“I love you.”
I lick my lips
As if that could ever cleanse them
Of this poison,
The poison that lies
Within my lies.

“I love you too.”
I plug my ears
As if that could ever tune out
The deluded passion
With which you speak
Of mutuality.

Inside, it burns,
The venom.
I am a snake.
I deceive you,
And you trust me.
I could never give to you
What you deserve.
You are too perfect
For someone like me.
How do you not see it?
I don’t deserve you.
I am a liar.
But, there, you sit
And call me perfect.
Perhaps you are the liar.
It seems so genuine.
I wish it truly could be,
But I have delved far too deep
Into mistakes
That could only ever hurt you.
I cannot bear these consequences.
“I love you.”
And I mean it.
It would just be so much easier
If you did not love me back.



I scream
For the days when nothing mattered,
the days when others’ chatter
didn’t burn me
or threaten to turn me
inside out.
I yearn
For when looking into others’ faces
meant I would always find traces
of kindness and honesty,
something they promised me
would never run out.

But leaves have been thrown
where new grass has grown
through thinning layers of snow
on top of leaves that were strewn
the previous year.
And ceilings became higher
as halls were built wider
and so many of the kinder
people I knew became liars
I wished not to hear.

They ran out of kindness,
replaced it with blindness,
and the darkest of glasses
could not fix their vision
-or mine.
For I could no longer find traces
in these, now, unfamiliar faces
of the honest friends
who’d stood by my side.


If I bit you,
You would die.
You would see your life flash
Before your pathetic eyes.
You would know the heartbreak
Of being betrayed.
You would want revenge
And fuel it with your hate.
Do not believe
I have left you alone
As the only soul
To bear this.
I bear them too,
And all for you.
It remains unclear:
Why haven’t I bit you?

With so many opportunities?
You have already bitten me.
I felt the sting
Of your venom in my back.
I fell victim to hate.
You can be sure I went mad.
But I recovered,
When the winged angel,
Approached me in my sorrow.
At first, I fought her
Out of fear.
As I said, I was mad.
But I grew to understand her
And in the end
I surrendered my hate.

If I bit you,
You would die.
But I refuse to give in
To such blind fury.
Do not think
I spare you out of kindness.
I spare you out of
Unwillingness to lose
Myself in your destruction.


I hate being scared
of things that could occur.
I hate being treated
in a way I don’t deserve.
They tell you in school
about the golden rule:
Just treat others how
you want them to treat you.
But the part they leave out
is more important still:
Don’t take treatment
they wouldn’t take as well.
So you’ll spend your time
feeling down on yourself
because you let someone else
put you through hell.
But the thing they don’t get
is that everyone has
a point of breakage,
at which no more will pass.
They can yell and can scream.
But you’re already through
putting up with all
that they had you do.
So walk away at last,
free from their grasp.
They don’t deserve you.
Leave them to the past.
And cherish this lesson
they taught to you:
No one can hurt you
unless you approve.

Light’s Lie

I am a moth to your flame
That shines ever so bright,
So beautiful,
From a distance.
I am overwhelmed by the way
Your light reaches out to me,
Through the fog
Of my cynicism.
How could it be
That once I approach you,
Your light seems smaller
And dimmer?
Such lies! Such deceit!
Was it only a trap
To pull me closer and closer
To simmer
In the flames, that now, surround me?
The flames that once seemed lively
Now prove to be destructive,
And I fly,
Back out into darkness,
Fleeing from you and all
Your facades, that now,
Enrage me,
As I struggle to relieve
Your intoxicants from my lungs,
And let familiar loneliness
Take your place.