen, remember those secrets?
Remember the times you cried in my arms,
for I will make them known

I'll unleash your fears, the plagues and torment
To leave you in tears
To leave you in tears

It appears to me that
we're done
we're done.
So save your shameful screams
for someone who seems to care
for this worthless affair that is
your meaningless existence.

From the inside out
I'll clean up this fucking mess
and tear your heart
to shreds
I'll watch you fucking shriek
for death.

From the inside out
I'll eviscerate your flesh
and tear your heart
to shreds
I'll watch you fucking shriek
I'll watch you fucking bleed
I'll watch you fucking plead
for mercy.



Image from: http://clintcarney.deviantart.com/art/From-the-Inside-91671032

To Trust a Man's Word

Soft breaths draw daggers through my neck
over and over again.
My hands have tired scars, exhausted by trying
to protect what is left. Long slices of leathery, dead skin.

My mouth has long gone silent, it does not need to
prove your breathing self wrong.
Not anymore.

Resistances shattered, Mom's expensive dishes
broken on teeth below my feet.
Where I walk, I feel bitten
by causes long forgotten, whose rebels moved on
stashed their weapons away.

Only you remain.
Why do you do this to me?

But I'll stay and sacrifice it all, take
all torture
like the man I promised I'd be.

An Acid Called Routine

I regurgitate beliefs pounded
into my mind like ruthless assassins who murder
with their hands.
I cannot make sense
of what leaves my mouth, leaves
my tongue wondering
whether its task is complete.
I forgot long ago.
Their hands destroyed marvelously
pieces of wit
whose presence will never be missed
because I don't remember.



Image from: http://xerces.deviantart.com/art/Blood-On-Your-hands-51289784

Despair at its Finest

Embracing whispers, the
super sinister sound of your eyes, beautiful
wooden shoulders measured
in age by numbers of colors.
Our feet cracking the plastic
undergrowth of forests bigger than elders
all firstborns, all sons
of all their fathers
not here to mend us.
We don't stand a chance.



Image from: http://herachary.deviantart.com/art/Every-word-was-an-execution-146135718

Make A Move

When storms have settled, birds quieted down
we'll take children and children's children out
to where it happened.
A place whose whereabouts are only revealed
by whispers of quiet light.
Light whose sole purpose is that of
destroying, burning and shattering it all
to pieces
until nothing is left
of what worries minds of strategists
in this war we call life.

We'll take them, show them, love them
to no end, so their hearts are satisfied
with what no hunger can consume
on behalf of malnourished limbs.

All of this I wish for, when
surrounded by masters of chess, screaming in my ear.

Ordering my hand to move
where it does not belong.



Image from: http://adnrey.deviantart.com/art/Chess-king-65661133

Groundbreaking

Like bags in lost and found I'm
found by forefathers I never had
I'd rather sit here and listen to music
than go face my fears
and chase my dreams
in labyrinths birthed from bottomless ground,
laid brick on brick by forefathers I never had
I can still hear echoes of their shovels digging holes
where I stand now, feet lifted
in the air
flying over my head
and just out of reach.
With straight legs, feet reaching for heaven, I
could never touch my toes.



Image from: http://oo-rein-oo.deviantart.com/art/Reach-Out-For-My-Soul-159694190

Happiness

Happiness. It's a strange thing, a
feeling like no other. When it
fills you from above, below and
upside down, makes you dance
and grin like a madman.

It's happiness, ultimate goal
of all who are alive.

It fills gaps left by
past and present, sits inside
pushing buttons everywhere, as though
pure energy was to flow through
your entire body, lifting every hair
on your skin, but sometimes
it gets too much.

You can't escape it, bright black hole.
It sucks you in, yet explodes inside you
like new year's eve. It forces its way
to the outside, makes you glow, not only
for you, but for others.

Happiness.
It's strange.
It makes me dance.



Image from: http://steal-midnight.deviantart.com/art/Ready-To-Explode-93046357

Can't You See the Ring?

Your lips, they will burn themselves, they
will melt right on top of mine, if
you dare to challenge me, I
will show you how it's done, I
will show you what it's like
to feel loved.

Let yourself go, just let it all go
don't try to mess with me
or I will hang you, make you
dance like my pretty puppet,
high on infatuation.
You just want what you can't have.

