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When Death Becomes Her

Is conceding to defeat
preferable to basking
in its inevitability?
Humanity began
another war today.
Where one concludes
another begins;
there is no end to
tyranny.

Oppression is what
keeps the heart at bay
and prevents our love
from living. Where
once love reigned
supreme, now she
knows only defeat, for
we have failed to
nurture that which we
once hailed as our
most paramount emotion.

When death became her,
she was taken at the
reaper’s blessing. His
minions, our militaries,
were only too eager to
prove themselves reliable
by eliminating the only
force strong enough to
halter humanity’s violent
expansion.

In the name of hate we
killed her; love is now all
but gone. Her demise will
not be remembered; just
another death on the
casualty list; just another
nameless number in the
statistics; just another
victim to the grinder that
is war. If love was as
popular as hatred,
perhaps she could have
outlasted till the bitter
end.

If this be true; if these
written words are proven
reliable and all that this
piece dare reveals is the
inconvenient existence we
are all bound to, then what
is the purpose to our
continuation? Why bother
submitting to a life that is
destined to be unfinished,
for what is life with the
absence of romantic passion?

The lie we would be forced
to tell ourselves in order
to get out of bed each
morning would be a betrayal
upon our very souls and
lead only to our damnation.
This writer can already
taste the suffocating hatred
that has drenched the
surface of our planet; can
you not taste cherub’s
defeat?

If love was so easily taken,
then what unfortanate
future is in store for our
soul mates? Why bother
living, breathing, eating,
if your lover’s flame has
already been extinguished?
With the amount of death
that has covered this
world, what chance is
there that your future
lover has already been
consumed?

What chance is there for us
if our futures do not include
such passion? What hope is
there for anyone if
tomorrow brings us no
closer to that which we are
lacking? If love is truly
dead, then we have
already joined her in the
afterlife. I only hope that
hatred does not exhist
there too.

Monster Heart

I may have been born
and raised by humans,
but I was never one of
them. I am alien, as I
always was; I am Clark
Kent without the power,
E.T without the family to
go home to. I almost look
human and can therefore
almost assimilate physically,
but always there was
something missing; a
necessary component of
humanity I was always
deprived; love? I had that
once, but now that time was
over. I could hope for it
again, but do little else.
Empathy? I could sympathise
with those in pain and
sometimes wish they weren’t;
I could relate to the loss and
potentially even cry for them,
but I could do little else. Speech?
I could at times be quite
garrulous despite my normally
silent demeanour. Anxiety?
A necessary evil it would seem;
a burden I did not wish to carry;
the part of humanity I wish
I had been denied. Anger, fear,
hatred, happiness; the list could
go on and on. So what is it that I
had been denied; what had I been
forsaken; what was not my
birthright? Can you guess? It was
as forgettable as a pebble, but as
important as the human heart; the
essence of humanity. Barred from
me like a prison, without which I
was not quite myself, I instead
became something less than I
ought to become. I was as
hideous as a nightmare; as
unloved as a cockroach; as
unwanted as a tax bill. I
was an insidious monster
that very few people could
ever see past. This was no
mask which could be taken
down, it was beneath the skin,
burrowing deeply into the
lower reaches of my soul. My
gift for being birthed I do
presume and it made me wish
that I hadn’t, but all it would
take is one touch; one kiss; one
sign of lust from a fair damsel
to remove this burning pain from
my interior. Like a frog’s first
kiss, I would finally feel alive
once more and perhaps, if luck
may have it, I would take my
first step into a human world
and maybe even enjoy it; and if
I didn’t? Well, I guess I’d just
ask the fair angel to kiss me
again and I would immediately
be the man I ought to be once
more, with the queen of the
human spirit standing, perhaps
happily, by my side. And they
say monsters cannot have dreams?

Fantasy

T’is not the beginning of a love poem.
Expect no admittance of romance, but of
tragedy; no romantic whose words bleed through
every pore and whose feelings intoxicate
the very world around them; instead, there will
be just blood and words that shan’t ever rhyme thrown
together like objects that ought never to
remain connected.

 

                               Only those of us who are
alive live in the here and now. What is the
point in living, when those one wishes to spend
eternity with are never by their side,
cursed to forever be apart by a zeal-
ous society that knows not the fortunes
of love and longing, but of a corruption
that stems forth from the unattainable.

