The colours of love like the beads of sweat that trickle down your thighs. The scent of war in my greasy hands and the taste of wet memories as headlights illuminate worn out figures with nowhere left to go. Writing takes me to an elevated state. Mix it with beer, and you’ve got the ingredients of a monster or some kind of wizard. Falling in love again with your image, it kicks me in the face. It reduces me to an exhibit in a jar. Yet it makes me stronger. Inhaling the fumes of your emotions, my heart beats just like it used to. Somewhere beneath this mess of a man, there’s a romantic soul who wants to treat you like a queen. Somewhere in this cracked shell, there’s a man who’ll do anything to see your smile again. I’m addicted to this magic, to the sensations that await me every night. When the doorway opens, and my guts are smeared across these pages, there’s no turning back. It gives me heaven and hell in the same breath. It fills me with a poison that takes me to edge of despair, only to save me seconds later. Maybe it’s a curse, or perhaps an excuse for a solitary fool to distance himself from those around him. Either way, there’s no escaping the way it makes me feel. At one with the gods, and in control of every last thing. Regret is banished. Anxiety pissed upon as the liquids flow heavy like an ocean. There’s no need to cry, just wrap yourself around me and trace my footsteps to a place they’ll never find. Open your mouth, and let me see your insides. Stretched across my bed, it’s not how physical you are, it’s how you think that turns me on. All those hopes and fears. All those tears that run down your cheeks- I’ll be feeding on every last one. Down every darkened street, and in every absent gaze, I’ll be moving around you invisibly, taking what I want. Madness, that’s what does it. All rhythm and rhymes tickled like your feet as you try hiding beneath warm bedsheets. This is my rifle; this is my gun. This is how it goes, so give yourself to me without restraint. Devotion breeds hunger and hunger leads to obsession. Want me, and I’ll make you immortal. Seek my dreams, and I’ll take you away from everything that hurts. Soft revolutions upon your neck. The quiet light that shimmers in through the open curtains. Close your eyes, and let me cradle you in my arms. I’ll be your keeper, I’ll be your man. A magician skirting insanity, a poet who yearns for the wonders of the night.
Categories: On Writing