Love Your Tumor

You said you want to
Kiss the wound
that is my mouth.
You would
suck away the
cosmic, eternal
darkness
into
you.

I love you,
but

The Girl Who Had Maggots

Once upon a time, there lived a girl who was in love. And when her love died, she had him encased in the concourse of her mind and would not let him go. Soon, the corpse began to fester and maggots infested her mind.

The maggots originated from the soft tissues of her brain. Slowly, leisurely, they ate her brain as she slept. And sleep she did often. When she cried the maggots wriggled out from the corner of her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Still, she did not notice the maggots because they were clever: eating her brain tiny bit by tiny bit so that she felt nothing. But they were breeding now, and the maggot babies were hard to control. They cried and they wanted more.

One day, she woke up with a splitting headache and was left with no choice but to call the doctor. The doctor came and felt her head and pronounced that a surgery was to be taken place immediately. She consented. And when the doctor had her head cut open, the maggots came squirming and writhing out, their pale white bodies intertwined like lovers'. The doctor gently wiped away the maggots to reveal a moiety of brain left.

The girl died. And so did the maggots.

Goodbye Darling

Your love left blisters on
my heart,
your breath stained
my skin.
And now you say
you would leave.
Again.

Alright
you may go.
But first,
could you please
find me a donor -
I can't grow
another new heart
anymore.

I Miss You

I miss you.
And all I am breathing are thoughts.
I gasp and splutter and there is no
air. Only dense clouds of
memories.

The little droplets of anguish run
like blood - rolling and tumbling onto each other
they clot into masses of black and they
choke me
to the point of delirium.

In my lugubrious dose of morbidity
I cried with a thousand eyes.
I wander alone
in the reverberating hollow concourse
of your absence:
missing you and hating you
to the point of death.

The Fall

I'm plummeting. Through a depth that only nightmare can fathom. An emptiness so perfect we can't conceive of. And I'm falling fast.

Insomnia

The nights would not let me sleep;
the daylight blinded me.
I am left to stagnate, vegetate
and to regress.

Purge my mind from skin to bones,
disrobe me from it:

for such thoughts I have;

of the grotesque and the deplorable
that would consume me whole and alive.

Would that I could be empty breasted again -
breathe freely as though the particles
of air would not choke me to death.
And my heart of flesh and blood
does not weigh like gold.

Yet the hellish din would abide, issuing
from lips burned black of thirst
to murmur the most egregious words
from which rang the ugly truth.

Deepest and Darkest

If I could be cradled in sea shells
And float through the millennium of nights;
Alone and forgotten, but infinitely
free - free as I had never been,
from the alien hurt
and from you.

I've loved you too long -
my soul is bloated and
swollen for feasting on you:
My dark prince,
you hold too much darkness and I
inhaled too much of you.

Of black I know too well.
Viscous and tenacious it clings
so possessively to me, to my
body and my bones: like
tendons and ligaments
and tongue and toes.

If I could be lulled by the whisperings
and sleep through an eternity;
uncomprehending and dispassionate, but
still, living and breathing
as I had never been.

But You Know I'm a Liar

Remember those nights when

we are alone in the world? We are
all that matters, we see only
each other. Your heart and mine,
beating in the ancient rhythm,
the sacred dance.

Remember when your love is
written on my skin? When we were happy and snug
in each others' arms? Remember when there is only
the silent breath in and out of
your lovely mouth.

I could say I no longer love you.
That I don't dream of your
fingertips on my skin. That my mouth
Doesn't feel empty and abysmal
Without your thrashing tongue.

I could say I've forgotten you.
Or I don't miss you.
Or even I hate you.
Because I can never say
I love you.

(not) a love story

It seems that I've gotten used to loving you without having you around. Those bitter days spent longing for you: for your chin resting on top of my head, for your fingers interlaced with mine, for your arm draped around my shoulder; those days are stacked in the darkest corner of my subconscious mind.

Once a while on a rainy day I leaf through the yearnings, the pangs of desire that arched my body and stole my soul - because that's what you do to me.

When a star dies it forms a black hole that sucks everything, even light into its abysmal void. And that's what your absence is like - a black hole, obliterating my innards and my soul, even the light of my life into an event horizon. It sucks and pulls and pulls and sucks until I lie as empty as a shell.

Even if I tried to forget you, even if I have you incarcerated in the dustiest room of my mind, you would've seeped between cracks under doors and through keyholes. And as though in revenge you would've haunted me night and day, with your face imprinted on the back of my lids, so that even in sleep I dreamt of you.

And I would've hated myself for being willing to continue loving you in misery, just for the smallest chance that you would love me too.

This Is How It Is

Note: Written for Jemmy to be given to Y.

I love you the way

Waves love the shore. 

There were times

when I was filled 

to the brim with tender love. I 

Loved you gently and I wanted

You

In my arms.

There were times 

when my love seemed like a 

hurricane: urgent and unrestrainable

I 

Thought of you

All night. 

But if you asked me

Why I loved you,

I would've had no idea

Other than I love you

And I do, I do.