My life still stuck on pause, as I clean damage you’ve caused.

A crow caws near the window, fates innuendo?

Heartbeat lacks a tempo, like that of a widow’s

Weeping like willows, I use my leaves roll up trees till’ anxiety’s ease then quietly scream in my pillow!

Am I to believe, you straight lied through your teeth?

Lies you conceived, are like hives full of bees your loving is sweet, till’ it leaves then it stings!

Used my self esteem like a puppeteer’s strings, made your fool with each pull capable of such terrible things!

A monster, a menace, a heart torn then transformed to a beautiful tempest!

Her nature’s relentless, please save her prevent this!

My self sacrificed, for the life of somebody else with nobody’s help who’s only self interest is maintaining what little she has left of her mental health….

Do not cry for me, I am invisible to women

attraction failing on the simplist of levels

It's just the biological fate of ordinary men

It is my misfortunate to be able to look and not touch

but that's just the way it is

Do not cry for me, I am invisible to women

Should I mimic the sterotypes of a generation?

Should I rage against an unmovable machine?

It's just the biological fate of ordinary men

Shall you implore me to improve myself?

As if it is possible to improve uncontrollable stats

Do not cry for me, I am invisible to women

I do not feel sorry for myself and nor should you

reproach me for my social failures but

Do not cry for me, I am invisible to women

It's just the biological fate of ordinary men

you're a beautiful chaos,

insanity woven into something breathtaking

- Anna Rose

so that none of you can find me

I walked the snowy roads

of dusty towns

passed by deadbeat drunkards

lizard prostitutes

with tongues so sticky they leave a mark on your soul

I walked barefoot

or wore Chanel boots

took the Louboutins to work

only to realize

I needed a spare key

to the bathroom

I told my lover as we lie in bed

feeling distracted

from the world outside

my fingers tracing his spikes

his spinal cord a mess of broken college sport dreams

and nights spent hugging his dead mother

I'll build a castle

I said

it will be tall

icy

cold

mine

shaped like a busy intern

a horn

not like yours

but something out of a cavernous dream

in the heart of the night

I'll contact J.M. Coetzee

He'll whisper profanity in my ears

I'll laugh and choke on my guitar

spitting beer through the nose

and empty vodka glasses through the thorax

I built a castle

like Elsa

all those Disney girls whose lives were marked by nature

unlike me

I seek nature

but it defies me

resists my charms

I lie in bed at night

alone

or with you

and dream of a boat

where nobody understands the destination

but a ballroom dance

going round and round

like the girl with the broken neck

in the house of Usher

If you spell it backwards

you cast a spell

on your dead lover

to screw him in his sleep

baptism and all

Imagine a farm without fences, a zoo unzipped, uncaged and uncaring where animals just sit. And then a friend from afar came to see if it were true... trust the truth left them shocked - nothing to close, no doors to be locked... yet the animals never moved outside their sense of their own spaces. The friend could only venture to ask,"how in the hell did you manage this task?!" The owner of the uncaged collection of creatures could only reply ,"for years upon years, I collected beasts born in closed spaces. They knew only their cages, separated from each other and no idea or intention of the ways in the wild. And so after some time, I unmade the barriers of oppression. And yet there they stayed, stuck by their convention. No fire in their soul, to stroll out into the great unknown... They had been created as captives with only one view of reality. From all this it seems, to live without walls and without dreams, caged by values we use to make reality. Controlled by our conscious and unconscious state until one day we see: we know not what it means to be free.

"But real love," she says,

"is when you'd

sew your skin into

the skin of your lover to

become one.

If I could cut off

my arm

from the elbow

and cut yours off as well

and join them together

as one limb, I'd go for

it. I'd then follow

with the other

arm, then the legs,

and finally the chests and

the foreheads

and lips.

We'd die of course, but that

would be the

beauty of it. We'd die

together, as one.

We'd become a mass of filth

and puss and

rot and

eventually melt into a single

substance.

That would be heaven.

You'd do

that for me, wouldn't you,

darling?"

Lying in bed,

he removed the pillow

from his face. It did nothing

to silence her. Of course

it did nothing.

Because she was not real,

only in his head.

They were already one

and the same

and as one-and-the-same

as they could get.

"C'mon already!" she

shouted. "Say that

you love me too!"

"Uh, I do," he mumbled,

a hand rubbing

circles at his

right temple

"Of course you do!" she

said. "However, last morning

when you fell

asleep

somehow, for some

unthinkable reason, your

dreams were not of me. I don't

understand how

such a tragedy could

have

occurred.

