Hate

The weight of hate, is too heavy to hold.
Lost in an illusion of lead turned to gold.
It deadens my heart with its poisonous grip.
Forcing my soul to abandoned ship.
So my ghost sails on, unfurling the rope.
That drags out behind, never snagging on hope.
Yet your lighthouse before me, beckons my fate.
You full of light, will surely banish my hate.

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Disperse

It came with no warning at all.
As I stood in place, hoping it would evaporate.
But down to the marrow it went, like a hungry ghost.
Feeding on my sadness.
As i watched you disappear.
Wishful thinking, I was already dead.
For nobody finds hope in tears that run red.

Hurry this nirvana

How long had you been sleeping?
In a pool of your own happiness.
Licking the chops of the beasts that sleep.
How anointed of you, to kiss my sandalwood feet.
To stare into the eyes of god and see nothing.
To see only stars, being born again and again.
Your skin cracks and bleeds rose water.
These eyes that tighten with every word from your lips.
Coughing up daises, pulling the leash you keep the world on.
They’d love to hate you.
Sneaking just a peak at your tolerance.
Dousing everything in oil and honour.
Lighting little fires in the dark pools of their souls.
Divine is defined by your existence.
Regret is stained by your ghost.

Surviving is the best revenge

Into the bath he jumped fully clothed.
The water boiled, and curled his toes.
It shed his skin, his hair, his eyes.
But acid, not water burnt away both his thighs.
A ghastly end, but one incomplete.
For his bones remained from head to feet.
So out he jumped, forgetting his pride.
Down the plug the water went, with his thoughts of suicide.
And in the mirror glaring back.
Was his bleached white skeleton, from front to back.
He saw his skull, its sockets so deep.
Out of his mouth a little whimper did creep.
But not one to dither, or dwell in his state.
He ran down the stairs, and out the front gate.
And he came to the house that had made him so morose.
And he slipped through the door, as quiet as a ghost.
He crept up the stair, to where he knew he would find them.
And he brought out some rope, and some tape so to bind them.
Both lovers were sleeping, intertwined while they dreamt.
Their hair and their clothes, all wild and unkempt.
So he tied them together, then he set fire to the bed.
He watched as the flames roared up to their heads.
But before they departed, before their own bones were charred.
He slipped off his fibular to play a tuneful bon voyage.

Hesitant heartbeats

Why do you leave me wanting more?
A burning desire, a pound of flesh.
I don’t know why you’re so mean to me. I no longer hear you down the telephone.
Spiritual static and a ghostly murmurs.
The art of disappearing, begin these tears of mourning.
Come find me, I am there also. Pretending not to be seen, fading to grey.
I’m feeling it my heartbeat. The pounding fury, like angry regrets marching from the past.
You keep this going, all night long.
I used to find beauty in your anger, like a funeral surrounding death.
Black lace and candles.
But this indifference, this distrust and distaste leaves me empty.
Purged and rotting like a shipwreck crumbling in the salty tears.
Can you feel it too, in my heartbeat? Come close, put your hands on my skin.
Don’t you know, won’t you see?
Listen.
It’s my heart breaking.
A tiny collapse like a lone tree in a huge forest of uncertainty.
Reach in, and electrocute it back with your spark of wonder.