I'm not sad,
Only how the eyes sweat,
From this heart's toil...

Subterfuge

A spectrum of human emotions,
Red was never my colour,
Moth to a flame,
Along you came,
Now you've gifted me anger's hue
All this red will dye my heart an icy, cold blue

Frozen crystals on the cheeks,
Sweat trapped beneath cold skin,
Warm memories escaping vapidly,
Red help me be whole again

What's love but this life's inferno...
Abandon hope all ye who enter
(In the least, note thee thine nearest exit)

A day for love they say,
I look through photographs,
From time long gone and gone again,
I gorge on self loathing feeding
On the ruins of my self,
All that was once shiny and good
Has been plundered and lost
Worst kind of gambler and chorincally irreverent,
Ive bet it all and lost it all,
Around the curb you'll find me,
If you look carefully, and see past the grime,
Take a good look - say oh how the mighty have fallen!
It's a day for love they say,
It eludes me, it eludes me in every way

Some day, not far from now,
You will lie against the softness,
Of a woman's breasts and whisper
to her the things that I did to you,
And she will hold you like I do,
And think that she will be different

A buzzing in my ear,
A voice that says, 
'you could end this'
'you don't have to keep going'
'imagine: never having to open your eyes again'

I swat at it, hastily chase it away,
No, not when there are small hands,
That need to go around me each night
Swat, swat, swat, swat them away

But I acknowledge the buzzing,
I see it looming around me,
Tempting me with the thought of release,

I could sew up the tears of course,
But it feels like old, worn, fabric,
It's split everywhere, gaping mouths,
Open in eternal despair,
Where do I begin? How do I pack it all in?

What's inside is too large to hold,
It pushes past toad eyes,
It saturates and exiles each hair,
It seeps tellingly into the skin,
It bulges into layers of excess,
It threatens to rip, it promises a kill

I hear the buzzing,
Maybe it won't kill me, maybe it will.

Thespianism vs Hystrioncs

Dear diary,

I'm pretending to be happy,
I'm bringing the fucking sunshine,
I'm shitting them fucking rainbows,
I'm dancing the twisted foxtrot,
I'm reining the torched up lowlands,
I'm biting the cursed red apple,
I'm lapping the withering daylight
I'm winning the voluptuous nothings,

21 days makes anything a habit,
I may be losing my own fucking bet...