Human

Nothing changes.

You become only more grotesquely inhuman with time.

Sometimes you're the sacrificial lamb,

Sometimes you're the butcher.

It all adds up, like an infinite loop.

A pattern.

Math/art.

Your consciousness warns you to stay within the limits, you're scared of losing your mind.

"How bad can it be?"

"How much can it hurt afterall?"

You've been through worse, you've been to hell and back. 

So you let the apathy and the indifference crawl into your skin, slowly, very slowly.

Remember the time you got jacked up on street drugs? Remember your reflection in the mirror as you were barely able to recognise yourself?

"Never again"

But you lie.

You keep waking up from the same nightmare and by now you've figured it out.

There is no escape.

It ends when you do. 

So you succumb to the stereotype.

Build your walls so high, lock yourself in your castle of solitude.

Brick by brick, mechanical like a machine.

Memories cemented with so much pain and suffering. 

You almost enjoy it don't you, you masochist.

It makes you happy, to cut yourself open and bleed like that.

'My pain is the only thing that makes me human.

Without it, I am nothing. My universe is a lie.'

"Let's watch the stars tonight."

You take his heart and break it, you have no intention of keeping him.

Oh you cruel little thing.

How dare you feel sorry for someone doing to you what you do to them.

Nothing changes.

You project only yourself onto others.

You are the only one, you are your salvation.

Your body is only a mere vehicle. 

"Infinite" 

"Deathless and birthless"

Search

it's a constant struggle,
striving to achieve the seemingly impossible.
i could turn out like Sixto,
but i don't have the talent, neither do i have the sensitivity.

sometimes i stay in bed for days when things don't go my way.
i let my illnesses get the better of me.
but i am human, so fragile.

tell me this is only a nightmare.
hands everywhere, hands that deflower me, rob me of my sense of self.
the road to recovery is too long and it takes only a second to give up.

feelings no longer make sense,
warriors fight alone.

i am
i am
i am every day, all the time
but who?

Saving Grace

There is a boy, I like it when we talk about the universe and stuff. 

I like it when we walk around town, hand in hand in the cool winter evenings.

I like it when we play our drunken games,

I like the way we kiss. 

But I am unable to give him my heart.

He'll leave when it's time and I know the exact drill by now.

It's strange how much this year has changed me, the walls are up and I don't have the strength to break them down on my own anymore.

If you wait, my little boy, I will give you my all.

Now is not the time, I need you to be a little more patient with me.

The universe has always given me signs, it has always made things right.

So what is it that I'm supposed to do now?!

Warpaint

And after he's gone I carefully examine myself in the mirror. I don't know where all the marks are from.

Was it him, or him, or him? 

Three too many. 

"Well done S, your studliness, even though just for a night, is infinite." 

It's a sort of poetic justice to end up ultimately, after all that fooling around, to end up with an old lover. There is a strange familiarity as we explore each other's bodies. I don't mind the feeling of comfort, I don't mind it at all. I check to see what time it is, there's still a while before we have to run back to our own lives. The night was long and the morning doesn't make me feel terrible about myself. I think about someone I clearly shouldn't be thinking about. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"
So I go back to sleep. I find it rather amusing that my aversion to cuddling is starting to fade away the older I grow.

Love, unlove.
Learn, unlearn.

There is retribution in knowing that spotting him in a crowd of thousands means nothing to me at all. I don't tumble, I don't fall. I don't give him a second glance. He's just another one to me now. I don't feel the need to venture out into the plebeian world, hoping to bump into him. I get a lot of love because I give a lot of love. There is a strange sense of calm, there is a strange sense of closure. Although this was not what I wanted, but I'll take whatever I can get at this point just so I can move on.

He may be a star and everything fancy.

But I'm no riffraff either. 

It's ironic that I get the things he so badly craves for, without even asking. 

As I sing my songs, I sing them for the people and I sing them for myself. My life has always been full of adventures and misadventures and he's just one of the many blurry faces that, quite frankly, don't deserve my validation.

Time changes everything. 

The universe works in mysterious ways indeed. 

How much grief can a heart hold, till it ruptures? 

Soul

I feel good every time it rains during the pujas.

A gentle reminder that you were around, if only for a while

As I sink deeper into this abyss, I wonder if this is what a breakdown feels like. If this really is one.

