Deeper

Human beings and our natural attraction to the diabolical.

My capacity for profound

emotion;

voids carved by past

pain, filled to the brim with temporary

vices, wine and herbal

remedies, self-medication,

weary eyes,

hardened heart.

A cynic.

I speak harshly, shivering

in bed, cursing at the

moonlight cast over me,

awaiting dreams to flood

my stream of consciousness.

An attraction to dark things,

a fascination with the diabolical.

A fountain pen that won’t

stop pouring my emotions onto

the page, lined with

black marks of separation

anxiety when I’m

all alone, drowning my sorrows in

Cabernet Sauvignon and

heavy smoke.