. .i'm Dying To Reach You

„. .i'm dying to reach you

i'll beg you to stay

but , you don't believe me

so i'll run away. ."

in a violent nature. .

I get it when people avoid me. I don’t even want myself around.

„. .[do // if] you think that it's time [to // then] let our lives divide. ."

i am a rabid animal lurking in the woods, and you are the smoke that pours from the mouth of a rifle. the last remnant of my existence, before i am dead and dragged away / the smell of you. i can be a bleeding wound in the hide of a beast, and you can be the snow that stains red. the colour of something alive when you rip it open. the colour of love.

i am not a good thing / i get on my knees and beg you for things like the devil begs a believer to sin. i wish you would stick a blade in me and carve me up. i wish you would wear claws on your nails and tear me up like i am sand and you are looking for something buried beneath my skin. i wish i could pour your scent into my lungs and survive.

you made me feel something once and i have been searching for it in you ever since. maybe if you get a handgun and gut me with the barrel, i would feel it again. you can stab me and fall back when i say nothing. i’ll clean the scrapes on your skin with brandy and kiss the gauze a blotted sunset-red before i lay it over the wound. if we were stranded on a desert island, i would cut my thigh in two for you to eat.

consume me. destroy me. make me feel something again. i’m running out of ideas.

or maybe i just need to lay my head on your shoulder in a dark place with distant lights throwing delicate shadows over the slants of your face again. maybe i just need soft music, smooth-handed heat and blood in my mouth, and i will know that i am surrendering myself the right way.

be the bullet that shatters my clavicle. be the incense that burns in the realm beyond death. be the grip on my ankles / drag me into the void and tell me nothing’s gonna hurt me while you do it. say it to me. mon cœur qui bat, toi.

i want to kill everything we ever were.

damage , contort and , torment the memories beyond repair. .

and , as they fade , slowly bleeding out across the creases of my brain. .i'll bury the pieces in the deepest parts of my forest of a mind-scape.

6ft. under the carcasses of passed trauma. .

where no soul , split or , demon could ever sniff them out and , recall a time where we were once happy. .together. .

nor , indulge upon the sickness of keepsake trophies. .toxic reminding representations of when things took a turn for the worse. .

shoving my face into it , as if to waterboard a dog in an apple-bobbing barrel of its own piss.

bc it deserves penance for its mistakes , misjudgments and , falsities .

i am the heartfelt valentine . i am the black dog , cerberus . we are a fissured tree and , i know what i deserve to be is. .

crucified.

put down.

slit at the stump.

sOo. ., i suppose penance doesn't end at the memories alone. .but , lies at an eternal rest of my own .

make no mistake , this isn't an excuse to escape bearing the pain of my wrong doings.

i am simply stating that this very soul has no right to make amends.

the chance wasn't missed , it hadn't evaporated. .

it is still born. .and , in order to right this wrong..

i bury myself alongside my offspring of an opportunity at true happiness with you .

praying to our god , gods and , goddesses that my recycled soul will finally. .

„get that fucking grip"

. .get it right in the next fucking life.

here i sit pensively.

contemplating my lack of options. ..as i hover the restart button.