Through all your pain, you
won't gain anything from me, for
I'm promised to another, so
stop trying, but don't start crying.
Your tears won't wash away
things that have settled in, words
spoken between two hearts
of which none is yours.



Image from: http://selfhaircuts.deviantart.com/art/lovers-36623818

'Till Sunrise

Leftovers of sunlight bathe the
sky in blue, not black so
black that hell seems
like an option to consider.
Blue, not black.

Though thoughts of the dark,
they're back to consume you
in your fears, break your bones,
burn your skin and leave you here
in tears as dry as grassy deserts.
I'll stay and fight it all.
I'll stay for you, I heard your call, I
won't let it get to you.

I'll protect you, be your angel
without wings -- and only
armed with a mind, but
I promise I won't leave you behind.
I'll stay 'till sunrise



Image from: http://vikkigothangel.deviantart.com/art/Save-Me-From-Myself-166810745

Free Climbing

The art of taking risks is
only to be mastered by few
who knew all along, knew
things they had to do
and give up.

These heroes walk among us, slumbering
in a deep sleep, waiting for
the call of her voice
to blossom out of darkest silence.
Armed with a mind.

Like puppets they dance in
their dreams, their impenetrable sleep, so
weak and at God's mercy,
just waiting.

We all can, we all may
do things our own personal way.
Take the risk and you'll be rewarded
one day.
Or so they say



Image from: http://mont-martre.deviantart.com/art/ladder-63344945

You Broke A Promise, Now I'll Break You

You, you were the one
You, you were the one
The one to promise me what can't be done
The one to promise me what can't be done

Now benevolent judges pass
their dreaded thorn of justice.
As it drives through your heart, I
watch myself in a mirror
I watch myself tear you apart
I watch myself tear you apart

I am the chief
My word is belief
I am the chief
My word is belief
I am the chief
My word is belief

Your cover was blown, now you're
facing this terror and torment
all on your own
all on your own
all on your own
all. on. your. own.

You won't be helped, you
You won't be held, no.
Not this time
Not this time
Not this time



Image from unknown source

Midsummer Medley

When distance is the closest reminder
my earphones cry in my ear
like a broken jukebox, while
I hear nothing but
another depressing song, making
me wonder when I'll get
sick of my dreams.

Away from home, yet not alone.
I tell the story of
jumping up and down, in and out
of flashbacks in the future.
I don't feel alone.
Or so it seems.

I wish you were here, could
smell taste and hear
all the same things
that happiness brings.

This song is a mess
but I gave my best
to make it loud, to
make you proud
of me.

So one day they'll see that
you and me are
meant to be
like Andy Mckee and
his guitar



Image from: http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=on%20the%20road&order=9&offset=24#/d1qr5qt

A Gipsy's Fortune Telling

A familiar face, a familiar place
is all I need, all I will ever ask for.
Just need to get away from deadweight
memories and acquaintances, unnecessary
for what I'm about to do.

My way or the highway they say,
when they see the scars, forgetting
that in fact, this was predicted by the stars.
It is meant to happen.

Endless lines, drunken away, blurred by
less important, blatant prayers. The paper's
stocked infinite layers, with each new word
the single word means less.
A poet's dreams,
what a mess.



Image from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotcherry/522354938/

It's Okay

It is quiet now, the storm has
settled, pushed out of the way, so
"it's okay" I tell myself.
"It's okay"

No echo of thunder, no calming
rain drops, not even the slightest wind.
It's quiet now, all around, it all does its work
without a sound.

A place that safer could not be, though
here I am, legs twitching, fingers tapping,
eyes rushing about.
"What was that?"

An orchestra of noise comes tumbling out of the sky,
aiming for me, only for me and no one else, for
I have broken the silence.

These silences, they don't come back.
So no,
It's not okay.




Image from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jololog/3515788924/

Dreams or Dreams

When clouds suppress the moon's light
as well as the sun's
then 'tis hard to belong at all.
The clouds are just so big and tall, my
eyes along with all the rest
hover about, abnormally small.

I once had a dream, a wonderful dream
about the moon, with its face and light.
It greeted me, on the moon, greeted me
like I was he, the man on the moon.
What a delight. It knew all there was
to know and so I asked, politely:
"Will you tell me how to get to California?"