                                                          All
of us hide who we truly are beneath the
shadows of fallen endeavours that never
came to pass. What I wouldn’t give to see the
future, to know what will be fallen and what
will rise above, to ensure my broken heart,
bereft with grief, is not injured any fur-
ther than what it hath already sustained.

                                                              I
cannot imagine surviving any more
pain than what has already crippled me so.
I miss the lovers I never had; the opp-
ortunities that were never taken; the
places where I have never been. There was man-
y a moment when I could have grasped the chance
to have what I do not, but never did my
heart grow the potency it needed to sac-
rifice it all for nothing more than a chance
that need not even be real.

                                          In the darkness of
the real world, there’s nothing good to be had here,
for the seeds of fantasises that grow within
my mind are unable to blossom in this realm.
A fantasy is but a dream, and therefore
is not supposed to exist after all, but
there are no lengths I would not go to in my
vain attempt to live the life I want so des-
perately to be mine.

                                 Why can I not step
out from a dream and into reality,
taking you, the woman I will love forev-
er and always, from one world into the next.
You already exist in this world, but you
know not of me. In my dreams you see me; you
feel me; you fall for me, my paramour, and
I for you, until the end of time. 

                                                In this
world you are rich and prestigious; utterly
famous and never without your infinite
glamour. In my dream however, you are still
you, but without the ego, and instead of
looking through me, you look right at me, and I
am noticed for the first time by your eyes. It
is then that your heart beats, not for you, but for
me, and in that moment you are mine, just as
I am gladly yours, and never shall this ep-
ic fantasy conclude.

You Are My Perfection

I do not settle
for anything
less than
perfection,
so if I settle
for you, think
only, that you
are the single
most perfect
person I shall
forever know.

Life Happens

Hey guys! This particular piece is a short story I am working on for one of my university classes. It has been previously workshopped by both my tutor and fellow students alike and I would very much like to know your opinions. If you believe there are any editorial issues, grammatical errors or general sentence concerns, et al, please notify me and I will gladly take them all into consideration before I am to submit the finalised piece in three weeks time. Thank you!

People say that a person can eventually move on after losing someone they love. It has been ten years since I lost Katarina and I never have. Today is the anniversary of her death and I cannot help but reminisce on what could have been, for the day I lost my girlfriend, is the day that I too died, for I’d hardly say I’m alive when I feel so dead inside.

The rain was the heaviest I had ever seen. The headlights on our vehicle barely managed to reveal anything that night, the entire highway more like an endless tunnel than a road. The heating in the car could barely keep out the cold; our breath was coming out before us in clouds as the two of us shivered. Even my favourite dark brown leather jacket was unable to contain my warmth.
‘I can’t believe we chose this night to celebrate my birthday,’ sighed Katarina in her natural, high pitched accent. Because English was not her first language, she often spoke slowly to avoid mixing up her words. She wore the jet black jacket I had bought her two Christmases earlier. The collar was beginning to fray as she must have worn this a hundred times or more. Can’t believe she couldn’t wear something else on her special day. Her dark brown hair hung down to her shoulders, her naturally pink lips stood out on her ghostly white complexion, her brown eyes watching the rain droplets move across the windscreen.
God, I realise I must sound like a love struck teenager on her first date, but you must understand something. For us, every date was like our first because we would always discover something new, and every time we made love it was as though we had never explored our bodies before. Every second of our time together was divine, well, most of it.
‘It’s just a little rain, it’ll dry,’ I reassured her, pulling one hand away from the steering wheel and rubbing her freezing cold hands. I saw my reflection out from the corner of my eye in the rear-view mirror. My dark hair was tied back in a green hair tie, which, according to Katarina, perfectly matched my eyes. My lips were stained with dull red lipstick, whilst blue mascara lined my eyes. ‘You’d better button up Kat,’ I noted
She smiled back at me. ‘I’ll be fine. The cold has little effect on me.’
‘I hope you don’t expect me to care for you when you’re all sick and disgusting,’ I retorted.
‘Shut up,’ snorted Katrina. ‘I cared for you when you had pneumonia; took time off work and everything so I’d expect you to do the same for me.’ She folded her arms across her chest and looked out the window once more. ‘I only hope we get there before this storm gets any worse.’ Her eyes no longer sparkled like they so often did.
I could feel Katarina’s emotion as though it were my own. ‘We’ll get there eventually,’ I promised.
‘If anyone else said this I would be unsure,’ stated Katarina, turning to face me. ‘But because it’s you Aryah, I’d believe anything,’ she giggled. We stared into each other’s eyes, neither of us noticing the van veering onto the wrong side of the road until its blinding headlights collided with our own.

