Jours et Nuits

There’s a discord,

between me and reality.

I’m living but I’m really not.

I’m breathing, but it’s artificial.

I keep feeling stuck,

But I have no idea on who to call.

I’m having another sleepless night

There’s a war raging within me.

I keep fighting the deep abyss,

I keep fighting gravity.

I keep soldiering on.

I keep walking on.

-N

Je Déteste Quand La Chaleur Est Prévu

You’re angry.

You’re apprehensively aroused.

This unemotional object that I’ve seem to become.

This listless,

phlegmatic,

dispassionate,

woman I’ve become.

You look genuinely perplexed as to why I have become this soulless robot.

As if the dirty thong in your pants pocket wasn’t obvious enough on laundry day.

Question,

Avez-vous essuye les jus de la chatte sale votre visage quand vous etes venu chez moi embrasser?

Huh?

No?

Cat got your tongue?

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned they say.

Hell hath no fury like a woman.

Hell hath no fury.

Hell.

You.

Huh, It fits.

-N

Où Ai-Je L’esprit

I am my own worst enemy.

I am the problem that keeps getting in the way.

People love to blame another.

They love to think of something,

That made them go asunder.

The evil that lies within the earth.

The negative down under.

What if it was just us?

What if we held ourselves back?

What if I am the invisible line that I cannot cross?

-N

Minuit Confession Du Pécheur

Twisting and turning in this bed.

Legs in a vise grip.

Air levels are depleting.

Gasping for acceptance,

Gasping for love,

Gasping for truth,

Gasping for understanding.

I am a huge contradiction.

I am the thing I fear the most.

I shake my head no,

But spread my legs,

In desperate anticipation,

For the devil’s euphoric stroke and flow.

My chest heaves anxiously,

For his talented tongue to taste my skin,

I need this sin.

My nipples tighten in practiced rhapsody,

For the soulless being taking me to ecstasy.

My core soaks in abject blasphemy,

For the ignorant bliss he brings for the night.

Suffocation is here,

The man in black has [finally] re-appeared.

My affinity for the sinful,

For the debauchery,

For the unattainable,

Will be the death of me.

-N

The Hidden Snake

I hurt from the pain I see.

I can’t stop these tears that awash my face.

There is a terrorist attack happening,

And It’s on my people.

My people are being

Killed,

Raped,

Choked,

Sprayed,

Targeted,

Hunted,

Treated like animals,

Treated as If we don’t exist,

As If we don’t matter.

I am lost,

I am somewhere.

My body longs for freedom.

To soar above the clouds,

Away from oppression,

Away from man.

I long to call for help,

To call a SOS.

But the people I would normally call,

In a time of need,

Are intent on persecuting me.

I see no win.

I see no escape.

I feel my people’s pain.

I hear their cry.

Will the Pharoahs of the world ever let us out of our bonds?

How long before God hears our prayer?

I am even being hunted in God’s sanctuary!

When will my people find release?

When will my people ever be avenged?

-N

A Vise Like Grip

Night falls, and she feels awakened.
The goddess yawns and stretches.
The start of her day is here.

She looks for the weak,
The innocent minded,
The mentally insane.
Those are her comrades for the night.

She breathes in the fresh piss-scented air.
She laughs joyously upon hearing the sounds
Of debauchery, and whispered dares.

“Je veux baiser!” she yells through the alleyways.
“Je veux le chaos!” she screams to anyone who will listen.

She cried for an angel,
But received a demon.
And for that she will have her vengeance.

-N

They Say Communication Saves Relations

When I was tired,
You kept me uptight and wired.
When You needed a hand,
I gave you a leg to stand.
In the grand scheme of things I feel scammed.

You speak,
But I command.
You sneak
I had to learn your technique.

I need a healing balm.
Instead I’m faced with a bomb.
Day in, Day out,
A bomb.

I can’t keep holding on.
I can’t be a spawn,
In this con.

I’ve put on my red chiffon.
I’m gone.

-N