But dreams are dreams and now it seems
the weather forecast won't let me see
what the moon promised me
in an after-all disappointing dream.



Image from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jhnhtt/376420837/

Good Game

Another night accompanied by another set of feelings, memories and thoughts all mixed together in a big messy pot that I somehow manage to call my mind. I spend my nights with friends, playing board games until the birds tell us that it is time to go to bed. “Good luck in games, bad luck in love” echoes a voice in my head, as I keep losing time after time. I don’t mind losing the games, because I know that I am loved. Loved by someone whom I love, someone who has opened herself up to me and let me in on all her fears. It’s what makes me feel safe in a world equipped with every tool necessary to crush a young person’s dreams and leave behind nothing but the awful memory of imagining what could have happened. It lets me go upright even at night, lets me take my thoughts to places I wish others could see. For what it gives I’ll take it, no matter what the cost. May it be the biggest financial debt of my entire future life or the loss of friends. I’ve set my priorities, anchored them with what I write, for after all what I write feels like it’s been tattooed onto the face of my soul. Tattoos last forever, and so will these confessions.

Sometimes I feel like a romantic at loss for words to accompany my actions, no matter how small, like there is a reason for my mouth being taped by the flood of things I could say. Those are the only moments that bring me close to what I feel when I’m close to her. It’s awe-inspiring. In another way, finally using the word correctly: it’s awesome. One night I walked back home through empty roads with street lights leaving circles of light on the ground on which my feet would tap on, sending out the loudest sound present. Earphones in my ears, I look up straight ahead and see the moon shine through clouds, yet again. Something had changed, something seemed different. Its light didn’t seem blind anymore; it was piercing, dominant and whole. It was yellow. As if to mock me yet again, just this time with that damned colour yellow. I have my stories about it, my opinion and my thoughts, but those are another book to be read to my little children one day. The moon’s light has changed. I’m not quite sure what it means, but it will lead me to some conclusion some day. Things have changed in the past few days and they will continue to change; a part of me even fantasizes about the moon being responsible for it all, that it is the force that drives it all, that it is a godlike entity with control over everything. Then again, what is one moon around one single planet in a never-ending universe of countless more?

The Moon

2.30 in the night and through the window of this room, past a few faint clouds I can see the moon’s shine. It reminds me of all the places I’ve gone to, all the places I’ve been and all the places to which I will be going. In these moments I don’t quite know how to feel, the onslaught of memories and dreams overwhelm my mind and leave no space for emotions. That’s what I see my life as: the past, present and future, more exactly the dismal past, the stressful present and the unknown future. The past is what has shaped me, in the present I’m busy trying to create what I want my future past to be and, finally, my future is full of hopes and dreams. Seems like a taunting view on life for an optimist like myself, but optimism is what I define it as, my life is what I define it as and I define by making the choices I want to make.

The moon’s shine seems stale, almost monochromatic in the way it seeps through the clouds and into my eye, where it swirls up a pool of worry and self-pity. I get lost in my thoughts and find myself combining the distance between myself and the moon with the idea of all the distance between myself and my dreams. They seem far away, completely unreachable, yet at the same time their aura mocks me, tempts me and gives me all the strength I need to go on. I’ve come to a turning point in my life, a point at which I need to define my future. I’m scared. “But so is everyone else – it passes” you might say, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. Many people fascinate about the moon, write about it, think about it, talk about it, but only very few ever reach it. I may be scared, but I know that I have what it takes to reach my own moon. A very wise and very important woman in my life has taught me: “If you want something, go get it”. Ironically enough, that exact woman is on my moon right now. That’s what the moon does to me. It scares me. The things I want scare me, but I find strength in my wise companion. She’s taught me much and she’s taught me well. I will do what is necessary to be her Neil Armstrong. What is ahead of me may seem almost impossible, but if I reach that place, that great shining rock, I know I can finally start living the present, instead of using it to form my future and past life. Once I’ve achieved that, I think I will have gone where neither man nor woman has gone before. And I can’t wait to share it.

A Memory's Mirage

So much love around, but
you're way out of bound and
I can't seem to put away,
stash away these memories that
are rooted deeply in my mind.

This smell, the walls, the bed, the chairs, the phone
they all feel so alone, as though
all my memories vaporize their very existence and
leave me in an empty room
whose walls echo your name.

