Vocal Rest

A mishap-
The shortest lapse-
The drugs wore off revealing a gap in my defenses
And I screamed
Low, gutteral, then a blood-curdling wail,
A relentless scream that scratched my vocal cords raw,
I screamed until the air was humid with saliva and traces of blood
Because being whatever this is without you here still hurts as much as it did the first day.
I'll clean this fucking medicine cabinet, cleaning cabinet, liquor cabinet-
Whatever substance can keep me numb,
Because you hurt like a silent scream.

Feeling like a failure,
Every time someone else expects me to find something I want for myself
How many times will they remind me-
My only halfhearted purpose,
To fulfill some obligation out of guilt they instill,
And apologizing the whole time for wanting to die.

I keep on going,
Though I'm slipping up a little more each day,
I've no objective,
No means to justify a life that's spent this way,
My soul is longing,
It's a tired thing that sweetly calls for home,
This carnal prison,
Echoed upon in every novice poem,
Why hang on to this,
If you really cared you wouldn't even think,
With quiet permission,
You put this soul to rest with poisoned drink.

The Reprecussions of Taking Endymion's Heart

I never want to sleep again,
I want to stay awake for days,
Till my withered heart gives up this game,
To my psychotic stimmed-up haze,

I'll find the means to pay the man,
That steers this ferry through,
I'll sell every possession,
To snuff out these thoughts of you,

I've given up on dreaming,
Because I cannot bear the part,
Where you hold my soul tight in your arms,
For the dawn to break my heart,

This cycle of remembering,
I cannot bear the pain,
I'll snuff the life of every cell,
As powder slips into each vein

It's taking too much effort for me to stay alive,
It's taking much more sleepless nights to nod off when I drive,
It's taking far too many drugs just to numb myself of you;
It's taking too much heartache for me to want to see this through

Frustration

The sad truth of the matter shows itself
It's there in every ignorant statement about not letting you win
Each lackluster encouragement echoes with the hollow sounds
Of hollow headed people who must not care to remember
They don't recall the broken boy I was six years ago
The boy who worked over four hundred days until a hospitalization gave me a night off
The boy who purchased a garden hose and some tape the same month I met you
The broken boy who, at an invitation, met someone that night instead of filling my lungs and my chevy metro with carbon monoxide
An exhausted boy yearning to be filled with exhaust

Obscurity

Like the widow of a sailor,
Whose love was taken by the sea,
Neptune hid from her the body,
That would dispel her fantasy,

The ruler of my House,
Leaves you deaf to every prayer,
And without true confirmation,
I still believe inside you care.

Those Days

It's not that I forget how to be someone without you,
It's that to be yours' meant burying that man,
Will you be the one to bury me now?

I worked again today with just two hours rest,
Stiff from sleeping on the couch with my shoes on-fully dressed,
Working till the other staff have gone home for the day,
Working till burst vesicles leave my eyes a dusky gray,

Returning home fills me with dread, I'm a pious anchorite,
And filled to brim with loneliness I trudge on through the night,
Nothing to distract me from the thought that you are gone,
Except the empty thoughts of well-wishers who urge me to move on,

Their thoughts are well-intended but they're selfish nonetheless,
It's not my happiness they want- they're avoiding their duress,
And when I reach down for my phone because I quickly think of you,
It rips me back to shreds because I can't accept we're through,

If there was value in the health I've lost or in the tears I've cried,
You'd think it were worth nothing with how they view my suicide,
As if it were some idle threat to draw upon their care,
As if their barren sympathies could patch up this great a tear.

Baum Broken

I should've been more wary when the Tin Man fixed his heart,
I should've known that at his prime we'd quickly grow apart,
I should've been the one to think, but he's the one who had the brain,
I should've stopped that crooked wizard once he told you to abstain.

I should've pulled you from the emerald greens and washed you clean with crystal blues,
I should've shown you that real magic doesn't need those silver shoes,
I should've shown you that real happiness doesn't come from witches slain,
I should've shown you broken china dolls can be glued back whole again,

I should've been the mouse to guide you through those deadly poppy fields,
I should've brought you to the sorceress to see that truth is what she yields,
I should've shown you home is not a place along a road of golden brick,
I should've woke you from your fever dreams instead of letting you stay sick.

