Paint me a picture of a beautiful flower

Then tell me all the sins it has done

Let me look away just once

Before this sour taste in my mouth

Becomes all there is you showed me

All that hasn’t gone south

Let me see the truth behind the lie

That last wish before you die

or before you get to live

Give me the chance to forgive

Under the mistletoe what we have done

Pict...

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Slowly slowly,

A cynical way of crying calls for silence.

Tears become unconventional objects

that could be wiped off from my cheeks

and wiped back on clothes,

until the wet leaves no mark of existence.

Hush-hush,

The pain would go away

and vanish with no trace,

as though it is meant to remain unknown.

By then, all will be well, and the scars shall

thrive in preten...

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Keep the tips of my fingers callused,
The rings to my eye sockets,
Deep and purple.
I do not have the luxury of being lightning in a bottle,
I must make my presence known through substance,
Filling the sea of aspirations with my own,
Intoxicating and plentiful,
The key to any readers hearts,
My own suffering.
I will expose myself bare,
Devour my offering so that I may find release.
Unde...

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