I wish that soon I'll wake up, open my
eyes and have you in my arms, breath mildly tickling
my skin, like God was mocking me to make
up for all the good, for after all
there's a little thing called karma.

In every blink of an eye, my heart proves that we
won't lose against the world, for its weight
does not account for what we are
and always will be.



Image from: http://demonflame.deviantart.com/art/Two-Against-the-World-127404771

Don't 'Demon' and 'Human' Seem Similar to You?

You follow the doctrine of
long fallen men, their
ideas and theories possess you -
like parasitic insects.
Can't you open your eyes?

Past-dwelling is for authors -
leave it to them, young boy, let
them decide who to care for, whose
seeds to be planted in nurturing soil
of your mind.

I may be blind, but hear me speak
and you will know that
long ago, I was one.
One of the fallen.





Image from: http://salgada.deviantart.com/art/Demon-37773069

An Ode to...

This hall, this pleasure
it falls, we measure
ignorance the architect had not
accounted for. The roof
was meant to hold, but
refused abiding by the law.
We saw it fall.

We drank the bliss God has
missed to reason out for
us, we must control our
every word. He is watching us,
begrudging us. He will make the roof fall.

We asked you "is that all?", you
did not respond to our hurtful call.
So we turned our backs and watched
the hourglass tumble upside down.
Blame us, for we have
failed ourselves.



Image from: http://abanna.deviantart.com/art/Failure-164601841

Schizophrenia

Oh, what have you done?
Did you really justOh God, what have you done?
What did you do to her?

Her heavy carriage filled with hay and
broken dreams, did you not
see her suffer? I saw and
I did what I had to do, what
you told me to. I can't
believe what you've done.

Her tender voice left me
no choice, I had to act, oh
please I beg for you to
tell me this isn't true, let me
repent.

Is this the end? Or have you just
started to teach me, preach me, oh God
you can't reach me, his blood-thirsty
fangs have already breached my heart.
Please forgive me, forgive me for
tearing her apart.



Image from: http://aspius.deviantart.com/art/SCHIZOPHRENIA-21069327?q=boost%3Apopular+schizophrenia&qo=1

Beichte

I didn't ask for my name
I asked for you
for you to be in pain, for
your head to spin 'round your neck.
Just so I can
I can finally breathe.

You cuffed me to your arm, though
I want you no harm, though I
was misunderstood.
Poor baby, he ate someone.
Where is this coming from?

You wrote this book, now
read it out, read it loud, so
everyone can hear and
everyone will know what you did.
They will all find out what you did to me.



Image from: http://littlewolfcat.deviantart.com/art/My-Guilt-49010658

Machtspiel

I could speak of nothingness,
suffering or pain, but
it will have been in vain, for
you all fall victim to
the lead I weigh upon your brain.

It gives control and power, this
insignificant constellation of meaningless
words. You read, you look onto the paper, when
all I want for you is to see the pen
washing the white away.

You all-knowing, magnificent creatures, I present
the newest feature in this circus of revenge.
I take your time. I take your life.
I take control, while
you're fading away, staring at blinding paper
covered in nothing but white.



Image from: http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=words&order=9&offset=24#/d13hjnj

Servant and Liar

I'll face it, embrace it, chase it
every word that leaves your venomous mouth, I
will battle my way out of it, I
will show you how it's done

I don't have your scars, memories
or much of it at all, but
I can still see stars where
they're meant to be. They only seem
lonely to you.

Fine fissures finishing all that I've begun.
Just this once, I'll make you watch,
staple your eyelids into your skull so you
can do nothing but watch me, gloriously
overcome your quicksand phobias.

When all this is over, I
will come and kiss your every piece of skin.
To feel my antagonistic heritage flow
into your inconspicuous little head.

Wake up, you're not dead.
We've only just instigated this infallible
paradox of needs.



Image from: http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=§ion=&q=mutiny+in+heaven#/djgaow

Dreams

Dreams, overpowering and endless.
Though it seems like there is no end
in sight, I'll keep going.
Keep the dreamer's life awake, no matter
what's at stake.
I insist.

Too long I've lived by
the book, repeatedly telling of it
as though to make myself believe its lies.
I resist.

