Take me...

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Take me to the place

where our end does not exist,

where time hovers on the brink of twilight,

a place that can still this loss of purpose,

put to rest the futility… the restlessness…

that is gnawing at me.

I Run

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Damn, it is uncomfortable,

the impending doom that’s made its home

in the pit of my stomach,

where it chases me with hours

when mere minutes barely passed,

and shreds my nerves as it grinds away

to a diary that isn't mine.

So I flee to a harbour that offers no shelter,

where my endurance is performing admirably

against escape routes stronger than time,

until this body can no longer withstand

the influx of chemical substances

that finally force these restless eyes shut

but the soul that can’t sleep trawls along…

When Time Stands Still

 

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Time slows imperceptibly,

minutes merge with impurity,

‘til the sun sets at noon

and your days are as dark

as the nights are silent,

and you’re motionless

in a breathless void

where your spirit can’t fly

with the breeze.

The Joker

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It’s the fool of a Joker playing havoc in my head,

pouring prompts and propositions

in a never-ending flow, into the path that I now trail down,

where foolishness take’s a firm hold,

opens wide the windows in a lighthouse,

during a tempest,

whose pulse gradually weakens,

as wantonness captures me

and we fly with the churning clouds.

The day Darkness stole the daylight

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Darkness stole the daylight

and the wind tore through my soul

on the day I fell in love with you.

A shiver of your threat,

discarded, your design,

you ravaged and raged

to the rhythm of the moon,

you drew me to your core,

made a slave out of me,

I am drawn to this storm, here I feed.

The Train

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Your words are a slur in my peripheral vision,

assaulting my tenacious control

with your frenzied and rampant hysteria.

Your poisoned breath tries to violate my flesh,

shred every page I’ve ever written,

and you laugh with condemnation

at the fabrications your callous

and ignorant mind has conjured up.

Now the train speeds even faster,

there are no monsters under my bed,

you are a smear that recedes

in the darkness of my fascination.

Magical Midnight

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When the night is bright

and sound is depressed

by the many sleeping breaths,

the moon shines on my skin

and I see your fingers,

luring me as they linger

and dwell on my craving

to fall deep into your thrall,

from which I never will be free.

Psssst

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Psssst, come here, let me tell you something.

For many years I fought my instinct

to stay behind these walls,

believing I was wrong,

and that sharing my inner self

creates a path to freedom.

But I now rescind this right

that I have given others,

I no longer want foreign fingers and minds

delving into my psyche.

There is peace behind sharing only what is required,

by retaining a part of every story for no one else but me,

because no one can understand the madness of my mind,

the foreign dimensions in which I wander

which even I don’t understand,

but I need, to stay alive.

The Edge of Purpose

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Are we but a culmination of every choice we ever made,

formed by the times we’ve been dented and bruised,

tamed by the views as set by society,

and moulded into obedient slaves,

unseeing and unfeeling, unquestioning?

Or are we the result of our passions and desires,

taking leaps that take us over the edge of purpose,

obtaining scars and bruises along the way,

yet the pleasure outweighs that what we seek.

Intent

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If all communication

starts with intent,

what was your intent behind the revelation

that could in no way possible

bring any positive result about,

and how did the subsequent events

live up to the expectations

you had built in your head?

Did it play out your way,

did it bring you the just reward you craved,

did you achieve your goal,

did it alleviate your pain?

The Weight of Sin

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I stand naked before you,

my soul exposed

to the imperfect self that I am,

open as the wind

discloses every hollow,

and the air flees from my lungs,

bare skin so cold I shiver,

I can feel and damn, how it hurts.

I promise you, the light won’t burn,
shake off the edgy restlessness,
feel time as it’s given back to you,
as you lose the weight of sin.

On The Day That Is Today

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On the day that is today

with clouds that are more silver

than they’re grey,

I’d like to lose myself in your arms,

feel the vibrations of your voice

as it rumbles through your chest,

feel your warmth as it surrounds me,

magic would be all I’d feel.

So come on, get up from there,

move yourself into this space,

let me sooth away the sights you see,

let me carry you away……

Burnt I Stand

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Fuck these voices in my head,

fuck their accusations and their guilt,

I don’t want to hear it anymore!

you don’t belong in my head!

I have crucified myself in silence

for 20 years,

and when hell chose to open

this particular door,

you nailed me to the wall

in spectacular fashion,

I flew too close and I got burnt,

I am in no way absolved from all of this,

but you cannot break a broken soul,

and now it’s time for you to get out!

Your words can’t hurt me anymore,

the knife at my throat is blunt,

punish my body until it bleeds

but my soul I am taking back.