(Old draft because I have no inspiration for a new poem).

Masks are very popular here, porcelain stacking on plastic.

Aging is a curse, brought upon by only the worst of deities. Youth is beauty, youth is everything.

They treat the children very poorly, the only care being given is the constant plastering of thick creams and solutions.

Mask are very popular here, you can hide a wrinkle wit...

There are many moments a child can remember, and far too many seconds one can recall.

I remember witnessing my father’s second wedding, or my half-brother’s brainwashing.

I remember being called negative all my life.

But those aren’t moments, those are events.

Moments are fugacious. Memorable. Traumatizing.

‘It does not have to be something negative’.

Perhaps I have been called negativ...

(Inspired by one song and another title.)

The insides of that woman is bitter sex.

A bitter love and a bitter heart.

Tart to the core, rotting on the outsides.

The insides of that woman is a fire of flesh, it burns my fingertips.

I’m going straight to hell, after I’ve plunged so deep in her mind.

Hell, it’s only a lift away.

I’m going straight to hell, after what I’ve thought of you. ...

My sweet Venus, must you carve your name in stone?

My sweet Venus, pity you inured yourself like a mule at work.

My sweet Venus, promise me we shalt not be lovelorn.

My sweet Venus, my being is to solely lionize you.

My sweet Venus, the temples I sculpted for you are crumbling.

My sweet Venus, your beauty is an engimatic galaxy.

My sweet Venus, I hold my breath for you until I fall to ...

It is a gnarled at, wilting tree, on the edge of death.

It’s hard to tug at deep roots, they’re stubborn and tough, many scars from the dogs from the wheat fields beside the tree and the scuttling from under.

It’s a feeble tree, family having died, the only being old or childless. Its roots can grow stronger with that, almost all the scars were caused by its own, if only there was vodka to pr...

My god, her American thighs and all her gritty beauty that really did show how utterly screwed I am.

She was a tall glass, and her family was glad to think that she was half empty, but only she knew she was a glass half full.

No, they did not know at all. They did not notice the faded name tag, they did not notice any of the calluses on her fingers.

They did not notice when she left, when sh...

With each page, with each illustration, I can’t help the thumping of my heart, my pupils dilating.

I like the piercings drawn on them, the responses the author chose fitting for them, the dyed hair, the rebellious spark in them.

But then I read another manga, or a novel and I fall in love with a whole new type of fictional individual.

It’s like looking at the moon and wishing I could be its ...

She had a slutty manner of speaking, she was the type of girl you forgot after one night.

Desperate for someone to light her cigarette, which was now just a short stub.

So when she met a boy who had a prudent manner of speaking, she knew he was the type of boy you’d never forget.

It came to a shock that someone as wise as he, foolishly forgot her after one night like the last.

So when she ...

The mask is slipping, sin is creeping, there’s a soft clicking.

I cannot find the noise, but I hear a voice.

It whispers to my ear, chilling my gooseflesh skin and silencing my thumping heart.

It’s perverse, dark in nature, and I know there is surely no chance to renature.

Her nails drag down my arms, the clock ticking in time with my chattering teeth.

The mask is slipping, slowly but su...

Too many lives have been built upon lies, too many bodies stacked for the mouth’s mistake.

I bite down on my tongue.

Refrain, refrain, refrain.

I bite the side of my cheek.

“Do you love me?”

No.

The scars are developing although I cannot see, my tongue can trace the damage.

“Do you hate me?”

Yes.

Her lips could tell, they could tell I am a liar.

God, it’s a surprise that I don’t ha...