To Kill The Sun 

It falls, like unwanted feathers, like sweat. Restless and stifling, the promise of rain like salt on my tongue. Luckily, I know how to wash away the salt. 
They’re kissing, god knows which number they’re on, getting more bodily, the couple in the balcony across my window. He fists his hand in her hair, and they push with the reckless of people who know no one is watching. I shift, to dangle my foot more freely across the window I’m straddling. I ash, and keep smoking. She sees me first, in one of her twisting glances. They slow down, glancing at me with obvious unease. She whispers something into his shirt, and he shakes his head. He goes on kissing her, and I keep watching. 
I light another cigarette. I turn back and he’s waiting for me to look. He blows me a kiss, with a cocky grin. She doesn’t like that at all. She fidgets against him, while he waits for a sign of approval or encouragement from me. I give him none, and stare back at his deadened eyes with my own leaden stare. He will carry me to the ground. For now, we tread the air. The girl is going back inside. I pour another drink. 
He comes back out, a bottle later. He’s buck ass naked, and evidently dissatisfied. There’s a splinter in my thumb, and I worry it with my teeth. He’s the one watching with unconcealed interest now. He rests his hip against his railing, and lights up, nodding at me. I stare, and slosh two fingers into my glass, and raise it to him. He smiles half heartedly, and turns fully towards me, watching. We watch each other. The sky dies. 
Poor bastard. Guess we’re both staying lonely tonight.

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Love 

You watch him

You watch him laugh 

He’s holding her hand

They walk 

As if he’s stepping on air

In her wake

You might as well not

Be there

You stare

At that hand

You used to hold 

At that man

Who was yours 

Who walked out of your heart like

He never even was 

She laughs and

He gazes with the wonder

Of a thousand glittering stars 

In his eyes 

He finally sees 

Even though he doesn’t understand yet

For you

That’s what he used

To be

He bobs his head eagerly

Holds the door open

She sails past

She’s amused, he’s oblivious 

to the fact that

She’s not gazing back tenderly

Even from the sidewalk, you recognize 

That bemused expression

That detached air 

You remember your nerves fluttering around him 

And that’s the smile

He used to wear 

You watch the pantomime unfold

Not sure yet if

You’ve seen enough 

If you’re ready to go

You’ve crossed the signpost he’s

Walking towards

She will break his heart, too 

And he too will know 

Love 

©CM

10.03.2017

Blind Woman

Blind woman,

What do you see? 

Did you choose your paths

Arbitrarily?

Was there method to madness, 

did he

Put the blindfold on

Or did you, because 

You didn’t like mirrors

Eyeballs macerated and torn 

All semblance of foresight ripped, gone

Senses leavened, realizations withdrawn

Did you make this, blind woman?

Is this of your hand?

Did you choose not to see 

Where you stand?

Gouged sockets aren’t pretty but 

Your delusions are uglier 

More bitter 

And no, you bleeding fool, 

Reality isn’t fair either 

Ravines and crevices and cracks

Do not a face adorn 

Go away, blind woman

Go, and put some make up on. 

©CM

02.03.2017

I found the image on tumblr. Really, what lies we tell… 

Pathological Hope

img_1796

I suffer
From pathological Hope
Disappointments are bad enough, but
What makes them even tougher to cope
With, is
This nagging uncertainty
Wishful thinking, or just stupidity
That there might, there might just be
Something better for me

I suffer
Because I can’t stop believing
And I may be stubborn, but
Life, is unrelenting
I try not to, but
I keep bending
People crush me, and walk away
And I raise my head yet again
Too hopeful to accept that
There are no fucking happy endings.

(c)CM
26.11.2016

Greenstick Fractures

Greenstick Fractures

Days after the apology
Mornings of the aftermath
The sky isn’t really blue yet
The pillows still suffer my wrath,
No, I’m not yet okay
And I don’t know why it’s so
Difficult to wash with a thousand ‘sorry’s
The blood off a bruised ego
Bared in the light of day
My vision blurs, at the oddest times
The world is gray, semi permanently
You riddled holes through which colors leached away
Even your smile doesn’t stand out to me

I don’t know, maybe I can’t see
Maybe I don’t want to see

Let’s count this one as a lesson learnt
Even love needs some time to fill fury’s cracks
Pride does not suffer greenstick fractures
Spines can bend till they break, and not always
Grow back
No amount of alcohol can atone for
A drunken night’s sins
Even angry words are more potent when laced
With whiskey
You’re hung over, and I’m struggling to re paint my sunrises
Rather ineffectively
And I can’t
-you need to hold the brush
Because these are colors
You have to give back to me

©CM
13.11.2016