like a midnight
than my wick
Talk candy in my ear, come on, come on
I want your toxic, talk sick baby
I know those gospel lips can change me
Look to the right of my okay?
We got exhibit “A″, she, she ain’t okay today…
Coronary seductions are tart, let’s play a fun fucking game
As you mess up the combinations, I’ll hook up on my brain
Stalactites of sinner spit and cold sick stains on the carpet
Tortured strains of dinner hits, but don’t blame the peeved pet
Incendiary souls sparking and dancing on a shower of alcohol
Gaslight and butane wars, that’s all it’ll mandate for you to fall
Avuncular terrorisation, but you’re getting a little too touchy
That’s enough from the queen of hearts and the king of babies
I understand this is against a chilling breeze, a carnival ride wrought for two
Only I get motion sickness too easily to please, and I’m already sick of you
Nasty, I know, just enough to make candid heavens whip their backs and cry
Still, if this story didn’t have a laughable tragic ending, then I wouldn’t even try.
The last contendent
Bad for us, bad for you
This capillary root could root up
All the little puzzle pieces
Of what you’ve been through…
Sometimes it freezes.
Feel the need to write
Brain does not cooperate
Laughing at my fight.
I’m a sinful man
The darkness is my mistress
Do I deserve sun?
Mopping out the gore
Along the white padded walls
This is horrorcore.
She bade them goodbye
As She destroyed the planet
Mother Earth is done.
Burst into colours
The falling leaves of autumn
Paint the dull weather.
Bound in chains, restart
My heart refuses to do
Now we’re worlds apart.
He broke his promise
Like scintillating mirrors
The shards wounded her.
The clock yelled at him
“Your deadline is nearly up”
As he went flatline.
She folded her faith
And tucked it in her pocket
Until she lost it.
Not knowing what to say
And being at a loss for words
Leaving your mouth hanging open
At a time when you needed your voice the most
All your thoughts slowly slipping away from you
Like fine sand sifting away from your fingers
Years seemingly run away, it’s true
In your tongue, the unspoken lingers
While you stand there, mouthing undecipherable words
Until your mind’s rendered completely empty
And you’re left there standing alone, feeling heavy.
Not knowing how to say something
And lacking the right words to use
Your best ideas dissipating into thin air, lost
Just when you needed them the most
The words running away from the back of your brain
Diving off at the very tip of your tongue
And your hands fail to move and instead shake badly in pain
Writing nonexistent words
Until your mind overflows with too many thoughts, unkind
And crumbles your peace of mind.
It hurts so much
It’s the worst kind of pain to us
A pain like no one can ever imagine
Like the taste of the stars fading away from your lips
Like the flame of a candle, flickering, dying bit by bit
Like the darkness consuming you from where you stand
Like the celestial universe being ripped away from your hands
It just feels that terrible, that scary, that bad
And I don’t at all jest
Like emptiness, a hollow feeling in your body and mind
It really hurts to be an uninspired poet.