It is an entirely unfortunate happenstance that the best of writing is taken from personal experiences.
The breakfast of memories served on the platter tasted like sulfur and sadness.
It wasn’t about which memories they were, that didn’t matter. Not really.
It was the frequent reminders of the past.
Have a bite of this, have a bite of that.
Have a bite of bitterness, of finding that you’re lost. Here! We’ll serve you extra sorrows; let you drown in the sauce.
It wasn’t about the vitality of the flavour, no. The taste of life was too sweet. Sugar-coated and soaked in wine a bit too long. A mixture of rancid meat and everything wrong.
It was all about the combinations.
The combinations of the taste, the smell, the texture and the hope. Combinations like bitter-sweet, just to make you choke.
Life’s course is given to us garnished with crushed dreams. It comes to us sizzling in despair. Always leaving this sick aftertaste; lacking in care.
But we our losing ourselves with each bite we devour, which is why we must learn to take the sweet with the sour.
In your room of nothing,
A raven owns the air.
His presence plagues your
Darkest dreams and issues
His cry is echoed dully
By the shrieks of your
Shrieks that he ignores while
He tears your mind apart.
Soul soon shot to pieces,
Shattering to the ground,
Your body falls
Amongst the shards,
Making not a sound.
He rains down silver sorries
On your corpse that’s now
He now regrets his wicked words,
He now regrets his spoken spears,
Too late is revealed the damage,
Too late in coming, are his tears.
In your room of nothing,
A raven owned the air.
But now his venom’s caught him too
And your miseries he shares.
When I was asked to be your friend it gave me the greatest fear.
I was okay with being your friend, but I was afraid to draw you near.
In me it caused a worrying that should we be friends for many a year, we’d then part ways and not see each other for a rather long time.
That long time is what I feared.
In that time I knew you’d forget,
I knew you’d forget the years.
The years we were friends.
The years we held each other so dear.
Trembling, I feared when we’d finally meet again.
I’d come forth with tears.
Remembering the years
And remembering the days.
I’d wrap you in my arms, and you with horror would say;
Stranger, who are you to dare? Who are you to make me ensnared?
Ah how through my tears I would laugh.
For you, my friend of bygone years, you disillusioned my now real fears because for all of those long happy years you just dared, to not even care.
And I would not remind you of the years that we did share,
‘Stead with my hand hovering over my heart, a heart that was riddled with venomous spears, I’d stagger out the door to find one more friend, one more friend for me to lovingly fear.
You picked your pieces one by one,
dropping others, loving some,
Some fit well right from the start
where others, well, were torn apart.
Some were lucky leaving early
while others left it far too late,
Most left with their crimson anger
All of them left with blackened hate.
We are now friends,
I considered at first, admittedly,
In response, to shake my head,
But then I thought about it and,
Decided I could use a friend.
A friend you said you wanted yes,
someone always to be there,
With no good byes.
Yet always wasn’t everlasting,
To you it was not infinite.
Always was simply evanescent,
Simply a piece to briefly fit.
Her tongue spoke silver,
Her mouth shouted red,
Her body formed blackness
Inside of my head.
Her smile shined white,
While her hair it ran golden,
Yet it was to her grey eyes
That I was beholden.
Her laughter cried yellow,
Her sigh screamed of blue,
And though she was my spectrum,
She painted for you.