i dare you.

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Can you hear them 

in the distance

singing?

 

You like to think you’re a god
You are no a god.

A parasite.

Eating away 
At every jealousy 
Every piece of envy

Longing for the lives of strangers 
On them 

you feed

On the memories 

of love
loss
Birth 
Death
Joy
And sorrow. 

So, sweetest;

Go on then 

do your best 

feast on me

Take me
Take my memories 

my lives 

my souls

my demons

and my minds.

 

(You better hope you’ve got a big appetite.)

 

Because I have lived 
Oh how I have lived.

 
And I have seen. 

The things I have seen.

 

Treat yourself 

To the long preserved memory 

Of the day

I looked away

From the last great war, 
On the last passing of my very own soul.

I saw the birth of the universe 
And I watched
As time ran out 
Moment by moment
Until nothing remained 

Nothing

In all of time

But me.

I walked engraved in souls

Where the laws of humanity were devised, by 

The minds of madmen.

I watched as their hearts froze 
And memories burned

And souls erupted.

 
I have seen;

Oh how I have seen 

 

Many a deep yearning glow

Of red embers and sapphire 

In corners of every story

That told a tale

Once burning

Once had given light.

 

I have lost things 
You would never understand. 

And I know things
Secrets 
That must never be told.

 
Knowledge 
That must never be spoken.

 
Memories that would make parasite gods 

Blaze.

 
So come on then

Join the symphony, 

Dance on the graves of those who tried 

 

Challenge me 

And take it

 

Take it all
Have it

Have me
Bear it all. 

 

I dare you.

 

 

bowing out, to fate.

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the look on your face 
when your skin touched hers;
you used to look at me like that.
 
i’ve forgotten how much you loved me.
it seems, 
i’ve forgotten how much i loved, being her.
 
hear me as i plead,
listen to my howls,
outside your door
i beg of you.
 
if love is what you feel
my sweet,
don’t let me in.
 
open that door
my angel,
and i will.
 
i will crawl in.
 
no longer have i the strength 
to bow out bravely.
 
you open that door 
my love,
i will claw my way through her.
 
i’ll be kicking 
fighting 
screaming 
to the very end.
 
tell her
 
i can fix anything.
 
give me a war and i’ll fix it. 
 
but, tell her 
 
i could never seem to fix 
the fact that i,
am so breathlessly 
in love
with you.
 
kindly let her know;
I am giving her the days.
 
the days with you
the days to come  
the days i can’t have.
 
take them, please.
 
I am giving you, 
my days.
 
just you remember;
i will always be your fix.
 
i will , forever be 
your perfect fit.
 
with no more days, left 
to give
let me flare
and fade 
forever
from home.

when I looked at her.

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A snow flake, stuck on a lash, she cradled my face and blew. 
With it, floated, the thoughts I carried, buried, hidden, always visible. 
Her hands, a slight breeze of every fruit in every forest, reached the nape of my back clenching a fistful of hair. 
Memorising my every feature. Her eyes demanded my attention. 
I wouldn’t dare give in.
Look at me she whispered, so close to my ear, her breath, so warm, too warm, my blood raged, my heart gave in.
My lids rested upon my sight, so scarred, so terrified. 
I wouldn’t look her in the eye. 
Because if i did, she would see, all of me, and I loved her too much to turn her into a masochist.
I fear the touch that unravels me, I fear the home I found buried in every inhale I took around her. I fear the skin, a touch a way, too far to kiss. I fear her hands, on my throat, wrecking me. I fear the shiver in my veins. I fear the kiss, she blew, on lips, so hungry to have finally breathed. 
With my eyes still shut, I saw her, ripping away, my every veil. 
Her hands slid and fled. Waiting for mine, to bring them home.
I was undone, broken into particles of her, as she wore me like a ring.
Her tongue, painted pictures of black and blue, as it roamed every inch of myself I ever knew. 
There and then, my body, became her canvas. An armed field she took pleasure in disarming. I tried, to hide the scars, but in truth, much of my flesh, told a story of a survived encounter. 
She drew, with that tongue a sketch of my every wound. 
Inhaling my every sense, she took even the memories away.
In a moment that seemed to pause every aspect of space and time, I was sculpted, I was created.
We made art, that night, with my eyes shut. 

She brought to life a masterpiece, unravelling, in me, everything she ever dared to fear.

my ending.

