I don't know

"My love for you
will never die",
a promise I kept
for you and I.
No matter what
you did to me,
I'd always be
too blind to see
that all your love
and all your lies,
would cause me to
always dispise
your lovely face
and clear blue eyes
that turned out
to be your disguise.
A mask to hide
your hollow ways,
to scam my heart,
produce a haze,
to stop me seeing
what you are
and make me think
you love my heart.
But, deep down,
you want the best
for your own heart,
your head, the rest.
You just don't care
about the cost.
Let me tell you,
go, get lost!
I no longer
need your love.
I have what I need
and more above.
So take your lies
and empty words.
Send them flying
up with the birds.
I don't want to
hear your pleas.
Just thinking of you
makes me freeze.
Go, be gone,
and don't come back.
Knowing you,
you'll still attack.
My sad addiction
to your ways,
what you do,
and what you say,
makes it hard
to cut all ties.
With you, I'll have to
tell some lies.
So, here you go,
you monsterous lout.
I hate you now!
Peace out.

14/02/10

The Last Moment.

As I lay down my head,
I feel the snowflakes;
they caress my face,
melting as soon as they
touch my skin.

I smile at the sensation
of warmth and cold
as it radiates through
my body, tidal waves
of life and death.

I breathe in so deeply,
the scent of pine fills
my lungs, the aroma
overwhelming all of my
senses at once.

The pain in my chest
ebbs and flows as
the waves wash
over me, with each one
more agonising.

I reach into my old coat,
and feel something,
warm and thick: it
oozes from the wound
in my pale skin.

My blood, rich with
iron and life, seeps
through the silk
that covers my skin
so delicately.

I feel the darkness of
death creep closer,
shrouding me,
smothering me like
a down pillow.

The cool air of winter
breathes over me,
chasing the only
heat that still laps
at my heart.

Light filters through
wrapping around me,
filling my heart with
white heat,
drawing me in.

I fight no more. I will
follow the music as it
plays far away in the
distance,
calling me home.

02/02/10

All This Time

After all this time,
you can still understand
anything I think,
anything I do,
anything I feel.

You still know me
as well as you ever did,
how I think,
how I act,
how I feel.

You make me laugh,
like no one else ever could.
Well, I think.
Well, I do.
Well, I feel.

And I knew you
would be back, I know
how you think,
how you act, but
not how you feel.

You never could
tell me how you feel,
what you think
we should do,
how we feel.

But after all this time,
I don't know.
What do you think?

27/01/10

Torn

Those wounds,
deep in my chest,
ripped open
once again.
Fresh blood
drains from my
heart and
stains my
pale, white skin.
I'd give
anything to
have a hell hound
rip me inside
instead of
your words,
your lack of trust
in me.
I'd burn
in the fires of
the sun
before I'd
let your
words scald me
once again.
My heart
no longer feels
emotion,
nor do I.
You took away
my will
to love
again, and now
you must
keep your
promises to me
as I have
for you.
It is time you made
a decision.
Love me
or hate me. It is
your
choice.

23/01/2010

Hands

My hands.
As odd as they
seem,
they are my
treasures.
They draw my
dreams,
paint all my
problems,
and write down
all the worry
that flows through
my mind.
They are my
outlets of
joy and pain, of
lust and of jealousy,
documenting the emotion
that courses
through my veins
in a way I
never imagined possible.
Things I'd never
dare to say
out loud,
set out for
the world to
view.
I'd be lost
if I could no longer
write to tell
the stories
of love, and of sorrow,
that fill my heart
with tears,
that blind my eyes
with the passion
of my soul.
Eyes I could live
without.
But hands?
Without them,
I am but an
empty shell,
rejected by my
being, cast aside
and left
to rot.
Hands create
music, and music
is the food of
love.
Without hands,
there would be
no music,
there would be
no love.
What kind of world
would we live in
if there was
no love?
This one.

16/01/2010