It is said that a person always remembers their first kiss, or, more accurately, the person who first kisses them. Funnily enough, I don’t, I only remember Katarina. Our first chance encounter was anything but normal: she stole my car.
At the time she had been working as a journalist and I as a public relations manager. I was hired to facilitate an agreement with two rival companies who wanted to merge into one. Apparently the idea of acquiring more money was enough for them to set their differences aside to work co-operatively towards mutual goals. Katarina had been asked by her boss to write an investigative article on the merger, but had unfortunately been denied access. For the best I would presume. I left the merger almost immediately after it began. I know, I know, how unprofessional of me! But I personally felt as though my talents had been squandered. I guess I was simply unable to listen to a gaggle of grown men strutting around talking shop. On the drive back to my hotel I received a phone call and only took my eyes off the road for a second when I hit something. I slowed down to retrieve my phone so I was glad that when the collision occurred, Katarina, the victim of my bad driving was not terribly injured. Apparently Katarina had never received her driver’s licence despite taking the test a few times and was forced instead to use alternate means of travel – in this case a bike – which unfortunately bore the brunt of my vehicle’s bonnet. I did try to apologise, I swear! However Katarina was in a state of shock and would not hear any of it. This led to frustration and eventually anger, which led to her kicking me in the shin. She just so happened to be wearing metal toe capped boots, so you can imagine the pain I was in; it was probably more than what I had inflicted upon her. After I fell to the ground she looked me up and down, jumped into my car and drove off. She did leave me the twisted carcass that was once her bike, which was awfully kind of her.
Luckily for me, her inability to drive led to her arrest. According to the patrol officer, he found it a touch odd when he recovered my purse and driver’s licence on her person, stating how I had apparently changed in ‘height, weight and appearance.’ Katarina had replied with ‘shit happens,’ and shrugged at his remark. She always was bold and her mouth almost always got her into trouble. I think it was this trait of hers that I first fell in love with. The officer, as strange as it might seem, decided to drop all charges, believing that we had paid each other back in full.
However, this chance meeting progressed into a friendship, which in turn became something else. This might have been because we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves – probably because we were always fighting, and when we weren’t, well, we’ll get to that.

Katarina’s apartment at the time was in no way the definition of cleanliness; the floor was her wardrobe and the bed was her bathroom cupboard. We had decided to test our wits at a game of poker on this particular stormy night, and neither of us wanted to brave the weather to get a good night’s supper. However, the game seemed to be one sided. I was left in the bedroom to set out the cards across the bed, whilst Katarina was inside the bathroom, the door just open a crack, enough for me to see her shadow skirting the walls as she busily went about her post-shower business.
‘How long does it take to get ready?’ I shouted.
‘Patience Aryah!’ shot back Katarina in return. ‘You shouldn’t be so eager to charge headstrong into the fight. I always win you know.’
‘Do you now?’ I asked with a sly grin.
‘I am known for being quite vicious,’ she replied. ‘I take what I want and I always play for keeps.’
‘You sound as though you do this often,’ I commented.
‘Only when there is something worth fighting for,’ replied Katarina.
‘Is that why you are getting all pampered up in there?’ I asked. ‘Are you gearing up for battle, or do you have a hot date planned after this?’
‘Don’t know’ said Katarina in reply, ‘depends if she’s interested.’
Little did Katarina know I had already left the bed, quietly navigated the room and opened the bathroom door to find her standing before the mirror in her fluffy white towel, drenched with the water continuing to drip from her body. ‘Oh, she’s interested’ I replied as I wrapped my arms around her and planted my lips to hers as she did the same to mine.
A second later I had slipped the bath towel away from her body and let it fall to the tiles. Words could not begin to describe the flawless sight that befell my eyes and it would be an insult to even try.
It was not long after I had pushed Katarina up against the bathroom wall that she had pushed me back as well, forcing me once more into the bedroom where we found ourselves a couple of feet short of the bed, her clothes cushioning the fall as we fell on top of one another onto the floor, giggling as we did so.
Katarina pinned me to the ground before tearing ravenously at my clothes, a number of buttons coming loose in the process as my shirt was thrown to the side. With that, she came down upon me like a tidal wave, ever so slowly nibbling her way down my front, not daring to stop until she reached my clitoris. From where she lay her head, Katarina smiled up at me, before taking me into her mouth, a spasm of ecstasy rushing through my veins. Mind, heart, body; I was entirely hers and she mine, and nothing but the steel of an out of control vehicle would ever separate us from one another.

