Glutted

Biting grotesque narcissism
A drenched and sodden trail
Unhealing scars of love
I don’t need you forever
Only for as long
As I can glut you
For every last thing
In this world
Every burgundy drop of life
You hold of value

Advertisement

Drawn

Pulled by the gravity of pain
Decided upon by death’s grip
Obliterated by the lonely hours
My soul is drawn to the grave

Each hour, each festering hour
Is the eternity of what will come
Is the eternity of what was
Is the eternity what forever is

In the spaces I see the shadows
The lost, the unloved eyes
Cold and vindictive by life’s
Eternal sea of shame

Each second, each festering second
Is the needle that punctures my skin
Is the knife that severs my flesh
Is the blade that slices my limbs

Drawn by the false promise
Of hope that things will change
My need to quell desperation
Is cured by taking your happiness

Deception

Cruel, unwilling, and lazy, the self-absorbed young man put on what he knew of his ostentatious, people-pleasing behavior to gain acquaintances. He played nice and made up things to say that he thought others might like to hear. He smiled unnecessarily, and he acted like the people whom he saw, people he perceived as upright and essential to the community. But when he made his entry past the first barrier, those whom he attempted to know perceived an odd air about him. He wanted love, and so he took it: he drained the people he met sensless until they could take no more. Newly acquired friends the young man gained became the people that died to him, the friends he lost.

Upon cold nights upon the cold years leading to the end of his existence, he sat alone, quivering by the rain that tapped at his window, desperate for love.

Ruse

I begin, with a friendly smile. I start, and my conversation taps into your interests. I play along until we are friends, but all along I am eyeing the life-force you breath, the life-force that flows in your arteries. You don’t realize, but as I create an ever greater presence in your life, you begin to experience mental difficulties: you’re angrier, you’re sadder, you’re frustrated. Without you noticing, I crawl and slink my way into your life, and then slowly, with each passing day, each passing hour, your life begins to dissipate. I grow with power, while your will fades, until I am a towering monument to the destruction I have wreaked upon all that you hold dear, where the only alternative is to banish me, to kill me, or to succumb to the pyschological terror until you become a zombie; vapid and broken.

My ruse has worked, again.