thoughts and longings...

And like me, at the end, it doesn't.

It has an intricate understanding to it.

Once understood, you can never look at it the same again.

When ignored, it rots on the pages.

You chain me in your love and in every little thing that you say,

You wish to see yourself in my face,

But all I can do is shrink away.

Mother, I was the drowning canvas and you were the paint,

All you did, I never saw what I became.

All I was, was your creation, signed in your name.

It all traces back to you.

My heart sings your name,

And I let it pray.

What is love? If not your face.

What is love? If not my pain.

What is love?

If not me and you.

What is love,

If not everything I do for you.

Love is,

What I feel for you.

For you.

With you.

You.

Yes, it takes away everything in the name of love and leaves us bleeding under a sky that never speaks.

Yes, hope is cruel. 

Yes, it has committed unforgivable crimes.

But oh, isn't it gorgeous?

I'm laying on the floor, bleeding into the cracks of the spiral shaped tiles.

Begging, crying, hoping.

Don't I look gorgeous?

It grows larger every year.

But I still remain ten.

Fly or they'll strip your wings for being too wide.

Too free.

Too ugly to be considered a pretty bird.

Fly and never return.

This wicked place eats all that stands.

They don't bother with funerals.

The ashes are like dirt to them.

Fly little crow.

For once they catch you, you'll end up buried in the ground with nothing to remember.

Fly, fly, fly.

Spread your wings into the sky and let the wind be one with you.

Don't look back.

Their torches are lit and sharp are their spears.

They're waiting to catch you off guard.

Fly fly fly.

Never return to this haunted place.

They don't love you here.

They just want your flesh.

In the quietest corners, in the shadows they've slaughtered lambs,

In the night where the crows sing.

You and I meet in forgotten dreams,

Sweet sins and through chained limbs,

We see and we hold,

One glance, to a century and more.

While in others, I am nothing at all.

It takes me up by my soul and pulls me in,

You'll be safe here she says, you'll be safe.

There's no one to see, no one to question, no one to tell you to be a certain way.

Rest here and you'll be free.

Sleep in the void of where it all began and you'll be free.

What is she truly?

A terrifying nothingness that devours, or just a mother putting her child to sleep?

I have been more destructive than I have been sensitive.

It's a condition of the most delicate of things I believe,

To be a rose, with it's branches full of thorns and,

To be a lamb made for slaughter.

They exist together, the kindest heart and the cruelest fate.

As I wish, I drown.

I am a well of wishes.

A place full of things left unsaid.

Darkness surrounds me as it pulls me to sleep.

The wishes go along, quiet and steady, into the unknown.

No one will ever know.

They will never know the truth of things my heart held onto.

They will never know how deep this well goes.

How deep my well goes.

I am a well full of wishes.

And in me, I drown.

You go far away from me.

I watch you disappear within yourself, a palace with no doors, no windows.

A gorgeous palace indeed.

I stare at the slight curve of your nose and wish that one day, you'd take me too.

Within you, a place of no escape, so I too can be trapped in your mind.

You wouldn't be alone then,

I'd spend eternity within the confines of your chains.

Until then, I gaze at your face and wait for you to return to me.

It will take time, and I am patient.

Afterall, you always return to me when our eyes meet.

I die and the want lives.

Only the want lives.

As long as I carry it in my heart, it beats.

When I let it go, it returns.

It needs me to stay alive, just like I need it.

When a corpse rots, it rots from the inside out.

Where are you rotting?

Is it really around you?

Or you made it that way to escape the rust present in your heart?

It speaks more to me than my beliefs, my religion.

This moment, speaks more to me than my god.

And I worship it.

I worship this silence, this wind, where the vastness of the sky bows.

I worship this moment, which is now, as all that exists, exists in it.