Christmas Cathart

24-karat fish.

It bleeds.

I should do more black and white watercolours.

Dead Eyes

I should have learned by now
How wrong it is to give myself away,
So easily, for the want of love

To involve
To invest
Your heart

Is to expose yourself
To disappointment,
To unrequited emotions

So like a flower uprooting itself,
Hand slipping from hand;
I'm out of my element

It hurts
And I'm dying,
But I'm living.

The Melancholic Temperament

It's an asteroid crashing on my heart
Sending me flying through moon phases
And I'm screaming and I'm shouting
The sounds bouncing off the chambers' walls,
But all you hear is silence.

Fever

I'm trying to fight off
These infectious thoughts
Crawling into my mind
So I'm burning
Burning all these memories
And it's a bonfire in my heart
Where the smoke burns my eyes
And the waterworks start,
Trying to put out the fire
And wash away everything
That has me thus fevered.

Dark Descent

Perhaps it's a horror story
Perhaps it's because of all the horror stories,
That my mind would keep doing this to itself:
Why, whenever things are happy,
When things are perfectly calm,
Shadows start to grow, scarily extending its arms
And take hold and possess my heart.
It is the sudden appearance of storm clouds,
And the slow settling of paranoia, taking root,
Making me believe in dark and cruel things.
It is the desire to pull away, to shrink up
At the sight of frightening apparitions, 
Making the withdrawal into the dark shell alluring.
It is the selfish trick of loneliness wanting a friend,
Conjuring up images and gossip,
Making its arms ever so inviting.
It is a form of insanity, self-enveloping,
The writhing and crying of a phantom pain,
Begging hallucinations to stop,
But once you start the descent,
How do you climb back up?
How do you completely weed out the dark?

A Murder of the Heart

The wrath of a kind-hearted person
Is a terrible thing to behold,
For if you can set fire to the rain,
It will burn the world.

The cold of a loving person
Is an ever-lasting frost,
It is the dying light of the day,
It is the knowledge that the warmth will never return.

The resignation of a giving person
Is the drought when you are dying of thirst,
It is the water you let go to waste;
We always miss the things we never properly appreciate.

The absence of a caring person
Is an eternal darkness,
It is the love generously given to you,
Gone forever.

The Thin Line

My heart is a book with a worn bind
Each crease and line signify
Every time you open it roughly and wide.
So careless and cruel,
Claiming you have better understanding
Than you actually do,
Of the words not written by you.
I am on the page you've bookmarked,
The page, tattered and waterstained,
When confronted, you apologize
With a smile, for knocking over the glass
But what else can I say except "It's okay"?
The words bleed and melt, the ink seeps,
Pages and pages of darkness
A mark I cannot unfeel, cannot forget.
So I'm sitting here, running my finger
Over the wrinkled lines and blurred words,
I close my eyes and feel the tears well
My grip on the page tightens
The rage in my blood urges me on
The paper, in my hand, conforms,
But I don't know if I have the heart
To rip it out.

Smoke

The smoke over the water
Slowly shape into familiar forms,
The silhouette of lovers,
Holding onto each other
Before they drown in air.
But they might as well be letting go
For time steals breaths,
And though your scent lingers
All I'm left are wisps of you.

War of Words

Where did your words
Gain the power that they did
To hurt me, inside out,
Striking me down,
Bowling pins,
Perhaps you have been
Saving all your dark memories
And used it all in one attack on me,
Because I am the only one
To have gotten this close
That you mistook for some other enemy
Trying to invade your soil,
But I wasn't, I was simply there
Trying to understand you.
And thus I tried shooting back,
But I can't seem to hit the mark,
My words can't end the war,
And you kept going
With your artillery,
Never ceasing fire,
Bombing my heart,
Because all your care about
Is winning,
And as the smoke gather
Up around you
You lose sight of the purpose
But perhaps it's your 'foresight'
Because you never wanted
Anything more than someone
To put down, to kill
Inside and out
With your words.

Mis-loved

I gave you everything
And yet you pushed me out
In front and fed me to the bullets
They ate through my heart
I looked through the holes
And saw your face.

The Last Petal

The raindrops play the tick-tocks of the clock
And I'm yearning for the sun, but it is held hostage by the clouds
So here I am, rooted to the ground, patiently awaiting
For the light to lift me away from the melancholic hell

The sun eventually came and went away
The water wheel is still turning, but I have grown with time
And I open myself up to you, delicately and unassumingly,
But cruel winter has arrived unannounced and stolen the warmth,
And I succumb submissively to your cold absence,
Even as the last petal falls.

Love & Hate

I walk up to you
And unbutton my shirt
Dig my fingers into my skin
And tear it open.
I'm telling you,
That this is how I feel
Whenever you leave me
And you think I've abandoned you,
But do you see,
Do you see, how I bleed,
How my heart
Shakes in its chamber,
In pain and in fear
When you turn your back on me.
I open myself up to you,
Yet you refuse to understand
My love for you,
And so I take my hand
To my heart, ripped it out
And throw it to the ground.
This is how you make me feel.

Together

My blood-shot eyes are a painting
Of the agonizing torture I feel inside,
Each crisscrossing red lines on the white canvas
The wounds of your heart bleeding through.
I consumed too much fatigue, drunken vision,
But I persist, resist the veiling of eyes,
Because I want to suffer with you,
Because you're not the only one in anguish,
And may we found solace in one another.
So I took a step toward you, swallowed
My fear of your potential reproach,
My fear of saying the wrong things,
And endured the coldness of your silence
Only to find the real you buried beneath.