I should've begged you for forgiveness from atop my post for scaring crows,
I should've dropped a house on every bitch who came in stomping on your toes,
I should've roared with lion's courage at vices pulling me below,
I should've shown you smoke and mirrors will only stunt your chance to grow,

I should've shown you that despite the wreckage of a twister on the farm,
I should've shown you love will save so much; that it can save you from that harm.
I should've spun you tales of  sweet Lurline, so you could see the work of Gods,
I should've shown that even deadly deserts can be traversed against the odds,

I should've shown you that despite your age, you may just have some more to learn,
I should've stabilized those heartbeats with 3 c`licks, a wish, and turn,
I should've made it known to all the world I'm returning to the dust.
I should've pulled the emerald shades instead, freed you up from greed and lust.

He washes the blood,
That which covers the floor of this room,
Scrubs the grease-scrubs the mud,
In hallowed halls meant to serve as his tomb,

Because death is a gift,
One that he'd be in luck to receive,
To use love as a lift,
Instead silence reminds him to grieve,

Don't you feel the disgust?
Because in six years your body has aged,
You no longer draw lust,
In no time he'll have some new boy caged,

It's okay to laugh out,
What a joke that you thought you'd suffice,
He was in a brief drought,
You were only to sustain his vice,

Men like him, men like us,
Dissociating to handle the hours,
Not one to fight or to fuss,
Or resist the deep pain that devours,

I would die for your cause,
I would shape up these muscles-I would slice back the skin,
I would go without pause,
Lobotomizing this brain, use me just for your sin,

You could make me a husk,
One that keeps all your secrets but has none to relay,
You could forget me till dusk,
Till the worms eat my body and you throw me away. 

I pray that Selene is just a bit more merciful,
That she wakes the next dreaming boy,
Before you set upon his innocence,
with your three or four minutes of anticlimactic sex

I want to crash,
Needing a literal smashing of my skull to justify this figurative ache,
I want splinters of your bones in my hands,
Your ripped up veins like stretched out licorice ropes,
Pouring out the life force you deprived of me.

Lips trembling, though agape,
at the realization that comes,
whispered in the silence of those fairweather friends,
as tired of me as you are I suppose.
The abject horror,
I cry until these methamphetamine tears begin to bore acid holes in my throat and I scratch my face in a vain attempt to staunch the searing pain.

I choke until I vomit. I vomit blood that pours through gaps in my malnourished teeth and rotting gums. I've been bleeding like this for weeks but to my dismay it doesn't seem to have any major affect on my health.

I concede to my fate.
I'm sick
Sick from the world that rejected everything I ever tried to make beautiful.
Because I am not beautiful.
Because everyone who claims their love only does so when it's convenient.
They look away from the blood I wipe from the corner of my mouth.
They ignore the strange phone calls.
Fix your life, Michael, you're no good to us broken.

I don't want to be good to any of you anymore.
I wanted to drown myself in love for someone so deep that it opens the eyes of every incarnation we have ever been,
But I'm damn sure I can emulate this feeling with enough drugs and a bathtub filled with extension cords- and a final fuck you.

Each new fruit tastes of ashes when my curse sets in your throat

We have so much in common; more than just a solar sign,
And this assumption made me think this love was yours' and mine,
It's not as if you had to say it; you know I see between each line,
And every minute of this heartbreak surmounts the tension in my spine,

A child swept up in your eyes; each dream in greens and blues,
Willing to ignore the world and just sink into those hues,
My love was ever-growing; and still each day it accrues,
Devotion was to bleed for you and to take each scar and bruise,

I will not say you're evil; merely wounded by what's real,
And it was wicked of me to reteach you how to feel,
But don't try to claim ignorance; you knew as much about the deal,
 For every night spent in my bed, a barrier I get to peel,

Consigned to ever-drowning; we spun straight down into hell,
How conscious were we of this fact even I will never tell,
You need to take ownership of it; not to blame that you're unwell,
Because men hold fast to lovers when they hear the dirge's knell,

 I'm sorry that I asked for help; that I maybe hurt your pride,
Forgive me for my wicked nature that sought to light you from inside,
I apologize for your loss of comfort; that I mentioned suicide,
And most of all that now you know how much your soul has died.