Poetry

Moths fly towards me as if guided towards the light
but little did they know, that I am the queen of the night.

Darkness prevails,
emptiness is foreworned,
smog covers your eyes
Leaving you breathless and torned

between two states of mind
between two different kinds
of women
sea men fell from ships
to be lured to the latter
but what does it matter
if you are just words and visual stimulation

I do not need any more time alone
just to give this thought some contemplation

I could be here,
I could be you
To me the sea is purple
and the sky is a jaded form of what is true.

Come closer
let me tell you more about the eye
witness to my crime
as I type sorrow on a carcass
that was sucked dry for all its blood

Mud would be an easy cop out here to rhyme
and then I could continue about my lack existence in time

But this would be all too predictable
unless you like routine
Well here is an update for mr.not there at all
the only thing positive is that I'm nearly 100 clean.