Fish

The shudder of the cosmos shrieks in sorrow 'cross the veil,
Longing to prevent that piece of star from being torn,
I cannot put in words the wisdom carried from this gale,
It comes to those who recall the things they were before they're born,
If warmth and air bring you the comfort of that precious breath of life,
Remember that the frigid waters of the Styx are where I dwell,
I'm not accusing you of ignorance- I can taste your grief and strife,
But they are naught to damnation deep within the frozen lakes of hell

Weaver

Upon your mind the impulse raids,
The weaver weaving Weaver shades,

Sordid secrets in your loom are spun,
And every Weaver loves a gun,

In tapestries of surging tide,
I see your lust for homicide,

Matrilinial countenance upon your face,
How she would hate it take that place,

Upon the starry eyes of a loving child,
Who choked back tears and only smiled,

Do you feel that bloodlust setting in?
That Ray did when he couldn't win?

Or will you join, instead, your mother?
Because every Weaver takes another.

Angelica archangelica

Walking with the Nephilim in the world before the flood,
Metatron was sealed inside a mass of flesh and blood,
Serving now as Enoch, collecting all of mankind's tears
He was then called to the Throne of God- for his work of many years,

And it is he Who is Like God? This creature, Mikha'el,
Who looks upon this empty world and awaits the war with Hell,
And no amount of magic or his grasp of Shades from Sheol,
Will ever be enough to staunch the heartache of the fool

Until the final breath draws out of the lungs inside my chest,
I'll still hold onto the belief that all is for the best,
And when the earth is finally gone, and the new world comes to be,
I only hope that unlike Enoch; I will be set free. 

Laura

The sex and sweat and blood and guts; a vision of the true and insane
Laura Palmer
The greedy men who did you wrong all rushed up in a sweep of cocaine

Method

melt and render, crack and break
and take
and take
and take
and take

growing numb to this steady ache
that hurts me every time I wake

the smell of roasting skin in a hellfire bake
made for the sins I oft partake

cut some slack for damnation's sake
already burning at the stake

Changeling

Overcome with anguish each time I wake up in this skin,
Longing every moment for someone who understands,
Who would want to know this feeling and to sense my form within?

My goals are earned for others' sake; I work to make this body thin,
Keeping suicidal thoughts at bay by taking on crushing demands,
Overcome with anguish each time I wake up in this skin,

But lofty goals are difficult when you'd rather die than win,
And feeling like an object when they crave my mouth and hands,
Who would want to know this feeling and to sense my form within?

I'm waved off as melodramatic or accused of sordid spin,
For my way of knowing people and the things their heart commands,
Overcome with anguish each time I wake up in this skin,

I think back to the ghostly child who felt the brush of ancient kin,
Who evoked the fear in feeble men more oft than finding any fans,
Who would want to know this feeling and to sense my form within?

Whether fair folk be, aos sidhe, a demon, or a djinn,
I only say with certainty that I hail from distant lands,
Overcome with anguish each time I wake up in this skin,
Who would want to know this feeling and to sense my form within?  

Catching Up

If you counted my initiatives each dark and lonely morning
The amount of times I said I'd form the words that are adorning-

the fragile grasp I have on life as the ice forms slick and stealthy
as I try to do it right this time- as I try to keep this healthy

I'm weighted by the choices that I cannot seem to shake
The patterns and the habits that I never truly break

The method to my madness that once left me nearly dead
I'm aware of repetition and the resultant sense of dread

And though I fear much for my safety; I'm far more concerned with you
I get so wracked in shame and guilt and waiting for my queue

I can't believe just how much love for you I did procure
That chance that I would let you down is too much to endure

I tried to warn you early on that I was not a winning prize
That I'm rife with woe and oftentimes don't function betwixt the thighs

I'm not sure where I'm going next or how to find a resolution
The days of anhedonia deprive me of the drive for a solution

I just hope you know my time with you has been my greatest solace
And I hope I do not burden you with this path- wayward and goalless

