In the abyss we snuggle with our demons then send them out for coffee in the morning.
In the abyss we need no serenity.
Because you accept what is and what isn’t. Then throw change on the difference.
In the abyss, there is no reality or dreams. Just calming nightmares.
In the abyss, we strangle hope with our heart chords.
In the abyss, we never open our eyes.
In the abyss we don’t look for the light.
For only in the darkness does our skin glow.
In the abyss there are no reflections.
Just deflections of positive thoughts.
In the abyss there is no heartbreak.
Just the slow cranky hum of rusty pacemakers.
In the abyss there are no strings to hold us back.
In the abyss, the limit is every human.
In the abyss we write but never read.
For in the nuclear storm, we will be red all over.
In the abyss, we already survived WWIII.
In the abyss, we didn’t die, because we were never alive.
Love is pain and pain is love.
The dreams of your affections make the nightmares of your reality.
Tears that won’t drop burn the hottest.
They travel down your spirit and singe your singing soul.
Buzzing through the air are the tacks holding the pieces of your heart.
Because you made your “ifs” into “whens” and God laughed.
The masses take another snort of the opium.
Forgetting grace still outweighs faith.
A crooked smile is all you can manage for now.
Happiness remains a journey and not a goal.
Memories remain the only comfort we have.
Hand forced into accepting the fake disparity.
The hottest cuts burn the deepest.
Only this time you can’t drop and roll.
Cupid switched his arrow for a lawn dart.
Doubled the hurt and here is; love halved.
You carried the load, swallowed my effort and still no equilibrium.
Because I’d been on my knees seven times, this is the eighth.
Your last act, exit the stage and take a bow.
We win nothing today for the future has taken it all.
I used to dance to the beat your hips wove.
But sad feet have the same rhythm as if they were guilty.
Words no longer change this hard time to the softest
Your lips remain the elixir that made me whole.
The sunshine has refused to play its part.
Our dreams can no longer be photographed.
Our family was to be nuclear, I was the plutonium.
Now in this foetal position, all I need is a swathe.
Mutual means I have half the mind to allow.
I cannot answer it, but only make the call.