The urge to give in and close my eyes.
I won't fall victim to unresponsive dreams in
black and white, without end in sight.
I shall surpass illusions of deranged blurs
and ask for what I deserve, as
I raise my fist.

Dreams are lies, or so they say, though
I know mine may well be true.
I know my dreams are not to be run from,
not to be seen as reality's shift
They're meant to be,
meant to be lived.




Image from: http://wiciaq.deviantart.com/art/I-had-a-dream-104576015

Confessions of a Tortured Man

It's the chair again, oh
how I longed for
this to happen

You strike repeat, strike repeat
not knowing that I like being
at your feet, for
here is where I feel home.
In the heavens of hell.

With joy I let you prick my hands.
With joy I pretend being one of your fans,
just so you won't stop
before the climax

I spill it all, every last drop.
I like its color, glistening in
the light from your eyes, in
those eyes I despise, eyes that
put me to rest.




Image from: http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=§ion=&q=chair#/d114l9g

Freundschaft

I know you don't want
me dead, at least not yet.
So go on and let me feel
your pain in ways
no one has before.

This obsession with plastic suffering, it does give
you the touch of a god, of
something much like me.
You've got me on my knees, yearning
for my screams. All you get is
silence.

I detest your violence, this
act of begging for punishment
you don't deserve.
"This pain, this pleasure
it'll all be over soon."
These were the words of a friend.
These were the words introducing
the end.




Image from: http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=§ion=&q=resistance#/di7st6

Medusa

Signs in the sky, brighter than
stars, brighter than the light in
your eyes.
My hair's become scarce; and
I know I won't last
much longer. Not without
your voice.

They read your name, these signs.
Like ones on the side of the road,
telling me where to go.
But

I can't move, something
is holding me back.
I cannot move, I'm forced to
watch the signs' shine
fade away into black.

I'm sorry.
I couldn't move.




image from: http://cornellius.deviantart.com/art/Waiting-for-A-Sign-20886126

Numbers

Calculate me!
Tell me my number, hell
just tattoo it on my forehead,
so forevermore I shall
repel whom I hold dearest.

Day in day out they walk
in and out, with one thing gone:
their souls.
Lost to numbers, used to
replace their minds
with 10 new things to
worry about.

One: you shall not speak
even when spoken to
your voice shan't breach
the safety of your inner sanctum.

Two: remember who you are
not who you were, for if you do
we'll label you "disturbed"
and confine you to your thoughts.

With smiles from ear to ear, I
see them standing here, in front
of me. Awaiting whichever command.
I may give.
Yes, this is it.
The way to live.




image from: http://anemic-cinema.deviantart.com/art/numbers-100470945

Incinerate

That fire in your eyes, it
drives me mad, makes me
wish I'd never had the things
you lay into my heart.

We stand here, face to face.
Turned the other way.
In haste I scream at
your smile. Unleashing floods
of water while I say all
I can, to suffocate your flame.

And even though my articulated waves
come crashing in your face and drown
your smile, I know who is to
blame for uncalculated victims
of unnatural disasters.

Not once have you moved, not
a single twitch in your face.
Yet still sinfully burning away:
the fire, in its rightful place
Have I not proved anything?

Your silence numbs my tongue, makes
me think that I was wrong, to
love you at all
if all I do is fall
without hands to catch me.




Image link: http://tvlookplay.deviantart.com/art/Hood-of-Fire-103379040

April Autumn

Twirling words
like branches of an old tree.
Still it hurts --
the idea of flying,
being free.

Brown and yellow leaves
in mid-April spring
sickly hovering towards the ground.
Into dead grass --
where reality is found.

Painting your face
ready for war --
sharpening blades.
Awaiting the blood to drip
onto the grass.

Brittle branches brawling
in struggle for reaching the light.
For those in the shadow of others
die.




image from: http://emats.deviantart.com/art/Leaves-Wallpaper-100824718

Knock Knock

They call you a traitor
Leave you licking wounds
Torn skin from sharpened stones, thrown.
Still you hear their shouts, echoing --
Numbingly in your head
"Kill her! Kill her!"

House and home destroyed, ash.
All that's left is what you've
Stashed away, safely in your heart --
Unreachable skies with all real hope
Unbreachable doors with small looking holes

Through these holes you cautiously observe
Ones who knock and ask to enter
On behalf of love
Planting seeds of the skies in your chest

But you're too scared to let them in
Because it's the wind which quietly carries
The distant cries --
"Kill her! Kill her!"