Poisonous

It's powder
in liquid
it's callous
intrepid
its onset
rapid
its user
vapid
it's potent powder
in lurid liquid
it's carelessly callous
but intrepid
and its onset
so rapid
damn its user
so vapid
it's just potent powder
poured in lurid liquid
listen it's carelessly callous
wicked but intrepid
and its fucking onset
starts so rapid
loving its user
he's so vapid

Indeblue

Of Kisses
     Of Cardamom
          Of Curry

That grin that warms me up and that laugh that fills my soul

Of Sensuality
     Of Cinnamon
          Of Sauces

I've always been a sucker for piercing blue eyes

Of Love
     Of Lavender
          Of Lamb chops

The smell of arousal that wafts from your skin

Wet

Waterlogged
Sopping wet from rain, rain, rain
The putrid smell of stagnant water
Mixed with soil and wriggling larvae
The spores of mold setting in
To leatherbound tomes
Hardcover masterpieces
Paperback pleasures
The collected wonders of a lifetime

How audacious of me to speak out against
The seized labors of my hard work
An unauthorized theft of gifts from lovers
Shut up and just be thankful
They've been made to resemble you

Waterlogged
Spilling blood from pain, pain, pain
The putrid smell of addled tears
Mixed with amphetamines and moth dust
The spores of resentment setting in
To aching muscles
Hardened hearts
Placated pleasantries
The collected bitterness of a lifetime

Home

Years
I was made of smoke and ice
For Years
Before I ever smoked ice
All of those Years
That it took me to grow the mycelium
Taking root o'er the Years
Growing a crystalline crust of salt
Those sparkling layers deprived of their Years
Every memory of the lepidoptera I raised
Tossed in a wastebasket to rot in the Years
I'm expected not only to keep calm
But thankful that I've lost those Years
Working toward little things that make me smile
And humble and sullen and reminded
Not of progress, but only of Years
Where I was broken and dejected
How audacious of me to assert my healing
When all of the Years
I lived a life I wouldn't wish on another
Those Years
Are all you'll permit me to exist in
Years
You know nothing of Years Years Years

The Walrus and The Carpenter II

If you ever love a Selkie; you have to let him swim,
You have to find acceptance as he courses whim to whim,
If you ever try to catch a fish as he shifts in murky sands,
Your hold better be gentle or he'll slip right from your hands,

If you ever try to love a man with scales instead of wings,
Remember this is not his world and the kind of pain that brings,
If you ever need to take some time to sort out your clouded head,
Remember in those spans of time he has lingered with the dead,

If you ever spend your time with fishes swimming north and south,
Try to imagine what they hear from the words poured from your mouth,
If you ever look into their eyes and see that haunting light,
Try to see the stormy ship that trudges through the night,

If you ever pull back hesitant from the warmth felt from their touch,
Be prepared for icy gales when they feel they've been too much,
If you ever try to dry the seas with gusts of thoughtful air,
Be prepared to smell the blood of wounds you've opened there.

I know you want like carbon if cream rises to the top

I know you want this victory to be done for myself,
I know you want to avoid the pedestal or even a higher shelf,
I know you want these recent gains to tie back to my core,
But I hope in time you accept that you steered me to the door,

Like carbon crushed to diamond in that analogy I hate,
Like carbon graphene influenced nanotubes; you influence who you date,
Like carbon nanotubes unleashed new leads; you lead me to success,
But I hope in time that leads to pride instead of causing you duress,

If cream rises to the top, then I'm butterfat- the best,
If cream rises to the top then I'll be thankful for all I'm blessed,
If cream rises to the top then you aren't mixed in all the milk,
But I hope in time you see yourself as marvelous with an ease as smooth as silk.