Pain was the first thing I felt upon waking in the hospital ICU, the flashbacks which had comforted me disappearing into the room. My arm was broken, my face badly bruised and my lips swollen from the airbag (deploying in front of me), a deep gash cut into the left side of my face from where my head connected with the side window. Only three of my ribs were fractured and yet all of them ached unanimously. The ramblings of the doctor meant nothing to me, for all I cared about, all I would ever care about, was lying a few rooms down from me.
I was allowed the privilege of seeing Katarina almost immediately. The walk to her room felt like an eternity and although Katarina looked nothing like I remembered, my feelings for her were unchanged.
She was lying back in bed, a great portion of her body having received terrible injuries during the crash. Her right leg was elevated and in a sling, being fractured in several places. Five of her ribs were broken, her left arm being wrenched from its socket whilst her right wrist, along with several fingers, were broken. Her face had been battered, a significant portion of her cheeks and nose being caved in from the smash. This of course was just the physical damage, the doctors warning me of the severe internal injuries.
At present it seemed that Katarina was in no position for any further surgery and the medicos were planning to wait for a good eighteen hours before they attempted any further procedures. Despite all this, Katarina was conscious, fighting the twilight that was creeping up around her.
‘Hey,’ she managed upon my entry as I grimaced when sitting down beside her. ‘I’m glad to see you were not badly injured.’
‘Tell that to the rest of me,’ I replied, attempting to keep up appearances as I ran my free hand through her hair. ‘The doctors say you are going to make a full recovery,’ I said as Katarina smiled weakly at me.
‘I’m a journalist, remember,’ she stated, her lips barely moving. ‘My job is to search for the truth; don’t start lying to me now.’
‘I’ll try to keep that in mind,’ I noted, maintaining eye contact as I did so, a tear running down my cheek.
‘Please,’ said Katarina. ‘I don’t want you to remember this as anything but a happy moment.’
‘How can that be when the woman that I love lies before me in critical condition?’ I asked. ‘Besides, how do you know that this is not a tear of joy? I was not lying when I told you that you may very well pull through, because there is still every chance. You are a fighter Katarina and I don’t want you to give up in the moment when you need to fight harder than you ever have before.’
‘You know as well as I that’s not true,’ replied Katarina out from the corner of her mouth.
‘Don’t talk like that,’ I sobbed, gripping her hand with mine as she winced from the pain, but continued to hold on regardless.
‘We’ve shared in a lot of adventures,’ she said with a smile as though recalling every one of them with those words. ‘But I won’t be coming with you this time.’
‘What?’ I spluttered as tears continued to well up in my eyes, yet Katarina continued to remain strong, although even she was having trouble trying to keep her emotions in check. ‘No,’ I retorted, ‘we-we stay together. I should have watched where I was driving. I was supposed to take care of you.’
‘No,’ replied Katarina with a sigh. ‘We were supposed to take care of each other. Don’t ever blame yourself and don’t stop living because of me. I’ve been strong enough for both of us, but now you must be strong enough for yourself.’ Katarina swallowed before continuing slowly once more. ‘Who knows, if there’s a bar up there or something I’ll save a seat for you and I’ll look down on you from time to time. You will never be alone and no matter what, I will always lo-’
In that moment, Katarina slipped into unconsciousness. She never spoke again. I remained with her until the monitors around us came to life with the sound of raucous beeping, and just like that she was gone.

Alphabet of Love

SYNOPSIS: How a love can echo through the ages through many of the words in the alphabet.

