Monday, April 7, 2014


Like ink spill on a parchment
makes shapes, accidental but meaningful

I oft find myself in vomited words words
written in hurried hand on sultry nights

Page by page I recite a fruitless attempt
at satiating a narcissistic hunger

of getting to know that girl in the mirror
the one people are fond and wary of at the same time

...and so am I

Like a poignant seizing fever it engulfs me
excruciating, drugging, piercing but absorbing

I oft find myself in half hearted sketches
blotted in charcoal and paper cutting strokes

I choke as she clutches at my tongue,
in her attempt to escape the capsule of my body

but she is slated to be captive
there are vengeful crows about

waiting to tear up her flesh but she,
she is a fighter this one,

...and so am I

I am calm,
I am chaos,
I am my own doing.

I close my eyes,
I plunge within,
I find her...

I find, myself.