Selenite and Feldspar in his Box of Zeal

I had to leave you dreaming in that silken swath of bed,
With trepidation I tiptoed to the door,
I had to put in writing all the thoughts stuck in my head

I'm sure there's much you had to do and yet you gave your time instead,
Embarrassed that I loved it so and still I crave for more,
I had to leave you dreaming in that silken swath of bed,

This tender heart of mine beat fast and eagerly it bled,
Melodrama may be my way but I can fuck just like a whore,
I had to put in writing all the thoughts stuck in my head,

Barbecue sauce on fingertips touch lips so kindly fed,
And tomatoes from the market will surpass those from any store,
I had to leave you dreaming in that silken swath of bed,

A sobbing mess at movies tearing up a loaf of bread,
And vanquishing the queen of weeds was an energizing chore,
I had to put in writing all the thoughts stuck in my head,

These memories I'm making with you make me long for life instead,
The possibilities are endless I have hopes and hymns galore,
I had to leave you dreaming in that silken swath of bed,
I had to put in writing all the thoughts stuck in my head.

You should be some sort of motivational speaker

Oftentimes I found the hardest pills to swallow-
Could be crushed up and snorted instead,
So the singsong advice you're so eager for me to follow,
Is really the same advice that nearly rendered me dead.
I feel sick to my stomach, I'm sick down deep in my marrow,
And filling up inside with this dread,
Filling up all that space that you claim is so hollow,
Choking up all the wisdom that I'm being force fed,
I smell the fat blackened, all the gristle and tallow,
Where now I'm so sluggish I once quickly sped,
To this temple where all that you hail and you hallow,
Reeks of the dead parts around me I shed

This fucking lunar eclipse

Can't you feel the pressure pulling pools of pristine ocean blue?
The tension in the tender tugging of the veins inside of you?
The stomach-churning staccato that feels like spinning out on stilts?
The weather wearing down the whetstone where the workman worrys and wilts?

Midnight pacing

Kissing
Rolling in warm sheets and blankets
Shielded and protected from worrying
I love you
I love you
I love you
Greeting the dawn with you is somewhat of a stretch
You're up before then
It's somewhat amusing that the time I reserved for my private hours eclipses yours'
I love you
I love you
I love you
For the little it's worth
For all that I'm worth
If that worth were worthy of your love
I'll kiss you
Roll you in warm sheets and blankets
Shield and protect you from worry
I love you
I love you
I love you

Calm

Love with you takes time,
That's why the hours melt away so fast,
It's love that's packed in water and salt,
Not the heavy sugar syrup that I cherished in the past,
Love with you is what it is,
It's not enlarged to show the texture or removed of all the pits,
It's love that tastes of bleeding,
Because this love means staying sober and bearing life with our wits,
Love with you makes me smile,
Even with tears in my eyes I find I'm grinning ear-to-ear,
It's the feeling in the dead of night,
I finally found someone to assuage me of my fear.

Cohabitation

I rinse the sorrows off your body as I nestle in your hair,

The hair that smells like heather in the steaming summer rain,

And still I go unsatisfied despite the fact you care,

I swear it's not intentional; this sadness in my stare,

It's just that I'm addicted to you taking in my pain,

I rinse the sorrows off your body as I nestle in your hair,

And really who could blame me? For your time just won't compare,

Each minute I take greedily till I'm caught up in disdain,

And still I go unsatisfied despite the fact you care,

You know it's really not polite for such a pretty thing to glare,

Or better yet manipulate; your bloodied sleeves to feign,

I rinse the sorrows off your body as I nestle in your hair,

I'm clinging much too close to you, but it's all that I can bare,

I know you must grow weary of the precious things I stain,

And still I go unsatisfied despite the fact you care,

But stars ordained us lovers once; and still we're quite a pair,

Your tragic heart that turned to salt and my gruesome Mark of Cain,

I rinse the sorrows off your body as I nestle in your hair,

And still I go unsatisfied despite the fact you care.