A is for the way I absolutely adore you,
B, is simply because what I write and say is true,
C is for the way you drive me, my heart and my soul crazy,
D, is how I dream of being with you for an eternity.
E is for how extraordinary it is to have you for breakfast, lunch and every other meal,
F, is forever and always, as it was meant to be, in relation towards the way I feel.
G is for how grateful I am to you, to God and the Heavens above that we are together,
H is for my fairytale love affair with you that is to become happily ever after,
I, describes how I wish to live a life complete with love and laughter,
J, is for how joyful I am to be your significant other,
K, is for the way I kiss your sweet lips ever so gently every morning, noon and night,
L is for the way you look into my eyes, because you fill me with ravishing delight.
M is for how we were meant to be, and how it is written in the stars above that I was made to love you,
N is for how I swear to you that I will never ever hurt your gorgeous heart, nor will I ever leave you.
O, is for how you are the only person who has the amazing capability to make me weak at the knees,
P is for the way you press yourself against me and ask ‘do you want to spend the night with me?’ and I reply ‘yes please
my paramour’, Q, is for how you are the only true queen of this man’s undying heart,
R, is for how I long to romantically run away with you and never be apart,
S is for when we spend quality time together and you say those three words I always long to hear,
T is for how I tremble so upon touching and cherishing your true beauty whenever you are near.
U, is for how you are so amazingly unique and talented, and how you have always been utterly breathtaking,
V is for how I validate our relationship by giving you roses, violets and other very pretty things.
W is for how I want you everyday and how when we walk together to our most favorite of places I know I’ve never felt this way before,
X is for your beautiful X-chromosome which makes you the woman that I love with your sweet xylophone sounding voice that I long to listen to more and more.
Y is for the way I dream about you every time the moon arises, in which you yearn to spend your life forever in my arms with me,
Z, is for all the zenith I get from you and how I will forever protect you against pain and anything that harms you zealously,
for I have an alphabet of love for you, from A through to Z
because I know that you and I – we are each other’s destiny.

Gold vs. Green/Pointing a gun to an Angel’s head

SYNOPSIS: A piece about losing love, only to find love again on the rebound, only to fall madly in love once more, only to lose that love again and only then learn and appreciate the true meaning of pain and suffering. Dear reader, I will admit, this piece may not always make a complete amount of sense.

Warning: This piece contains some coarse language and strong sexual references.

‘Better put on some mittens
and lock up your l’il kittens
cuz tonight it’s gonna get freezin’ cold.
Find that someone you’ve been wantin’ to hold
and never dare let them go.
Your emotions, let ‘em show,
as you stare into each other’s eyes.
The immense power to paralyze
is a truly powerful thing.’
Such words are really amazing,
such words are not mine. A friend I once knew
confessed this to me to confess to you,
as to forever have you as my one and only,
for you are, as you always have been, a fantasy
that I cannot times infinity live without.
This love affair is what this poem is about.

There’s a monkey in my lap
I think my ex has the clap,
and if that bitch is suggestin’
that I gave her the infection
then I have to proudly announce that she is sourly wrong,
for my wonderful equipment has been so clean all along.
For here I am, smiling with a white silk shirt,
all the while happy, playing in the grey dirt
looking for a new woman to occupy my active mind,
cuz memories of an old romance I don’t wish to rewind.
It was then that I saw you, like an angel on the other side of the river.
‘Give me a chance young lady, just one chance, and I will forever be your lover.’
However, you send more misinterpreted signals than a fuckin’
traffic light in the middle of the city that is beyond broken;
one day you’re bright red, one day you’re lime green and the next day you are but gold.
Just tell me, what are we doing? Do you even know? Are you hot or cold?

Driving down the motorway, two seconds from overload;
I do not know where I am, and who cares for the zip code,
for I’m driving in a beast that drinks gasoline
like I do cold beer; yeah, she’s a well oiled machine,
with a bitchin’ engine and well gassed wheels,
she’s a rusted down piece of chrome and steel.
She’s got herself a red finish with white racing stripes
which run straight down the centre, with gas blasting out the pipes
on the arse end of her sleek body which is brilliant if I dare say
on this not so glorious afternoon of a sunny Saturday.
This car of mine, she was designed for wet n wild fun,
and I sure as shit ain’t stoppin’ her on this dog run,
so to hell with the darn cops, if they wanna catch me,
they better be doin’ more than friggin’ one eighty
on this freeway as I burn rubber like I burn carbohydrates
whilst driving in an old dog with some friends of mine who can relate.

Riding shotgun is Alex, as foxy as can be,
and in the back rides Ryan and his girlfriend Natalie.
The two have been getting’ at it, both been getting’ busy
as we drive right through this always over crowded city
for driving around in a bad ass corvette
is likely to get any femme fatale wet.
Like me, this car, she glitters, but she ain’t nearly all gold,
if you’re playing cards with me honey I suggest you fold,
for I know you have a full house, but I’ve a royal flush,
and if you’ve met me, then you’ve certainly had your brush
with destiny, and I tell yer now like I tell yer then, I don’t wanna spoil
your surprise, cuz I’m like a shotgun baby, you have gotta watcha recoil
else you’re gonna get hurt, so I suggest we play it safe, even if we play it rough,
cuz I’m sure you know like me that a little safety is never quite safety enough
when it comes to internal security. So let’s be sure we’re both protected
cuz you don’t want what I got baby, you don’t wanna ever be love infected.

