R.I.P.

“the tiny crumbs of bread,

were only to mark my trail”, cried

gretel collapsing to the floor

unruffled, they looked hansel in the eye

challenging him to turn against the pack

incognito

how can he let go

the maverick butterflies

he chased

to fractured bottles

when he barely

could walk,

knowing well

they can

only fly that high, that far

how can he let them

prosper in oblivion

so he thought

had her skin been as soft as her voice
they'd have played longer

the descendant

her pace

got brisker

towards

the end

each time

his pace

at best

steady

wonder if

she realised

the destination

was the journey

wonder if

he knew

too well

pillow talk

"is love not a battle fought

between the sheets?", argued

the man

"then ours is a

rapid-fire shootout", remarked

the woman

*and that night they slept

with their backs toward each other*

Play II

it’s not your independence

he is after

never was

it is your inherent nature

of remaining liberated

that frightened him

he backed his

ability to domesticate you

with his kisses and words,

some more words and

the promise of everlasting love

only to be let down

by the brewing fight

within you

of momentary

lust

he finally had no choice

but to strip himself

bare

to the bone

load. aim. fire. repeat.

her lips curl
upward
as she blinks
at his
fleeting
disregard
for her
existence
and he
barks
about
violently
to shatter
the silence
that followed
the decisive bullet
he shot
a year ago

animal farm: chapter ix

  i     am on top of

you

you

you   and

you

fall in line, you filthy pig!

*the pig turns his head in slow mo*

if only
this was
the last chapter.

*trumpet call*

malice in wonderland

have faith in your warm being

and it shall e x p l o d e into tiny splinters

on the tip of your finger
like a doe in heat

tip of the tongue

unleash the whip

work harder

it is still inked with

the ounce of blood lost

still a long, long

long way to go

before it is toasted

to satiate the palette

just about right

the illusionist

look at        disappear.

intimate affair #2

eye                 patch

           
           no         

           se

           

      upper lip

     gun barrel

      lower lip

noise factory

type

type

edit

read

delete

type

edit

read

edit

type

read

delete

type

edit

read

delete

undo delete

edit or send?

the mad hatter

         his head is
       under the hat
   you casually flung
on to the bustling street

follow me

look up

to the word

word

as the word

word

does not only

define words

but is a

word itself

the chosen one

mobbed by you,

me, her and them

he threw a punch

in their gut and

thundered

“hail me not, for I know

not what I have done”

and the crowd went berserk

with resounding cheer

and applause

into the woods

only with a mind

to shatter the

           did he

eventually scream

silence silence silence

silence silence silence

silence            silence

pied piper of dumblin

flow with them not

into the lap of tempatation

where the pen slips

slyly between the leaves

in and out, out and in (repeat)

only to spill the ink

and the crowd shall remember you

as the only one who dared

to follow his nose

tamed

he tread timidly along her murderous curves,

slipping into the fiery crevice, never to be seen again

high

the whore

wondered why

interested       the

                           man

          wasn’t

          and

    lap

he rather          her

put his head on

rested