Inhumanly Friend
Today You Spilled My Soul
When Pigs Fly
The Trip
Stillborn Soul
Manifesto of the Head
Left Behind
of light and madness
To a Friend (hurting inside)
Turning Nocturnal
Goddess Celeste

To My Princess Daphne
Tis' The Season For No Reason
Port des Horreurs
Lost & Found
3 a.m. Ravens of a Lunatic
The Crucified Man
Mother Earth
An Agnostic Descent
Muy Caliente Patty

Eddie the Head
"Just" Eyes
Eddie the Terminator
Property Of The Black Widow
Flowers Are Evil
Insane In The Membrane
Salad or Deli

Port des Horreurs
November 18, 2013

I know why we met.
I know the reason for the pain it caused.
You did nothing at all. And therein lies the sin.

One heart looks up and another looks down.
Who knows the reason?
Where is the brush that paints our soul?
It paints mine black and blue!

You put your hand on my cheek,
and I mistook it for affection.

I'm always doing things like that.

It wasn't a slap, but it still left a mark.

"Don't ever forget!" you'd said to me,
and through a simple act of kindness, cut.

"And don't ever regret it," I say to you now!
For our unfruitful encounter was not in vain.
It was a sharp tool tucked away
to remind myself how to hurt
when nothing else could do the trick.
And that is why we met,
though it took a long time for me to find the reason.

Did it hurt you when you had to hurt me to be gentle?
If it did, I never meant to hurt you — not even that much!

Cocaine Kiss
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All poems and stories on this web page are (C)Copyright 1996 - 1999 by Ronald Rand.