Extraordinary

I've been accused of being distant and of drifting like a ghost,
I've been in love with several souls with a love stronger than most,
I've been a hapless, hopeless wreck quelling kindness just to boast,
I've been perceived a parasite who is feeding off a host,

I've made a few poor choices; some for others but all on my accord,
I've made the walls in lovers crumble till blood poured and poured and poured,
I've made a living dealing with life and death; sucking sorrows by the horde,
I've made the damned stand judgement against St. Michæl with his sword,

I've prayed to God the Father to care for everyone; whether family, foe, or friend,
I've prayed to Selene the Titan to strengthen stitches of the broken hearts I mend,
I've prayed to Ogun the Lwa to break any will that refuses to flex or to bend,
I've prayed to Samæl the Fallen to remember his origin when we come to The End,


I've been the one to hope the winds have merely moved the post,
I've made a grave to sleep in soundly but in death I soon grew bored,
I've prayed that I can heal in hiding and they respect why I pretend,
I've been broken, made a mess, and prayed to somehow stay adored

Major Arcana

deluding The Fool is easy; that's not to say it doesn't hurt
The Magician fought you back; he was outright unkind
rebuking The High Priestess; he knew her intent
The Empress feed; eyes swollen with avarice for love and desire
desperate The Emperor bleeds; permitting this to happen all the time
The Hierophant lies; spontaneity is simply not their nature
ridiculously The Lovers commiserate; but that doesn't make this behavior okay
The Chariot assuaged me; I smirked and fell for it yet again
convinced The Hermit has changed; that I must've been wrong to doubt
The Strength I possess; the fact that I know your nature
now The Wheel of Fortune turns; it's like I'm perpetually paying for my past
Justice administered discreetly; how disingenuous those assertions must have been
while The Hanged Man beseeches; they have no escape from their prison
Death personified; but recoils from their role in repulsion
what Temperance is required; what kind of mendacity will you be using this evening?
The Devil shouldn't be teased; don't think it won't catch up
eventually The Tower falls; and you're not ready for that kind of hardship
The Star extinguished; the kind of realism that rots your dreams
deceptively The Moon hides; you only see the silver lining till the rust spreads out that far
The Sun can burn out dreams; the constant upbeat world limits your growth
swift Judgement is reckless; but wavering conviction is what comes from delay
The World awaits; it's time to admit your intentions

Amanda

I cannot believe I'm just now seeing
the ace of spades that blends so neatly up your sleeve
so much more clever than I'd imagined
poor estimation on my part on your potential to deceive
thankfully I know my trust is valid
retribution of that nature is not your style
you already had this down before I met you
a mastery of keeping all your secrets in your smile
now I see the darker God under the bodice
I'm looking at the demon diverting eyes
the passing years have peeled away my layers
but you deflected observation with your stares toward somber skies
it really is remarkable your talent
that I'm unsure how much of you I know
a grave mistake was to mistake your graves for empty
and forgetting their existence in the beauty of the snow

Regrets

Not saying I wasn't victimized- that part I think we know is fair,
But it was wrong for me claim the feeling wasn't there,
While buried in the evidence, adorned with signs you care,
I'm sorry for exhausting you in every minute you could spare,

I wish I hadn't canceled plans, or I hadn't worked so long,
I'm sorry that I lost my way once you needed someone strong,
For all those careless mishaps in my yearning to belong,
That I took stabs at your character when I felt that you were wrong,

Now I'm not throwing in maturity or the innocence of youth,
For most of it's facetious and we both can see the truth,
It was wrong to point out heartlessness in your poise and social couth,
And I never should have played detective or acted as the sleuth,

Each day I wake up from this bed I made, knowing quite well what I've done,
Then in pure Pisces delusion I distract myself with fun,
Because I've busted all my starlight dreams, I've burned out my own sun,
Too wary of surviving poison- too goddamn scared to use a gun,

So I'm just telling you I'm sorry, that I get I caused pain too,
That each time your light grew fiery red, I dowsed it with my blue,
Swallowing pride I conveyed a wish that someone you should pursue,
Just don't lost the notion once that comes that I always have loved you.