Through the looking hole you see
The face of the one you loved
Was it ever enough? He doesn't --
Seem to see your door
Anymore.

But then the skies, they shine
A light onto your door.
Where he sees a shrine
Sprinkled with things
That aren't anymore

You hold your breath and watch
Him, walking to your door --
Knock, knock.



Image link: http://gio91ber.deviantart.com/art/The-Eye-of-the-house-142388430

Quiet Voices Sound the Best

There's rain dripping through the roof
[Onto my bed]
Where I'm sleeping, trying to move
These thoughts out of my head
[These thoughts out of my head]

[With eyes wide open]
I'm singing you this song
[Promises broken]
What did I do wrong?
Tell me, [where did I go wrong?]

The water has long replaced my blood
Turning to ice [I pay the price]
For speaking words to cut
Open your scars

[With arms wide open]
I'm singing you this song
[Promises broken]
Where did we go wrong?
Tell me [where did we go wrong?]

So now I ask
[Why does it rain]
When there are no clouds
[Why is there pain]
Where there are no doubts
[No doubts]

With hearts wide open
[We're screaming out this song]
Promises broken, and
[Even though it's wrong]
Together we're singing out this song

[Please], come with me
I'll take you to a place
Where we can be alone
I will take you [to my grave]



Image from www.deviantart.com

Be Quiet for the Gospel

The wooden boards, they creak
As scared as people resting their knees
Bow their heads in silent agreement
I stare down at them, disgusted
For they have sinned
[For they have sinned]

So I lift my voice and scream
[Oh God, why?] Why did you
[Put stars in the sky]
It seems their light
Should pierce my eyes
[And make me blind]

I've never seen you
Don't think I ever will
Yet I believe you
And I doubt you still
[Doubt you still]

With open arms
I give myself away
Give myself to the stars
When will this end?
That's not for me to say
[For me to say]

So I lift my eyes and cry
[Oh God, why?] Why did you
Put [hopes in the sky]
It seems their truth
Should [pierce my heart and make me numb]
Make me numb

All of these questions
They make me wonder
Does what doesn't kill me
[Really make me stronger?]

I call out
To all of you who see
I call out
To all of you who make belief
And carry me home
[Carry me home]



Image from www.deviantart.com

Sessions With Protagonists

Sitting in a chair. Cold, leather-coated chair
Sitting there, in that alienating chair
Empty stage, a narcissistic performance
Spotlights of all kinds, locked in on hands
Covering my face, trying to hold back tears
In a cold embrace

I drowned, right then, right there
Not in water, but in air
I drowned in thinking it was fair
Now I'm sitting in this numbing chair
Talking of my hands

Your eyes, ashamed to see marks, which
Bear witness of my past. Despite the light,
They're dark. Shadows where there should be none
A black hole, right, in the middle of the sun

You tried to help, I know
But your tongue was paralyzed, even though
Trained to run for days on end
You tried to be my friend
Yet you watched and didn't say
A word as I walked away
Away from the chair



Image from www.deviantart.com

Singing Underwater Never Sounds the Same

Broad daylight sitting in the dark, because
That's the way you like it
Pursuing an impossible task, because
That's the way I want it

Diving into undiscovered oceans, in
The submarine we built with careful hands
Bermuda triangle, Antarctica and more
Let's see what God has got in store
To challenge our ship

We'll master them all and prove
Everyone wrong, prove that
Apostles of gloom and doom are wrong
Why else would I be sitting in the dark
Writing you this song


Image from www.deviantart.com

Permission Slip

For now blood has dried, for
Now their tears they've cried, hollow
No more sorrow. As I slowly peel blackened
Essence off my face. My arch enemy
There he lays
Peacefully guarding my legacy

An example to all who raised a voice
Leaving me no choice, but to
End the sound, turning necks around
To see the light at the end of the tunnel

Extracting scenes from days, when
All day long the sun would set
To shine its red light dripping upon my hands
I hope God will understand and let
Me pass the gates of judgment

No regret, no. I'll have none
For what I've done is done
But outcast warriors who
Take the righteous path
Belong in heaven, at last.



Image from www.deviantart.com, but edited