my darkness calls to you

My darkness calls to you like no other,

Time and time again,
We find ourselves back again,
Under the street lights,

In between the desperate and shameful,
Under the broken neon lights,
Casting a dull glow over the bar stools we stain,
Can you hear me?

There’s nothing to fight this,
We tried…walking, running,
Crawling away
I’m lonely,
And you know how to fix me without my telling,

Such a strong words to broken hearts like ours,
But we make it work with the cracks and bite marks.
Bury yourselves in my under those broken neon lights,
And I promise to make my darkness sing your praises.


sing it with me

Just to keep you by my side,
Keep you hanging on the threads I weave,
I can’t tell whose we started to believe more,
The world or ours,

They keep us tangled,
Keep hurting me,
In the best way,
Because I believe your stories,
Believe in the tales you spin,
Until I drown in them,
And paint me more of those pretty pictures,
Creating the image in my head,
My throat is caught in the web,
The silk tightening until it’s all I inhale,

Lay with me lover,
And tell me all the things that you never believed,
And I’ll weave my claws into you just a little more,
Singing the pain away one note at a time…

Hazy mornings

Hot and heavy,

All I feel is your breath on me, tracing the path down, down, and down,

Just grazing over that spot I need you touch. Desperately. God, please. Anything. Just a touch, god I can’t take it.

You smirk, like you know exactly how you effect me.

This little game has gone on long enough.

Tangled sheets, I can’t remember who held out longer, but my vision goes haze when you finally sink your teeth in. Oh….

Hot and heavy,

All I feel is that burning desire. And I need you fuck me. Now.

Oh baby, and you think I’m the tease…

What is it to you?

It’s the thing that keeps you up at night,

Jolting from your bed, eyes wide is a panic, Blindly search the darkness for something to cling to.

You’re quite. The only thing you hear, feel, is the pounding of your heart, the tremors that you can’t seem to shake.

A thrill you hate, but relish in it every time.

It’s the thing that won’t let you fall back to sleep, still thinking still wondering. It’s grips your mind and you can’t stray for long.

It’s the thing that has you staring into the darkness. The same one you cling to when you’re blinded, if only for your sanity. Tearing at a piece of mind. Your peace.

It’s the thing that…the thing you can’t let go of, because you don’t want to. Well, want is a strong word. You don’t let go. Because what if you can’t get it back.

It’s the thing you don’t know what you’ll do without.

What is it to you?


With all the lights gone,
Only shadows remain,

Some good, others carrying the weight of the chaos and destruction with them,
Each waiting in the fallen pieces of me,

Creeping up,
Ready for me to collapse under their weight.

Doubt is a funny thing,
Lingering like the shadows,

But worse, I suppose,
Because the doubt doesn’t dissipate when I turn the lights on,

It doesn’t linger,
It stays and wallows with me,

Waiting for me to collapse under its weight.
Love is the same,

Hidden in the most unexpected places,
Never where I want it to be,

And always where it needs to be
Even when I don’t want it.

But such is life,
Never following the plan or set motion,

Letting love flow and move with the moo and her tides,
Never allowing its weight to crush you,

Holding you when you collapse from everything else.


Filtered shadows

Carved out in the slips of light left behind by the suns rays.

It’s where I know you’ll be, waiting and ready to greet me after a horrid day, a place to rest my head when I can’t hold it high.

Waiting for me to escape, vent and cry, if only to make myself feel better. Because I know you’ll never judge, with open arms and kind eyes.

Hold me a little while longer, my solace, my sanity and my home. Forever waiting in my shadow. Filtering through the mess we call life .

Carved in between the good and bad, the safest place I’ll ever find. Thanks to you.

A message to the stars (pt 3)

It’s five in the morning, and I’m penning lines down, trying to recapture what we had in paper. Most love stories don’t have happy endings, and I’m beginning to realize that now. Once, the idealist in me thought we’d dance to the rhythm of strong passion forever, never missing a step. But looking back, I realize that we’ve stepped on each other’s toes way too often while we waltzed, and the only way out now is through the guilt and pain. I look outside the window and find the twilight capturing an aging bramble. It’s full of thorns and has seen the seasons of its life. I believe that we, like it, can’t be redeemed, and all that’s left is to stop pining over each other and move on, as hard as it may be, unless fate grants us a miracle. 

It’s midnight and the words only come to thought because I won’t, can’t write them down. It’s too much, I want to be down with you, this, us. It’s all too much, I’m just tired. Tired of wishing it wasn’t this way, Tired of wishing it was worse, so then at least I’d have something more to complain and whine about. I can’t help but to feel it was meant to be this way, for the best, for the both of us. Because, that’s what my heart says, what my mind concluded, and what I need to be the reality of this. We were like the stars, those same one we talked so much to, the same ones that I look up when I need to be reminded of you. But like those stars we burned and burned, falling only to shatter and our pieces scattered in the wind. I can’t be tied down, neither can you, so let’s take a page from the stars that range free and beautiful and be remembered for what we created when we exploded in the sky.