One Night

It's a bolt to my heart. I can hear it's rhythm increasing. Breath trembling.
Goosebumps. A quiver, a quake.
Hundreds of soft whispers gracing my body for the first time.
It's a sultry beckoning.
I can feel the contractions, my muscles aching, my thighs filling the gaps of space.
Each removal becoming a blank canvas for you to sink your teeth.
Paint me.
It's me twitching, waiting for another fix, a moment of guidance from your lips.
Waiting, waiting for your hands to go deeper, for your pulse to lap over mine.
Take me.

Blitzkrieg

I give in, to the breath stolen from me.
Mere seconds converted into hours, trudging their dirty claws along my clean walls.
Ruined.
These seconds have destroyed the peace, this quiet.
Tumble, tumble down. Concrete smithereens littering the ground.
Chaos.
Thoughts without leashes trespassing kept lawns.
I give in. This battle never began with hope, it began with a stolen moment, one I needed.

The Great Wide Empty

There is beauty found in solitude.
Being alone can either bring peace or fear. Two genuine, raw, primitive emotions.
Peace.
Fear. 
When no one is there to hear your words,
When the echo has faded into the vast oblivion, and the sounds become indistinguishable,
When your enemies are vanquished,
When the soft side of the empty bed is the only comfort you have,
Tell me, what do you feel?

rock-a-bye-tonight

There is a sweeping motion, call it a wave.
It brings forth tidings of dissonance, pain, memories, and sleep.
Sometimes it comes at you ten feet tall. & you standing there, waist deep in sand,
well,
you're already stuck.
Then,
there are those blissful waves.
Their siren song lures you to sleep.
This lullaby is tiresome.
All your energy will drift away, while the next waves returns.
each one coaxing you into a sweet slumber.

My Blight

Spiny, black decayed flesh reaches for me. This is rot.
If you can't see it, you don't tremble.
You don't understand. This chaos. This fear.
One hand reaching for me. Settling at my neck. This is death.
Don't breathe it in. Don't let it hover.
My alarms have gone off. You can't hear them, I can.
This is the beginning of the infection.
From one thought to another, never ending, never ceasing to relax.
There is no disinfectant. Fight it, but there will be no triumph.
Don't give in to the contamination.
Breathe it in, suffocate.


This is how you break.