It's hell!

The simple idea of separation

between the two

of us is hell, darling, and I

don't wanna abandon you

in hell.

Don't worry. I'll keep you

awake. Dreams aren't

good for you.

I'll keep them away

and myself close."

He covered his face

with the

pillow again

and held his breath

She went on, "You know

what I dreamed last

time I was

asleep?

Of you, of course!

I dreamed that you were

so small and so

cute

and I could hold you

in my palm

and play with you so nicely

and squeeze you

all over

and, my ultimate fantasy, chew

on you!

Oh yes! I put you whole

in my mouth and

bit down on your chewy

cuteness.

Then I bit you in the middle

and tore your

torso off

and swallowed your bottom

half completely.

I came at that moment. Yes,

it was a very wet

dream.

I kept the top half of you

in my palms

and watched your beautiful

guts ooze out.

Ah, they were like swollen

spider legs. And I

made you walk

and crawl on them all

over my body.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap,

your hot gut-legs across

my sweaty skin went

up and down,

up and down.

Oh, and I swear the only

bad thing about

this dream was that it

ended too early. Just

when I was about to

sew your guts

on a spot

between my breasts.

But what am I saying? The right

time for that dream

to end would've

been NEVER!!!

Right, darling? Right?"

He tossed the pillow

away

and stood

Walked out of the

bedroom

and into the kitchen

"Darling!" she shouted

in his head. "What do

you think

of my dream?

Most wholesome

thing ever, right

darling?

Riiiiight?"

He opened a cupboard

and reached for

a little box of

sleeping pills

Opened it

"Darling?

What are you doing? What's

that?"

He poured a few pills

into his palm,

about six,

and swallowed them quickly

and placed his head

sideways under the

tap to suck at the

stream of water as he

turned it on

"What silly behavior,

darling," she said. "Those

things will

make you sleepy.

It... It wouldn't be

a problem if

you'd dream of me, but...

What if you don't?

Can you imagine? What if

you go to sleep

for hours and hours

and... Ah, I don't even

want to think about

it!"

He went back into

the bedroom

"Darling,

get those things out

of your lovely

stomach now! C'mon, let's

vomit together!"

But the only thing he

could do now

was start crying

and throw his numb body

forward

like jumping into a pool

so he could land with

the head into the

corner of

the nightstand

It was a fairly

loud bang

and he stayed down

lying on the floor, luckily

on a carpeted portion of it

He was on his side

so it was alright

even if he vomited in his

sleep

The sleep didn't

come yet

but something better

came.

A silence so sweet and

so mercifully tender

that his numb face

turned into a smile as

the eyes closed

It'll be alright

She will come back

by the time

he'd wake up

but she

wasn't always

so bad

Sometimes she

was

actually quite all right

Some time ago

when he worked up

the courage

to tell his

father about her,

the father said,

"Meh, that's nothing,

try living with

a real woman and then

see what it's

like to go mad for

real."

Of course

father was drunk more often

than not

so he didn't know

much about

women that were real

and women that were real

only to certain men. He

had his own

demons to live with

Everyone must

have those

else they're either

a boring saint who spends

a lifetime meditating

in caves

or not a complete person

to begin with

Yeah... demons

complete us

as humans

Why should one seek

to live without

them?

***

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https://www.instagram.com/bogdan_1_dragos/

the candles were not

made of wax

it was something

different

Something that smelled

like sweat as they

melted

there were five

of them

One for each

corner of the pentagram

They had to take

the furniture

and the carpet out

of the room

to trace it

in the middle

with powders he'd never

heard about

or smelled

or seen before

he'd never heard

or seen or

thought about anything

like this before

He just went

along

And now watched

her round, shaved head

in the dancing light

of the candles

She looked like

an eastern goddess

to him

"I think we're ready," she

said

He didn't know what

they were ready for

but went along

again and

stretched naked over the

pentagram as instructed

and watched as

she mounted him

She rode him in complete

silence

No moaning,

no heavy breathing,

like she felt nothing at all

"The way to summon

the devil is

through your womb," she

explained. "The seed

of a man who

wants to die

is required. How lucky

I am to have

found you, love."

A few days ago

he wrote on social

media that if

he doesn't find a

goth girlfriend

in six days he'll kill himself

Maybe words

really do

hold power

after all

***

INSTAGRAM:

https://www.instagram.com/bogdan_1_dragos/