In the soul of of the night

Bleed bleed bleed
Bleeding pen
Spitting the pain
Spreading the strain
The outrageous
Sense of betrayal

My words
Are fucking all
The fucking lies

I never am
In resignation
In acceptance
To run away
To run forward 
To live
To love
As magnificently
As it will never be

Not to love him
As it must

To love him
As much as
I can't

To be the hand that lock
And the hand that unlock
And lick
The lack of him
Through my words

Fearing 
The bend of passion
The tumble of 
The feeling of love

Vascillant, calmed
closed,
simply,

Inadvertently,
Hammered by time

By the pains
By his new cravings

Going ahead
In order not to die
In order to power
Not to perish
Into a flaw
Of meaninglessness

To be erased

slowly
Like a whisper

Indistinguishable
The killer gum of time
Maybe

The vertiginous fear
This not frank non-end
Stretching out in doubts

The bleeding insomniac pain
Crushed pen against the desolate crumpled sheet
Bringing forth a thousand fragments of
Resurrection
 
Flickering days

Relentless insults 

Of jealousy

Not to be
Again
Never
And always 

Repeated
Copy and paste
Never the same yet

And if it was no more
It would be nil and pain

Doubts
And nothingness
Almost doubts
The almighty fantasy
Fitting into a frame
Where beautiful
Assassin love
Leaves no respite