Grasp

Secrecy in desires haunts the majority,
While mindless freaks - tiptoe through the night, embracing their normalcy.
Where has the dying gone? Are they in purgatory, or in a heavenly bliss?
A substantial question which lingers the minds of the inquisitive. The entire flawless fallacies that creep through our demonic obsessions.
Beauty dances in the night with skeletons hand in hand,
Preciously tiptoed, in Pointe shoes- slowly dancing out of our closets.
Freakishly beautiful in the night, as the pale moon shimmers from a distance, through the window of lovers.
Why have you betrayed us, sweet sun?
The stars are the only flaming, glimpses of hope, the dead grasp onto for life.

Toxic Taste

Here I am ...
Lost again,
Searching for an answer- but not actively.
I close my eyes and see shades of Blue.
Damn the Blue.
The Blue, of two.

I lead several lives, within my dreams, and reality.
It sickens me - the darkness that I enjoy, the endless
Dark possibilities that I embrace.
I look for guidance, and acceptance- In pure knowledge that I am destined to be known for a destructive, and fatal attraction.

Attraction so pure, that the world won't be able to deny it's beauty.
Yet, my demons will eat me,
As I eat my prey.
First with the taste of a bleeding heart, and second with the inhale of a soul.
A lost soul, so pure and toxic,
But so sweet in it's taste.