Once I roamed around this Earth, alone with the fear of falling.
I existed amongst the living as a solitary ghost, alone, depressed and crawling.
The fear was such a little fear,
but still had room for decay.
I knew fondly of this thing called love, but knew it never would be mine, my problems never at bay.
Upon the shining bust of confidence, I found you at my door.
I’d never seen someone so close to a mirror image, your eyes I could not ignore.
Months and months spent so dear, sharing thoughts of the in-between and nothing up above.
I now know this feeling, this fear of falling…
I’ve found that thing called love.

© Copyright June 2011


Casual Monster

I want to tear you the fuck apart.
Mangle and destroy your insides,
sifting through your broken ribs,
face deep in your blood.
I’m at a loss for words, as to how you ended up a mutilated and sacred mess upon my apartment floor.
It’s just the type of person I am.
One minute you were speaking freely, the next you were struggling to stay conscious, begging for your life.
My polished hardwood shines with the thick substance of blood and loathing, I fucking hate the person you’ve become.
Who knew the evening would end like this?
I foresaw this turn of events the moment I looked into your eyes.
I’ve hacked away every piece of skin, the very fibers of your existence, warm and fresh.
Your petty insides desperately strewn amongst your decapitated corpse, I chose right for the killing.
I struggle for a moment to keep down parts of the flesh and meat I’ve ingested.
The bottle of wine on the counter next to what’s left of your head probably isn’t helping, my own head pounds.
I bathe in the light of my coming clarity, this hunger will never be tamed.
Like my hate for you and everyone around me, it claws at my cavity,
waiting to be let out of its confines.
A skeleton cage that beats quicker still, my heart pumps hard, but I feel no emotion.
I have no conscience, cannot comprehend the human connections I fake so goddamn well.
I was damned from the beginning,
and you were dead the minute you said hello.
I sit in my solitude, fashioning your blood as wine.
Heated and wild, a deadly combination of blood lust and aesthetic beauty.
I would give anything to relive these sacrifices as I rot in Hell,
one right after the other.
I want to tear you the fuck apart.
I already have, it’s the only thing I’m good at anymore.

© Copyright June 2011