esopoemface

i wake i am instantly aware sweat drips worry slips night terrorizes me dreams and demons in shining color    ichor drips    i try to mend the wounds    she falls apart before me    always the same    im no saviour cold basement cold sweats "he killed himself", she pronounced more cuts deeper lacerations never seen, ever present ive not, nor will see a body    gone, another gone

lonliness is emptiness emptiness is cleanliness if cleanliness is next to godliness i'll be the first one in the first to get into heaven

a work in progress bone and muscle - not much yet and fatty tissue and skin still there's nothing within add a brain and a heart now i can rip 'im apart give 'im fear of fire and survival instinct and emotions to cloud his judgment to think now he's got rage and love and confusion so run kills to survive and to feel so alive he learns communication to build up his hive now we have a challenge - he's through now throw him into civilization and we find          my challenge is you

dream creature visceral being how to cull the choice to speak up, but without a voice? eyes like chocolate or those of crystalline ice each that i've melted and each never mended broken body and voice each of treachery and vice helpless and strong each pure without avarice a simple question a simple answer Marry me? my throat strains eternally

small wonder tiny little thing you slide right into my being little wonder you fill my eyes with awe tiny blunder i'm not amazed i saw you at all with a swing of your body you pin me to the wall a twist of phrase and i'm hardly here at all a slender being disjointed but pronounced a slip of a girl that never needs announced

voices so hollow with deep-set eyes they follow in my dreams and pervade the things i despise being anywhere but here hiding spirits of purity asylum in the dark the blind have clarity finding mirrors of souls i look deep into shattered glass losing my reflection i find myself searching for black mass the solace of religion a faithless ground for madness disenchanted harmonies in choirs the zealot's cause is tragic losing it i'm losing it bright eyes and starry tears i'm falling into the depths of years

i wonder what she's thinking when she's looking at me is it the passion i feel or simple sympathy? i cross her path and she says she's powerless but sometimes apparent she hopes forgiveness away and estranged from those surrounding her myself included, though i pray for her purr laughter thats sings like soft crystal though i'm still in fear of her pistol she draws near and i grow weak subservient and docile, so trim and so meek tides rising and falling she's powerless like a flood close like a stiletto blade she could take my life's blood

shadows darker leaving a marker scars left by the black she's not coming back wishing it harder doesn't make things easier just a little further if only just to please her pointless beyond the point of reflection i leave it for pestilent infection