At night our combined voices create quite the crescendo,
I guess that’s the penalty of frequent innuendo,
and if it is, then I haven’t a problem with this.
Such no doubt always begins with a passionate kiss
as it always did, and before you know it we’re lying in bed.
The deed has been done, and I sigh and say ‘nothing like a good head
job’, and you smile and nod and agree.
Absolutely, undeniably,
for Jesus may have died for the sins of all humanity, but he didn’t die for mine,
and I don’t know if he realised I would find sex to be quite so elegant or divine
as to want it every night and day with you, forever and ever
and never would I give up on us, no I wouldn’t, I would never.
For it’s when you say ‘I’ve an itch under my scared flap of skin,
please, can you touch it, can you stroke it, can you really do it in?’
that I find you so utterly insatiable;
my feelings for you – they are undeniable.

‘I want to be with you’ I say with a smile upon my face
that no nefarious occurrence could ever dare erase,
for I am shirtless, sleeveless but not sexless within this life I’m livin’ in.
I do not like losin’ any fight, and when I find you I’ll call that a win.
To do so however, I will need a gift; a keen sense of direction,
but you needn’t fear for never have I failed a self-appointed mission.
‘Have you a map?’ you ask, ‘what map!’ I respond, ‘the journey is in my mind,
and I swear to you that sometime soon you will be the treasure I will find.’
For I know that I like sleeping
and that you yourself like sleeping,
so when I have you, why don’t we sleep together?
Please, I beg of you, do not use the word ‘never’
in a sentence, when you indeed answer my question.
So please, before you speak, listen to my confession;
‘I love you sweet lady (these words I say are fact I swear) and I always will
until this world of ours is dead and gone and time is forcibly standing still.

Perhaps I’ve been wrong this whole time; perhaps more is less, perhaps less is more,
cuz I’ve been yelling to get some good service, I’ve been yelling for the law
to come arrest the bastard who can’t seem to fetch me a bloody drink,
all I wanted was some decent ice cold beer with some chardonnay pink,
but I guess such was just too darn difficult for that dumb son of a bitch.
Which witch is which?
Which watch is right?
Which of these should I dare to truly trust on this darkened candle lit night?
Normally this time of evening, the wine
would be making you one hundred per cent mine
tonight. But on this specific occasion,
there was no such amazing legislation,
cuz it sucks when the one you love really hates you,
when the one woman who was your muse rejects you,
and now all I want is a bottle to drown away my sorrows
just so that I can survive to see the rise of a tomorrow.

‘I am one loony baboony in a cocoony’ I replied,
to the woman I called ‘mine’ who loved me once, the day my heart died.
‘Now there is no one else for you to turn to’
you said, ‘you have lost yourself deep within you.’
‘I’ve been broken, belittled; my heart’s been officially ripped out’
I cried, ‘tell me, what is all this concerning, what is this about?’
You shrugged your small shoulders. ‘Pretty soon you will be dead.
If only you had listened to what your mamma said.
Don’t you remember what she thrice said to you?
Guess you never had one decent, single clue,
or was it that your mind was filled with lead?
Many angels sacrificed their lives for you, many angels have fought and died,
but what was the point, for you’re about to commit emotional suicide.
If you continue on with this expedition,
in the bible there’s only one definition;
pointing a handgun to an angel’s head.’

I still remember the past, that is my curse,
cuz tonight it’s the end of my universe
and I really, truly, nearly am feelin’ fine
as I down a crystallised bottle of white wine
over the course of this very late night
before I get caught up in all the light
of love and life and imminent death,
cuz normally I would lose my breath
when you suddenly enter the room.
You’d play the wife, and I’d play the groom,
we were shitty actors but come the night we were better than ‘great’,
for we were together as promised by the designers of fate,
but now this life has changed and it ain’t the way it used to be
and now you can no longer bring yourself to stand next to me.
You have a week to pack your things and leave, then you can go nuts,
shouldn’t be too hard really cuz let’s face it – you hate my guts.