The End 15-8-15

We enter the room.
Car running in the center,
Fuel tank pierced,
Petrol dripping.
He sits in the driver’s seat,
You sit next to him.
I find a match,
A small piece of wood
And with the first
I light the second.
Wood, unlit end first
Pushed under the car.
I get in the backseat.
I cry, I'm scared.
You look back.
You nod.
Smoke. No flames.
No noise.
No end.


We enter the room.
Car running in the center,
Fuel take pierced,
Petrol dripping.
You take my hand
Comforting my cries.
I nod.
He sits in the driver’s seat.
You sit in the passenger’s seat.
I light a plank of wood,
I place it below the car.
I sit in the backseat.
I wait and wait.
I'm crying and crying.
You reach back.
You give me your hand.
You tell me you're sure,
That you'll be there,
You'll hold my hand to the end.
That you've seen it,
The cruelty of the world,
That it's enough.
We wait.
No smoke, no fire.
No end.


We enter the room.
Car running in the center,
Fuel tank pierced,
Petrol dripping.
You hold me close.
Lead me to the backseat.
I sit, crying and broken.
You sit beside me,
Warm, comforting.
You hold me while the pain
Escapes through the silent,
Distraught, and shattered sobs.
He used the wood,
To trail,
Line,
Trace.
The petrol, his instrument,
The final piece of art.
He lights the end.
He walks to the car.
He sits in the driver’s seat.
You stroke my hair as you watch
Flames dancing in smaller circles
That stop. Too Early.
No continuance.
No End.


We enter the room.
Car running in the center,
Fuel tank pierced.
Petrol dripping.
You tell me it's okay.
I listen.
He takes my hand.
He leads me forward.
He knows what comes after.
You sit in the driver’s seat.
He and I trail the petrol.
One straight line.
We light the end.
He sits in the backseat.
I sit next to him.
Calm, collected.
You say nothing.
You mean nothing.
You show nothing.
He holds me in an embrace.
Kisses the top of my head.
Tightens his grip around me.
I know he loves me.
You mean nothing in your silence.
I look at you,
Silently beg for a word,
A murmur, a mumble.
I ask for your hand.
You move.
​You open the door.
I beg you with my tears.
You put your leg out.
I crumple into him.
You leave the car.
His grip holds me.
I call out your name.
He comforts me.
You walk away.
He wipes every tear.
You pause once.
I look up.
You walk on.
He pulls me closer.
You leave the room.
The fire spreads,
Engulfs - Consumes.
You close the door.
You regret.

The car explodes.
The flames dominate.
He guides me on.
He knows this place.
He tells me he missed me.
I grip his hand.
This is it.
The End.

Words

Have you run out of words?
Is that why there is silence,
Empty, cold silence?
Let me in, let me know,
It's fair to assume I'll be there,
I'm always here.
Just Tell me.
Use your words.
The words I fondly look into,
The words I see move slowly,
Let their warmth back, please.
Speak the truth, or even lie,
Anything is better than nothing!
Everything is better than nothing,
Silence, like this, is unbearable.
You can even tell me to go,
I happily will,
Just break the silence

Indescribable

If it were only possible,
I would put it in a way,
A concise, simple way,
Then you'd understand.
Then you'd know the fear,
Of drowning with no water,
When no droplets are present.
Of feeling the air, empty,
Leave your lungs,
With no replacement breath.
Then you'd see,
That black shroud of an umbrella,
I carry around with me.
It doesn't close, won't or can't.
I'm always under its covers.
Then you'd notice it,
When the sun shines through,
I reach for it, try to grab it.
But also how I hurt,
When I can't take any with me.
How terrible it is to see joy,
Knowing how good it feels,
But no feeling it.

Then you'd feel the terror,
The pure horror of loneliness.
The madness it ensues,
The longing it forms inside.
But also the pain it causes,
When the mind turns to itself,
Filled only with hate,
Wishing for pain. Then the guilt,
Not for sin, for selfishness.
Knowing others would be better
At living this life than you,
And yet, wanting so badly,
Not to have it anymore.

Cream White

Cream white skin,
They possessed,
Innocence, purity, trust,
Why must children possess
Everything you desire?
They are perfection, perfection,
Yet you seek to destroy them.

When they sleep,
Only dreams should grace them,
Not fear, not torment,
Just dreams,
Of new bikes, toys, happiness.

They are perfect,
Not worth giving any pain,
Perfect, beautiful,
They don't deserve it.

Yet you hurt them,
destroy their innocence,
Burn their purity,
Torture the child,
Kill their absolution.

They are beautiful,
Gorgeous, children,
Even after you're pain.
And no-one could stop it.
You hurt them.
You destroy their person-hood,
Their lives
And no-one can give that back.
NO ONE

Tell Me

You listen,
Do words make sense?
Does it put you at ease?
Do you enjoy it?
Whose pain are you treating?
Do you hurt any less?
Does it help?
Is your mind not burning?
Does your head not spin?
Do you need confessions?
Does it make you thrive?
I need to know,
Does that keep you alive?
Would you share all your secrets?
Or at least tell me?
Or would you just listen?
Listen to my pain, and add it to yours?
Or maybe you don't?
Are you really listening?
Do you realise I'm talking?
Do you hear those painful things?
Do you hear what she is saying?
Do you realise she's broken?
Do you see she's shattered?
Are your eyes not open?
Can't you tell it's deeper?
That something's missing?
A meaning behind pain?
Or maybe not.

Time to Stop Talking

Sometimes I need to,
Sometimes I can't say,
All of the most important things.
But I think that now,
It's time to stop talking.
I need not to run my mouth,
I need not to say all those things,
Because soon,
You'll start to hate me,
If you don't already,
And if you do already,
That's justified
But I think that now,
It's time to stop talking.