disaster in making

i used to tell myself, just get through the night and you’ll be okay. a lot of time has passed since and the mounting rot has been pleasurable for a reason unknown to me. the numbness in my fingers and toes has let me explore a rationally attractive man, it has let me look into his eyes, gouge it out with my pale, dark fingers without an ounce of disturbance in my fabric, let me wet it with moments of peace and put it back into his lonely sockets. perhaps this is what they meant - distance yourself from the emotional responses and you will experience love for what it truly is.

i am a hoarder of many things but of happiness.

i’m covered in soot as if i’m burning with the light of a thousand dying suns

their faces are bleak, they look at me as if i’m supposed to paint emotions on their faces

a monster chained for observation

at the end of the search for my heart, i’ll be left with two hearts, paralysed and finally together

it’s december and i’m struggling.

the only way to have something for an infinite time is by losing it

hypothetical shreds of the piece embedded every place i breathe in, infinitely small crumbs completing their own respective puzzles

a smell so familiar that i instantly become a devotee and declare Him as my God and my life a pilgrimage

a hostile expression on their faces as if someone reached inside their head and killed a happy memory

i draw lines across his heart and at each boundary line i also place dry wood and light the lines on fire and somewhere in the centre amidst the clouds of smoke and boundaries burning i make room for myself to sleep.

the fire drapes around me and i watch the war of emotions whilst standing in a pool of paint

i follow a spark in the air with my eyes, it's beauty is so ethereal that i get blinded, i get my vision back in a few seconds just to see that it had been sneakily burning the corners of my body.

the figure is like a cadence of beautiful events stitched together and it was finally my time to feel all the hypothetical memories in real-time.

everything of you evaporates and simultaneously condenses into his body

it's as if someone lit a million matchsticks creating a light so bright it's blinding