You're smiling at me because you think that it's working,
While we lay in this bed both with tasks and chores shirking,
There's a gleam in your eyes, you're still laughing and smirking,
Those muscles should contract into running- not this twisting and jerking,
Before you're caught unexpected by what's waiting and lurking

The House of Air

I see the value now of the House of Air

braying, some kind of ancient gale

that blows off the dust

collected upon and adorning everything I treasure

making them feel new and alive

how incredible it is; your ability to restore

even the most ancient of beings

by tapering your shrill force to a gentle breeze

a whisper in my ear

a movement across my lips

you've pinned my heart to a clothesline

and swayed it in your breeze

Libra

Like the swirling cocoa in his coffee,
his laughter rolls in warm and thick,
his saccharine soul it coats my weary lips,
Or at the very least it coats my weary dick,

Two hits of him and sure enough I'm addicted to his touch,
And when leaving I'm left craving a fix of other parts,
A reincarnate Libra acting out his ancient role,
He's Anubis with the scales to judge the weight of guilty hearts,

He exists in equilibrium of the body and the mind,
And all the eyes I've been lost in were never quite that blue,
Like the jewel-dust paint of Egypt- they shine deep ultramarine,
The shoals and shores of an Azure sea with men left trembling at the view,

What could I bring to such a man that reeks and tastes of God?
Can I suppress my innate urge to drown him in despair?
How could I ever satisfy the urges of a saint?
The house of water ruptured by the lofty house of air.

you will never be the one she seeks out
at 5am, bleary eyed in the harsh glare of her phone
eager to listen, eager to be heard

I'm still waiting for a night
where I'm not afraid to go to sleep
where waking up won't mean staunching the pain
where it doesn't take a feat of strength just to live with myself
for having not been good enough for you

It's hard to do anything
when everything I've ever done
was to spend the evening in discourse
reporting even the most mundane to the starlight burning in his eyes

Don't you see it doesn't matter?
My hope to submerge,
To keep you in the depths of my love,
Is just a lust- just an urge,
Equally sated by drowning myself in despair.

Advanced Directive

Despite the slight foreshadowing,
Please don't put me in the ground,
Please don't leave me there in such a place,
Where the wind will never touch my face,
Where there'll never be a sound,

I'd rather face my fear of flames,
Than to rest my cells in silk,
Retain some pieces if you need,
But spread the rest like flower seed,
Or mixed in rain-an ashen milk,

I won't feel it there in heaven,
Of course I may feel it from hell,
But to be there I'd feel it anyway,
Until that Revelation day,
When I am slain in carnal shell. 

His

You should've known me when I was great,
When I woke up to face each day,
The whispers of the darkness rolled away,
Cast aside without hesitation,

If you had met me when I was his,
When purpose was given to this existence,
When I had my reason to endure this pain,
Sleeping sweetly above the sounds of deterioration,

I wish you could see my charming glow,
The kind that now I only distantly recall,
Catalyzed, metamorphosed by love,
Shining just as bright as death's ablation

Greg

I ask forgiveness from you, oh gentle child of light,
Your capacity to grasp this depth perhaps caught me off guard,
But the longing for salvation shan't outweigh the calls of night,

Your fingers smell of soil, the verdant life that heals the blight,
But the fat and flesh of fingers will be rendered scorched and charred,
I ask forgiveness from you, oh gentle child of light,

I no longer doubt your prowess, a surprising show of might,
Except you smell of ripened-berry love, not of something raw and marred,
But the longing for salvation shan't outweigh the calls of night,

No question of intention; your morals are plenty right,
Underneath your chainmail armor- I feel the skin upon you scarred,
I ask forgiveness from you, oh gentle child of light,

How strange that gift adorning you has not brought you deeper sight,
Or do you fear of going there and returning mocked and tarred?
But the longing for salvation shan't outweigh the calls of night,

Don't take this sheer dismissal of my loss of urge to fight,
My eyes once shone like yours' my boy, my heart was once as starred,
I ask forgiveness from you, oh gentle child of light,
But the longing for salvation shan't outweigh the calls of  night.

