#84 - I like to think I can twist the words (and poison them)

I love to twist the words,
whispering them what I want them to say.
They obey, mostly they do,
but I still have so much to learn.
(I love making them scream)

I feel like a hivemind,
thinking what I want to say
and seeing it appear almost magically in front of me.
(I read them several times just in case I can subtract them another limb)

But sometimes it does not work out.
Some words escape, slippering through the threads of my mind.
When that happens i just wait
for them to lower their guard.
(When that happens I wait to poison them after)

As in here, right now,
exhausted by the weight of the day,
I am coloring so many emotions
searching for answers inside.
(So I end up vomiting the poisoned blood on the screen)

#83

I want to paint you in the back of my mind,
blooming one atom at a time.
I'll be watching you form yourself slowly,
waiting to finally see you alive.

I want to sculpt you in the back of my head
with the slices of my heart that I have reserved for you.
Then we could watch together the stars of my eyes explode,

and I would tell you the stories of my past supernovas.

We could leave some words unsaid
so we can get back to them later
and see each other again.
I am already thinking what will I wear.

My friend, I yearn for your voice,
for your company and your secrets.
It has been a while since you came to the garden,
and I can't wait to see your existance.

My friend, please, come near.
You have been everything I needed again to hear.
You have been everything I needed to heal.