Wicked Paradise...

My soul will live forever

While my skin dies
With each passing day,
And as the day melts away
I escape sleep to avoid the sacred fantasy.

The magnificent beauty of promises,

And I’m blind to the lie.

Like a ghost god,
I’m bound to the night

With no home and no luck,

And the symbol of my emotion

Is trapped here.

Spread out with ink and verse,

On a paper easily torn in two,

Just like my wretched heart.

Is this an absurd mess,

Or a psychedelic masterpiece?

Am I capturing my genius?

With a raw shard of your soul,

You slice and stab at the core of me,
And I am cut by the wild thrill that kills.

Too fresh to heal,

Yet too old to scar,

But you poke at the wound,
And poor salt upon it,

But I never waste a scream,

And you will not hear my pain

As it seeps from my mouth

In silent sobs.

No, this pain is mine.

You will not have it,

Nor take it,

And I will not give it to you.

It is for me to cherish,

And you to wish you could capture it.

I savor my hurt,

For it lets me know I’m real

And this is not just a nightmare

Anymore.

This is my wicked paradise.