Orange and Black


His words reminded me of that time.

I was young, and you were a vision, clad in orange and black. I swear, those clothes were harvested from the dreams of wistful angels, and they were a mere highlight to your radiance. I called out to you that day, and you turned, and the light of the sun became secondary.

Well, you couldn’t really blame me, I had to stare, and in worship, take in every scorching detail. Time passed…

And still I stared, brain reduced to mayonnaise by the glare, all those fine cells containing the reason I called you, how not to be a statue, how to freaking blink. Continue reading

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I wonder what thoughts move behind your eyes when our gazes meet…

I wonder at every twinkling, every fraction of your eyebrow as it arches…

I wonder if you still take out the letter I wrote to you, its sheets worn with its frequent opening and repackaging…

I wonder if my written words run through your mind, every implied meaning considered and analyzed…

I wonder if you threw it away moments after you finished reading it…

I wonder how you feel about my silence….

I wonder when my words will reach you, and what they’ll be…

I wonder at the question in your eyes every time I pass by…

I wonder how close you are to him and whether those words, when finally uttered, will be enough to steal away all your attention…

I wonder why you seem so caring recently…

I wonder at each extended hug, each display of prolonged attention…

I wonder what to get you for your birthday…

I wonder at how I feel about your silence…

I wonder what tale you’ve woven for me out of the little you’ve heard…

I wonder if in your stories, I’m a legend, a loser, a Casanova, a coward, a hero or a halfwit….

I wonder if you mean it what you say when you said you’d changed…

I wonder why you want me now…

I wonder why I still even care…

I wonder if you would always be my always….

Wistful tirade

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il_570xN.670859496_r6e7The wind breaks the silence, it’s whispering cuts through it like the armoured head of the dread crocodile that swims the river Nile.

Our insecurities whisper also, of a multiple of possibilities, a clamour of thoughts. Each more final, more damning than the other.

It is a fearful thing. Weakness. Ones perception is always narrowed towards it as it worms it’s way through mind and soul.

I desire just two things, two acts to rid me of this malady, to heal my soul and free my spirit.

I wish of you to know who I am, and in that knowledge, understand me. That is the first wish.

Lastly I wish you to tell me, to whisper in my ear that despite my flaws, my shortcomings. I wish you to tell me you love me.

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Love Unrequited

Have you ever felt it?

It begins as a silent shock deep within your chest

It just sits there, growing…

Reminding you of what you would never have

Screaming silently at the injustice of it all

And all the while

You’d try to understand why it wasn’t enough

Try to think of what you could do to change it

It’s a beautiful feeling, really

Both the the intense immediate pain

And the enduring despair afterwards

For a time it bestows upon your heart impenetrable armour

You can’t harm what’s already destroyed

For a season it warps space and time

No thoughts or actions  can escape the gravity of the void

The emptiness created

When you rip out your heart

intending an exchange

And find only dust

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Mire of the Tortured, Tantalus; part 2

How he could acquire such a delicacy was a quite the dilemma, it’s not as if there were any gods randomly strolling through tatarus, the only ones that came through here didn’t feel like they’d taste well anyway…

what would he even say, “oh, Hades, Lord of the underworld, shepherd of restless souls, arbiter and judge eternal, master of the dead, keeper of the gates of tatarus…. I would ask thee of a slice of thine divine finger, if its not too inconvinient, for it is delicious in mine sight”

He’d just get his sentence extended, not that there could be any extentions to eternal.

Or he could make it worse, he thought about that for a second.

He knew each of the gods had chipped in for this most special of punishments Continue reading

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Mire of the Tortured, Tantalus; part 1

The air was cool and gentle… like spring water on the tongue,  ah… Water, he  remembered the taste of that. Thirst was the least in a long list of lack plaguing him, a need he didn’t have the luxury of filling. tantalus

Then there was the hunger, he’d long resolved that every being was comprised of four parts, the spirit, the mind, the body and hunger. What other explanation would there be for this everlasting sinking feeling?

Hunger as twisted as the old roots of an ancient tree wrapped around another ancient tree’s gnarled roots, hunger as deep as a sink hole created by a dried up river…. ah, there it was again… water…

He was knee deep in it

If he concentrated well enough, he could feel the it sloshing around his legs, the thirst returned with a Continue reading

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What next…

For the first time in forever

I’m not sure what to do with myself

I’ve wanted this for so long

So much that I can’t remember a time that I didn’t

And now it’s here.

I’ve got no more diabolical schemes

There’s no more need for insidious plans

What do you strive for when you have everything?

Do you reminisce about the past?

What i do is self sabotage

Which is highly illogical in its own right

Truly, I don’t know how to be content

Truly, I don’t want to be content

I fear it breeds complacency… The bastard beget of boredom

And where does that leave me?


I’ll have to do what I do best

I’ll just have to want more…

Of you.

(back to the drawing board then…)

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Let me start from the beginning. I was thinking of crimes, I think. I was thinking of preservation, and how much we could do as a species to reduce the destruction of our planet. Continue reading

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Ode to Madness


I am not afraid.—————————————–You can do that for me just fine

Like God, I am not scared of my demons

I hold court for them too, once in a while

how do beings possessing Immortality fight?

| How is a war waged between entities whose death is unachievable? |

When the grim cold hands of sheoul does not decide victor from vanquished

Will you find peace? Continue reading

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Nothing, just wallowing in the silence of unvoiced thoughts


Before, now…. forever


I keep all that jealousy and hope sealed, a large wad of clamped emotions


Because I’m in love with you, stupid.

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