Twisted.

Sick and twisted

why do I know you?

woke up to flooding

the water rose quickly

repose it did not show

cold and icy it overwhelmed 

I watch from the juxtaposing hill

empty inside

apathetic to the ruined halls

left in nausea 

something contracted

it shows no rise

Generosity

It was all of my energy, more that I wanted to give. I am empty. I won't give more  -Mirah

To Be.

To be.

Waning hours why do you taunt me?

Flames lick the walls

Time is not something we possess

Come quick, come soft

Beloved,

Kiss my lips

Comfort does not dwell here

Rip me open

Take what it is you came here for

Pierce me with waves of icy water

drown me, do it

do it now

Why do the flames behold such beauty?

That only the pity of tears can put them out?

Lay your flowers at my grave

Be free to shed your tears

There is no flame

For it is lost, burnt out and crushed

Only a weary land remains

Bones and skeletons of trees

The ashes of this rose

Will be my only condolence

The Unconscious

The Unconscious

these streets that I see

I do not know

though I can tell you

where to go

they understand

what you know to seek

something black and bleak

so dry no water can quench

yes, these streets can show you

though you are not the first to seek them

long past is its originality

even then a stolen idea

belonging to no one

being a collective conscious

of hate to drive out sin

unclean hands

to clean a wealthy hand

fit for no other but you

it was with this hand you sought me out

through muck and dirt

with which you covered my body

you asked so you shall know

here I am to give you way

to this path you so desperately seek

for these streets that I know

 yet I do not see

for what I would see

would break my heart

only those with shattered hearts

dare to seek this

perhaps truth or lies

that I do not know

for I travel with dagger in hand

to bleed this heart

shall which come to serve

I cannot trust

this heart will bleed

for I do not wish to know

I do not wish to know