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theres another world beyond these doors. soft lights and warm sounds. her soft voice sways like a symphony, making me dream of sunshine. i can see her through every crack. my hands tingle, they are tempted towards the noise of magic and away from this noise within my many minds. 

my tears fall like drizzling rain drops in hope of washing away the grime of life. 
i want to go through these doors, i want to be next to her i want to hear her music up close. 
instead i am confined to this room, reaching a state of irregular numbness, i close my eyes and let the darkness feel me.
 
she has no idea how dangerous she makes the people to themselves when she’s around. sometimes, i’d trade reality, for her. an alternate universe, imagined, but in it, becoming, something better than myself.
i know i shouldn’t be putting myself through this, i know this torture won’t ever have and end game, but how can i help it if her existence embodies what i was, what i am, and now the very part of me that made me feel worth something isn’t there anymore.

 
i woke up the next day at dawn, there was something strange about the sky, when the sun scrambled from its ashes, i didn’t remember much of last night, a mixture of smells invaded my space within seconds of my consciousness, charred wood, soaked skin and burnt cigarets, the room lay torn around me, somehow i couldn’t figure out which tornado took place here.
 
i looked for her in the ruins of this storm, and with every corner turned, a mangled semblance of our lives together, scattered across this apartment in the shape of an endless summer.
 
i never question this empty vacuum of space when the sun is awakened and beaming, but dawn seems to have an affect on every strung out mind within my brain, its times like these that i notice how i live like I’m waiting for something to save me. everything i own, everything i am, nothing but a religious residue, from a life left behind. 
i live in limbo, stuck in a labyrinth, running in circles in search of her. with my nights being spent in distraction, and my mornings dedicated to figuring out what exactly happened, this feeling will get deeper, it will sink farther than any soul i once had, the time seems longer and the days all look the same, colored in the darkest shade of grey, do i dare dream of my own fictitious ending? do i dare stumble upon thoughts forever hidden?
 
i could have been safe without her. her sharp knives scraping my life away, clumsily shaping my realities into something unrecognisable. shredded and dissolved, a life together apart was always inevitable. 
I’m still waiting for her to put the knife down, to let me go, so i can remember how to smile again, the kind of smile that doesn’t involve her. my mind is preserved inside her world, ageing strangely as if she wants me to live forever, to never understand why i can’t. in her world everything is possible, thats what makes her dangerous. the very reason my end seems, as anything and everything that involves her, inevitable. 
 
and maybe that is my reality a fictitious end.

a constant runaway’s remembrance

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I lit the fire, curled up with my book, lost in a hurricane of thought, there was still a monster in my house, and, in a fragment of time that had, perhaps, been snipped out of my reality, I was in love with the one that took me to the sea, and drowned me. From the moment I saw her, the prophecy became a reality, because that which takes the form of an angel becomes itself an angel. she was beautiful, she was magical, she was a nightmare within a dream. 
And the best part? Her eyes weren’t the windows to her soul, they were the doors into mine.
 
Her face, her words, and the sound of her every trigger, they were haunting me: standing behind me, present and yet invisible.
Our story, it wasn’t like any other.There had been betrayal in it, I knew, and loss, and time. The thought of having went through that made it all the more difficult to attempt any form of reality in my head; She was like a wound beneath an old bandage and I had grown more used to the bandage. She no longer served her purpose, and I never came to know what was mine.
 
The fireplace was almost dark now, with only the deep red glow of embers in the hearth to mark that it had once been burning, once had given light.
 
That was when i saw her coming, she walked like the last touch of a sunset, at the end of the world. 
Her hands, ever so delicate, formed a series of nightmares, tearing at a nightmare. 
I didn’t know how to begin reacting to her, how to conjure a single thought, I was lost and maybe found, I could never tell the difference.
We sat, the two of us, next to each other, and we could have been continents away.
She spoke, and as she struggled to continue, I seemed to hear nothing but silence, it was louder than words could have ever been. 
She said nothing. 
That was how I walked out, feeling liberated, but mostly, sad. 
Because, if i had stayed, It would have not killed me, it would have destroyed me. Dissolved me. I wouldn’t die, but if I stayed for too long, after a while only a little of me would exist, everywhere all spread out. 
And that’s not a good thing. 
Never enough of me all together in one place, there wouldn’t be anything left that would think of itself as any form of me i’ve ever known. 
No point of view any longer, because I’d be an infinite sequence of every view and point. I would exist through non existing, it would be like watching pieces of myself float across a meadow always there but never again, me. A mess of thoughts, unable to decipher between the person, I knew and the one colliding my minds together in war.
 
And so i left, I was happy, I was devastated, I was confused, and then the confusion was replaced by a smile, as if the world had just reconfigured itself into a form that finally, made sense. 
 
Decades later, when we meet again, in a sweet serendipitous moment, I won’t remember how badly I hurt her, or how harshly I tore at her, and most excruciatingly, how that last kiss felt.
Its sad that I won’t remember, but I guess its easier that way.
What happens to memories when they are forgotten? Where do they go after living in our heads? Shadows waiting to be called.
 
So we lay our past selves to sleep, burn them to ashes and scatter them at sea, we serenade the moments, the hours and the days, because, in that split second, as I liberate her of me, my heart will start to sing, of a ghost-memory, a phantom moment, a shaky reflection in the pool of remembrance.
I will know how it would have felt when I, the scavenger took her heart. 
How it felt when my hunger, tore into her chest and snatched out her pulsing core, still pumping, I devoured it to get at what was hidden inside.

I somehow know how that felt, as if it was truly a part of my life, of my death.
And then the memory snips, and rips, ever so neatly, and I, forget again how somehow, with her in my arms it was as if I seemed to hold mountains, babysit hurricanes and I lay demons to sleep, in the space of a single breath.