There is a beauty in your madness.

There is an allure to the way the sun

kisses your sweat-drenched Oreo-coloured skin.

There is grace in the way your skin peels off your

hard-knocked life knuckles.

There is a charm in the way your left eye shuts tight,

blind to not only your wrongs but the aching emptiness in my heart.


There is faith in your addiction.

There is trust in the fact that the seventh empty bottle

will wipe away your seven sins leaving only a genesis

for fresh mistakes.

There is a belief that the higher power you seek cannot

be found on your knees but only present at the strike of a match.

The hope you have that the needle will always find a vein is the

same hope I hold to be the only thing to give you relief.


There is devotion in your disgust.

There is concern for the designs you splatter on the meatsuit

canvas I wear, making sure they are for my eyes only.

There is loyalty in the poison that slithers out of your mouth

with my mind drinking it all whilst the rest sip on your sweetened-promises.

There is fondness in how my circle is much tighter than your

hands around my neck so that me, and myself and I is always You.


Your do as I say is my DNA.


For me to find beauty in you simply means that the madness shall

continue to reside in me.


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