SOL: Scarlet

Lit a match, burned the effigy
Devoured his ego from the
Inside out, innermost desires
Dripping down face, satiating pores
I want him in his rawest form
Ripped apart, put back together
Infused with my fingerprints
The last shaky breath from my
Lungs as I come dissolving
On his tongue
The first letter of my name
Wrapping in cursive around
His brain, driving him
Insane

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Steady As She Comes.”

SOL: Fabled

Slow dancing in a tsunami at
Midnight, bittersweet longing for
Disaster reflected in his eyes
Clench of teeth followed by atmospheric
Pressure release in each kiss
Locked limbs believing
It will never feel better than
This; the intoxicating knowledge of
Nothing left to lose
Each moment growing more savage
Riding waves of definite destruction
You open your mouth to worlds
Down below, secure in belief
Your devotion will keep you
From being deceived
Slipping off lies and wearing
The empresses’ new clothes
Body and soul, it feels much better
When you relinquish all control

3AM Thoughts // AKA “If You Can’t See It, You’re Not Ready.”

SOL: Sanctimonious

I slept with him and stole
His photos – he saw them reproduced and
Blamed me for
Appropriating his intellect, claimed
I had stolen his essence; scorned me for being
Devoid of ethics.
I sent him a reply months later by post
Asking him why he abhorred my actions of
Deceit when he had so adored the
Same insidiousness between sheets.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “The Hypocrisy of Men.”

SOL: Negligent

I remember her body like Corradini
Hard as stone until caressed, brought to
Life under nimble fingers, made soft, angelic
Vengeful Medusa, nimble queen
Elusive garden surrounded by
Rose-filled walls you would be
Best off not to climb, esa rosita tiene espinas
The smell she exudes is always
Tender, but even honey tastes sweet until
You feel the sting, enchanting with a smile like a
Lighthouse, shining through the darkness to
Help everyone else, never thinking to keep
Enough to save herself

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Strong Bones, Made for Storms.”

SOL: Ingenious

Tell me more of addiction
He says, picking nails at the
End of the bed as I stretch
Emitting purrs like a feline
Languidly checking my back for
Bite marks
Answering his question
Through intentional absence
As the daylight crawls and
Falls over the sandstone walls

3AM Thoughts // AKA “A Habit, A Destructive Vice, A Toll.”

SOL: Malevolence

Your depression doesn’t make you
A better artist –
You aren’t even an artist now.
You write dried up, worn out, reused metaphors to
Try and cover the regurgitated plots in your shitty prose:
He loved me and I left him,
I adored her and it was never enough.

Your fake epousing of wisdom isn’t worth the
Plane ticket you bought to another country,
Trying to douse the North American off of you like a cheap perfume.
Buying a different accent, a stranger lifestyle,
A few voyeuristic stories to tell through loose lips to tight friends.
You are a fucking fraud and it seeps from your skin
It pulls one side of your smile down like
Rotting wallpaper drops to old wooden floors.
Your mind is evil, your thoughts are despicable –
There is something growing toxic within you
Eating you alive from the inside out.
Vileness, treachery and a cunning
Set of linguistics round you out but
You are not worth the
Time or effort, and soon
He will have had enough.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “My Intrusiveness Bleeds Elusiveness.”