The Clash

Break me
Unmake me
Tear off strips of skin
Shatter my very soul

I've watched you die
A thousand deaths
I felt you deal every blow
As you struck me down

I've seen hell consume you
And been consumed by your hell
And yet I cannot stand to awake and find you
Still, immovable, removed.

I loved you like that once
Now what? A steady raging fire
Have we grown so used to the heat,
That we no longer feel the flame?

Perhaps I would rather pain.

The Song of a Place not called Home.

As I leave this godforsaken place
All I want to see is your familiar face.
The sadness sinks into my very bones
As I grow to hate the place I once called home.
My blood flowed thick with liquor
Mistakes, uneasy, slowly flicker
In the light of a stolen cigarette
And a swiftly growing sense of regret.
I've spent what I don't have
To forget how broke I am
And though I tried, what I gave
What just as little as the man.
I've disappeared and let you down
So I could cling to a dying town.
And friendships built on stone cold stares
And slightly dirty silverwear.
Why did I think I could come back here?
To everyone else it was blindingly clear.
We haven't stopped judging you and we never will
So go home to your sinners and take your pill.
My every particle knows I've done nothing wrong
So I'll smile and dance to your sickening beat.
But the optimism doesn't last very long.
And I don't know why I'm surprised by defeat.

Blooddrunk.

I'm blooddrunk love
I can feel my veins becoming bottles
And I'm emptying those bottle
Till all that's left are cigarettes and shame
And stolen words

I'm blooddrunk love
And pouring out my essence in a glass
I'm giving my creation in a crystal chalice
And I want yours
To flow across my lips

I'm holding your face in my hands
You're holding my heart in yours
We're trapped here.
In each others souls and we will take and take
Because we know
Oh we know.
We make each other Blooddrunk.

Black

Hush dear, quiet now.
You've used the silence before.
Sliced skin and souls with this soundless sword.
It is the symphony of broken worlds and weeping widows.
Can't you hear it?

Spilling from cracked lips
Polluting blood and eroding bones
Clouding eyes with emptiness, turning fingers numb
Slowly pulling apart bonds that were decreed by gods and universes
So very long ago.

Nothingness fills the air
Tainting every living breath and cry
Oh how they grasp at reality, cling to false idols.
The children tell stories of shadows, how they would quake if they knew
It was all real

It would be easy
To populate this endless void
Fill it with nightmares and leviathans
Evil deeds and creatures which we are already so intimate with
They call it Sin.

We could be Gods.
To obtain all that is to have
To crush and consume creation and colour.
Yet the taint of mortality is far to sweet to abandon, so we choose
To fall in love.

Can't you feel the fade?

I've searched, all the gods know I have searched

For the letters that make up the words

There are only 26 of them, how hard can it be?

But it seemed that no combination will suffice

So I remain silent. 

I want to tell you that I miss you

That I want to crawl inside your skin 

To find the darkness and destroy it

To fight the sickness and consume it

But only if you let me

There are no words for the ache 

Of helplessness, it's so feeble

I know you're strong, stronger than me

Perhaps I'm not strong enough to deal 

With your sadness.

It's selfish I know, this is yours

This song is yours to play,
This poem is your to write

Just let me read and hear it 

Just let me in.

Did we need those fumes?

Did we need those dreams?

Did we lose something?

Or is this just me?

Fading. 

Nightmares (a helpless cry)

I can't fucking do this.
Yet again I'm genuinely terrified of going to sleep.
"Its an odd thing to be scared of one owns subconscious" I've said that a lot when referring to my nightmares.
But it's not odd. Its terrifying and crippling and fucking dreadful.
I don't talk in plain words about my life very much on this blog but I'm sitting in the dark not tired, not sleepy, but exhausted body and mind by the sheer prospect of having to fall asleep.
To face, for annother night, my skin being peeled from my bones, the torture rape and murder of ny loved ones, the horrifying inescapable images that fill my head almost every night.
I know Ill dream about Sabbat and I don't want to let the deamons in my head take the good day I had a fuck with it.
I know it'll be bad tonight. I can feel it in my aching bones and I'm far to scarred to face it.
I woke up again this morning with a cut on my leg where my fingernails had dug in and drawn blood. These nightmares leave me with wounds for the daylight hours and I've never felt so helpless and scared in my life.
I don't want to discover nightmare marks on my skin when I wake up. I don't want to spend 8 hours a day in a hell made by my own mind.
And I sure as hell don't want to fall asleep tonight.
Fuck.

