Of Cyanide-Like Nectar...

My Heart is like the wind tonight,
Cold and damp,
for a second, almost still,
as I watch fire rush down my veins,
onto my fingertips,
and turn into wisps of smoke,
fading into oblivion,
like a faulty firecracker.

“Potion for your chills”, the Glass Beckons,
Warm, Trickling down my throat,
my demons stir, in the centre of my chest,
diminishing my brain and inflating my liver,
as I dance to songs never meant to be played.

Salivate, my Lips part,
I feel a million hands, move,
all over me, pining me down,
lifting me up,
and each holds a face, yet not one, a soul.
So I let them feed on my depleting portions,
as the filthy game ensues,
And I can’t recall the day, this pain became pleasurable.

Toes fidget as I writhe in my bed,
I hear noises in my sleep,
Ghosts pounding on my walls.
Mocking me, as they pass through my door,
Smirking as they draw the air out of my lungs,
as they Sit on my chest,
and Smack their Lips.

And I wake, gasping for breath,

“Your Alive”, the Mirror whispered
And the ugly reflection it was many yesterday’s ago,
is now an old friend.
Faint smile and accepting eyes,
we stare at each other,
two strangers on a desolate island,
with no way ahead but to fall in love,
even while they reminisce of their girl,
who etched hearts of fog on glass,
and smiled like the sun.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
The clock is still ticking in the distance,
like a time bomb, waiting to wipe us all out,
Fearless, I’m almost dead inside,
“Were you Ever Alive?” -  A Faceless Shadow in the Dark,
I wonder,
As I lie,
awake, alone,
In the City that Never Sleeps.

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