The Crust Of Mourning.

Draw lines over my body. Separate + segregate. Highlight the best parts of me, not the sickness, not the disease. Only the good, whole, strong pieces. The parts that will make me feel whole, good, true. The goodness that I can't see. Colour the bad in black, so that it disappears and I can't see it anymore. Erase it. Erase that part of me. Syphon away, grate the edges, the crust of me. Find the warmth and nestle it to the safe, healthy sun to grow and expand and take over. Make the goodness consume me. Make me whole. Sharpen Desires Gradually.


The streets cast shadows on the street lights. Darkening their halogen bloom. I trip over tree roots, cracking through the pavement. It's not so dark that I can't see but I am rushing home, to an empty house, exhilarated with all that I have achieved tonight. I beat the monster that is my own mind and managed to escape. Rushing back to bite the hands that feeds me, an abused dog, forever loyal to it's master. She says that I am a sucker for punishment, I respond coolly "Perhaps then, that is why I fell in love with you, after all?" Evermore Chasing Blind Dreams.


Now there is someone else here, sharing my laughs with me. Sharing my bed, my dreams, fears and best of all - my HOPES. When I woke up next to her, for a moment I was shocked, anxious, for she is beautiful even with a face full of lines, imprints from my pillow. Her hair fanned beside her, Wide doe eyes. There is an innocence there that repels me, makes me want to protect her from myself and the darkness that is inside of me. The things that I have seen, the things I have experienced, have all become the very things that I wish to protect her from. She touches my arm and smiles. I feel dry and still want to sleep. But she is pulling me back to reality with her mouth, her eyes, the smell of her. Knowing that she was here, with me, ME, made me want to shout. Her burnt pink skin, expelling heat that I can feel from the other side of the bed, escaping from her arm that wraps me close to her. A heat that I find neither oppressive or uncomfortable. A heat that I feel both externally and internally. A heat that consumes. Mouthing Peace.


This city is dripping in memories of you.They are inescapable. It's been more than two years. Since I touched you, since I kissed you or mouthed you name with any kind of ownership. It's been so long, but I remember everything. Your smell, eyes, mannerisms. Your body, your breathe, your bravery. I've forgotten nothing. The angst, the abuse, the accusations. The love, the hate, the blood that was shed and the bruises hidden. The fucking teeth marks that remain on both you and I to this day. The things, utterances that came from my own mouth, to push you to the edge, to make you cry. To HURT you with. I remember them all. It sickens me, and I wish that I could forget. Close my eyes to it all. I wish that I could see you one more time, touch you with what love I have left for you. You are inescapable, in my blood, the very oxygen that I breath, you are the cancer in my lungs and the nightmares in my head. You are the one, the one, the one. I wander the streets, wondering if it could ever be OK between you and I, if one day, I will be happy that you are even alive. Your cold gaze tells me otherwise. I am yet to go a single day without thinking about you. It has been over four years and there you are, familiar and foreign. Justifying My Compulsions.