Just a Collection of Thoughts

The phrase 'an old soul' feels very out of place with me

My soul is just born, swirling through this world picking up filth 

Evolving, growing, burning until one day when my body erodes

It will either fade away or it will expand like a supernova burning out in the abyss until a thousand children stare up in the sky and wonder where those flickers of light come from.

Yet I feel as though my soul has been this age for ever. 

I do not quarry with it anymore. I do not flee its fire or question its existence or perhaps a better way of saying it would be that I do not need to understand the questions of its existence. It simply is, and if it is nothing at all, then that is what it is.
I am contented in the fact that these mere 18 years do not contain my soul in a feeble sense of 'young'. I am a creation of experience. The work of beautiful men and strong women, I am moulded, sculpted and brought into being by no other hands but my own.
I have breathed the air of many cites and many souls.
Perhaps I have known more that I have comprehended or perhaps I comprehend far less than I know.
But now for films and friends and pleasures and that's all I can really know in this odd mortal container that I know so intimately.
One day this might be foolish
One day I might know more, or less.
And that's just fine. 

Good Things Come in Three

A sweet song,
I think I'll have a cigarette soon
Inhale the deadly smoke into my lungs
And let it do it's work
I'll smile

A stupid dance
I should have breakfast soon
How odd this ritual of feelings and toast
I always feel better though,
After breakfast.

An old heart
Doesn't let things get to deep
Things cling to the surface, which means they
Fall of easier, tearing the edges
Which hurts

But they heal
And suddenly a bird sings
How odd that I can feel all better so quickly
Maybe its a kind of magic
Or music.

Words help
Letting things out. Black on white.
I suppose that good things come in threes
Love, Heartbreak and Rebirth
Waltzing.

.

I just want to crawl into a little ball
This fire burns to hot for me
I thought I could do this,
Fight through the derbies

I know you'll try and save me
But maybe that's not enough
You are fire too, my love
We burn hotter to the touch

I promised that I wouldn't cry
You see water is my foe
But it has become rage instead
And I have to let it go.

You are grounded love
In ways I can no longer be
I care to much for both of you
to stay, but I cannot leave.

You are fine, and I am fine
And that's the way we'll stay
Because if for no-one else but you
I will make it through today.

Shifting

Strange smoke, strange men, strange words
This is a world I have not ventured in before
Held breath, sharp glances, missed words
I am awash, the sea consumes me, I cannot see the shore.

The water is warm and comforting, it caresses my skin
The glimmer of the sun shimmers green through deep deep blues
Life is below, around, within me. It bumps against my skin
I know that soon the deep will claim me. I will pay my dues

I give up hope. I will submit for I have earned this fate
Then land appears, not on the horizon, but firm beneath my feet
Soft sand gives way and sweeps aside the endless waves
The ocean it has ceased to be. Gives way to a deserts heat.

The water has receded, from the horizon and from my bones
A white sky blazes above and the endless mountains sear beneath me
Vultures circle above. Their cry "Penance! Penance!"
Their black forms circle as I walk towards a haven I cannot know or see

"Penance!" The words ring in my ears, reverberate through my being
A heavy heart tells me I have earned this debt, but to whom?
"Penance!" Tears flow down my checks as I recall no sins
Then I know, it is the sin we have born since the womb.

Then I know what it is I must do. I've read this story before.
Here I must chose, will I be the Albatross or the Mariner?
I reach out one hand towards the scorched sky.
And the cry is silenced and I turn my back on the creator.

Now I walk the ice-y planes. The weight heavy around my neck
I survey the dead landscape before me, where life has forgotten how to breathe
But as the blood slowly stains my skin I do not grow weak
This darkness does not condemn, it is my reprieve.

Surely now I am beyond the reach of redemption.
There are no cathedrals in the waste of frozen humanity
I have done no wrong that centuries before me have not sealed in blood
I will allow not man nor beast nor god to pass judgement on me

I cast aside the vultures corpse, still blood-stained I embrace the land
It rises up to meet me, sharp crystals and clouded snow
I find the colours hidden in depths of the world, I will not reach up
But rather down, into the abyss, for it is all I know.