Everything seems so crystal clear in my head. The detachment no longer feels painful. The indifference barely hurts, like a scab it slowly heals.

The near is soon.

Zen is painful.

STYGGO

The Dandys play on loop.

I'm trying very hard not to think about you because every time I do, it breaks me.

So I wait.

Then I wait some more, for this pain to pass.

My mourning may be consistent but so is your indifference.

Fuck this shit.

Fuck your kisses and your general coolth. 

"Some things you gotta get over" I guess. 

Saudade

I'd promised myself that I wouldn't do lines.

But I don't want to go back to my hotel.

It's the exact same fucking room where I spent an entire night making love to someone.

I say love because we did not fuck that night.

He held my hand, he kissed me, he told me his stories.

He loved me till the break of dawn and he left.

There's a what's-his-face excitedly chatting me up.

But he doesn't interest me.

None of them do, anymore.

I don't have the strength to spend the night alone this time and neither do I want to invite someone only whose body I want to use to pass the time.

So I keep doing it till it's broad daylight outside and I have to head to the airport.

The alcohol numbs pain, or maybe the drugs.

At this point I don't care anymore.

Falling down is not a problem,

Getting back up is.

On some days I run around, happy like a child.

Some I spend in bed, rewinding all the events of these last few years in my head.

I haven't thought about this man for a long time and yet somehow once the alcohol's taken over, I do.

But I let my bruised sense of self overpower my longing.

You have to come to me, I'm back inside my shell and my walls are up again.

If not then it really isn't worth my time.

Or my faith.

You live, you learn. 

Bassinet

My pride, my instinct.

I don't want your validation.

I don't want your adoration.

My demons, my dreams.

I don't want your company.

I don't want your attention.

I can be your lover.

I cannot be your pet. 

Faith

My playlist has been the same for too long.

An unending loop.

So I've cleaned, I've cooked and I've done my laundry.

I've said goodbye to them all.

I can feel it all over again.

Maybe it is indeed time. 

I wish you wouldn't make me so desperate to join you.

But you were never the one to play fair. 

Let's Try This Again Later Sometime

I know how to cook a meal that doesn't involve the microwave.

I know how to clean, I know how to do my laundry.

I am learning about the universe, still, so that is probably a lifelong process.

I know how to read, I know how to write.

I know how to act perfectly domesticated.

I am still learning how much to give, how little to take. I am too young to have it all figured out.

And sometimes, all this learning, isn't such a good thing.

I find myself unable to let go of those who were never mine to begin with.

My heart is in knots.

I am unable to love.

I know how cowardly I am sometimes.

And yet, I don't want to change.

It's been a quarter of a century, I should know by now that I can't always have it all. 

Your hands remind me of a piano player I once knew.

It's magic when you run your fingers over my skin.

But you played me, oh you played me so well. 

Doctors and dancers, 

Scruffy cheeks and hearty smiles.

Some smell like men, some want to fornicate like animals.

I don't want any of them.

Please go fuck yourself. 

You don't know me, you don't want to.

Please go fuck yourself. 

Post Its for Lovers

I only ask for your love and your company.

You don't have to shower me with attention,

Validation,

Gifts and other such spectacles.

Ravage my body as much as you want.

But be gentle when you break my heart.

I am an object of love, lust and yearning.

Don't bring out the monsters inside of me.

Float

I don't think I can do it anymore,

Stay afloat.

The ocean is deep and I don't know how to swim.

I should have taken those swimming lessons when I had the chance.

Piano too.

But they don't teach you the important things in school.

The thin line that separates;

Insanity and satiation,

Love and consent.

The cat downstairs needs to be fed.

The sheets have to be washed, changed.

The adventures never really stop, there is always only a brief pause. 

I am my own life jacket, you don't really have to save me. 

I got my legs wrapped around your head.

Kiss me, taste me.

Do you feel the rush yet?

I got my heart locked inside a cage.

Or maybe it doesn't exist anymore.

He took it with him when he left. 

Made For Love

It's a scene I know only too well.

Familiar faces, slightly blurry and drunk.

Beautiful songs, the guitars ring well into dawn.

The weight of the world is no longer on my shoulders.

And all the pain disappears for a second.

Not mine, but I'm home.