Secret (Pierces)

Secret's safe with you
We can keep a secret if
One of us is dead

Travels

The cave has narrowed and Death and I are close.
We crawl together
Arms brushing.
I pace myself carefully, not to burn the small amount of energy I'm allowed.
When I wake, I wake hopeful. I see the future, the world outside;
I'm building it in my mind;
I'm pacing my travels,
tracing my steps,
walking on fist and toe
with large pupils
but never running on instinct;
no, only on intellectualism;
next to Death as an equal
a mutual teacher.
I show him life
and he shows me death.

We work together to create a superior being.
We work together to even the burden,
exchanging weights, answering questions,
balancing the load
between two halves
of one person.

Death and Life, functioning together,
Death creating Life, and life creating Death

We travel
towards a common goal:
equilibrium.

The Reminder

Divorces, separations, widowings
Happiness, empty, closed, reserved
Dead, never touches the eyes, alone with company
(Kissing without saliva)
Brushes the heart but never enters
(Fond but not in love)
Doors are locked
Keys are hidden
Under the mat
In the lamp
Underneath the rock
On the back porch

Reminders
This house is ours
Not my own

two evils

unsure of how to choose between
one evil and the other

i thought, why not give you a chance
i know, one day, you will break me,
i know that this won't last forever
i know that the world will destroy what we have

but i chose you
because
you've taught me so much
and i need to know how to love again
i chose you because
you are where I'm supposed to be
you and i are a team
you're my fate-for-now
you're my i need to understand this
you're my sleep with me tonight and wake with me tomorrow
you're my love now

i chose you
and that's all there is to it

the sweeter of evils
the painless death
the eyes closed orgasm

i chose you
and now you're mine
and it feels right.
for now.

angel on the sideline

two foam fingers on
screaming your name from aside
i hope you make it

Pseudopathy

I hope
this is what you wanted.

I hope you wanted to see me die.
I hope you actually stopped loving me that day.
I hope I bear no attraction, no ounce of beauty, in my body.
I hope you never loved me.
Just like you said.

No one sees you as well as I do.
No one sees the way you
act like you care
almost like you actually feel it
it's like you really feel it
and then you shred it apart
like it's nothing
when addressing the mind.

No one sees the sharp teeth you bare.
The glistening, dragon eyes you use.
The venomous tongue;
The sharp edges of your structure;
The knives on your fingertips;
The killer in your heart;
The apathy in your soul.

You murderer.
You monster.
Killer.
Psychopath.
Lunatic.
Freak.

My favorite person.
My partner, soulmate, my dancer.
I need you.

Legend (Surviving the Schism)

One cloudy night, they laid together in bed, spooned. Their hearts gently beating in unison. Their bodies were cold, their faces were stone. Their eyes were the same shade of grey. They slept in dead silence.
All he had were nightmares. His mind unsettled and restless, imagining himself running from a large wave of darkness, feet barely moving. The darkness never engulfs him, even when it touches him, but he's afraid that one day, it will.

She dreamed in monotone black, staring at her eyelids throughout the night, and waking to face nothing but a lifeless corpse of the human she used to be, and the dead man that slept next to her, flinching, softly whimpering.

She created this hell. She killed him. Every ounce of beauty in him, she drained him of, every ounce of identity and manhood.

She stood up and entered the bathroom, going to wash the dirt from her face. For a long time, she simply watched the mirror with an empty expression. Then a tear streamed down her cheek. And another. Her eyes, like rusted pipes, slowly leaked more and more salty wet bulbs. Her face was unchanged. She stared into herself, seeing nothing.

A small sob erupted from her when she felt the knife enter her back.

She didn't have to look back. She knew it was him. She knew his expression, his posture, his heartless stare that was piercing through her mind, as if the knife carried a shock that lasted as long as it remained in flesh. She knew exactly what happened, and she slowly fell to the ground, laying on her side.

Heavy weeping suddenly burst through her lips as she bled out. He knelt by her side and put his hand on her hip, staring into her eyes, maintaining his glare. He watched her die slowly, waiting for her heart to stop fighting the knife in her back and give up on her, on life.

But as she cried, convulsed, and cringed in agony, she grabbed hold of the knife and slowly took it out of her. She removed his hand from her side and held it in hers for a solid moment, kissed him goodbye, and walked to the nearest hospital.

She had an amazing willpower to live, they say. That's how she made it.
Some say she actually just drove there.
No one knows how she made it. But she did.
God must have been looking straight down on her that day.

But she's not really alive. She's something far beyond the living. An old soul, they call it.

And she still loves that man, that man who almost killed her. She watches over him, pulling the strings of fate to keep him from getting the grey she cursed him with, as she is the only cure.

 And sometimes, he looks up at the sky at just the right moments, to see her smiling down at him, sending her love.

"To fall in love is a blessing. To stay in love is a curse." - Unknown