If all you see is the drugs,
you are willfully blind,
choosing to forget the time before them,
basking in the dopamine rush of your love,
the withdrawal of which facilitated my withdrawal,
and a desperate hope to emulate the experience,
that I'll never have again.

Cinco de Mayo

No one was there,
And memories flooded in of you,
The anniversary of such a happy affair,
No one picked up their phones,
As my breathing grew shallow and my muscles seized,
Message Read, Received On, Seen,
As I curled into a ball under my desk,
And screamed into my trembling hands

Lend not fire nor fat nor salt,
The items of mirth and the household gestalt,
Give not thy butter, thy tears, or thy flames,
Unless you know of their weakness; iron scissors and names,
Nary thee give away sparks to thy tallow,
The sweat of thy brow- the blood of thy marrow,

Because the fishes and fairies will promise you wings,
A chance to belong amongst those mystical things,
The warm waters that cleanse you are becoming a broth,
The weight you feel lifted is fat foaming to froth,

Clear out your debts, be sure that they're paid,
Lest your hot water bath be your last marinade,
The ocean that calls them is only salting your skin,
While they season your outsides they pretend to be looking within,

Lend not fire nor fat nor salt,
The items of mirth and the household gestalt.

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. 

I'm finally starting to feel ample portions of my brain cells die

On a fast course of destruction,
Careening on the edge of hell,
With thoughts of imperfection,
Thoughts I'll never get to tell,

My body took this like a champion,
But even heroes have their heel,
Powder stinging like a scorpion,
And the nasal linings peel,

Even in this state I love you,
I always was a bit deranged,
And maybe in some ways I got through,
But despite that nothing changed,

I can't exist as just me only,
The purpose for me here is done,
 My soul is sick and hurt and lonely,
My moonlit night fades from your sun,

Just know I never planned on hurting,
I've always wanted you to smile,
Wanted to wake within you something,
That you could free you from your trial,

And yes I know it's rather selfish,
But please just grant me one request,
Don't leave me to linger in this anguish,
Save us both from that duress,

I will make peace with your choices,
Because I know you'll be just fine,
You'll be surrounded by those voices,
Young and much sweeter than mine.

 

Rhythm and Blues

The promenade and pull of your powerful waltz,
And burning bright- your bolero boils blood,
Does your daring dance deflect your death and faults?

Succumb to sticky slowing, embrace the stagnant halts,
Beware the box-step brings you back through mud,
The promenade and pull of your powerful waltz,

A swift and sweeping samba shows steps surmise gestalts,
And fast and fervent foxtrot freeing feelings- flaking crud,
Does your daring dance deflect your death and faults?

Temptation in your tango, your twisted tempo that time assaults,
Memories march in on your merengue, muddled mysteries start to flood,
The promenade and pull of your powerful waltz,

Cheering chagrin with a cha-cha, chews like lemon juice and salts,
Murmurs muse you in mid-mambo, money to mirage a willing stud,
Does your daring dance deflect your death and faults?

Riddles ripping at your rumba, reminds of remnants in your vaults,
With not a swing or paso doble to hide the idle cattle chewing cud,
The promenade and pull of your powerful waltz,
Does your daring dance deflect your death and faults?

Should I hide my bleeding heart or my deviated septum?

One would have thought after three or four years,
That I could say all this to you without choking down tears,
That'd we'd both reach a point where enough is enough,
Where we'd set down our crosses and unite when it's tough.

But my urges still dwell in procuring our dreams,
Stirring clouds of illusion, blurring facts at the seams,
I'd hush up about every pain in my heart,
If it would catalyze growth; if you would then do your part,

There isn't the muscle, or power, or voice,
To build up your strengths when we're both given choice,
Because the course of inaction, is the one that you'll choose,
Till flesh rots off my bones- till it's sure that I lose.

Perhaps it's because it's a clear source of power,
You can taunt me and promise our love hasn't gone sour,
With assurance you tell me it'll all soon be changing,
That you'll make time for my love with your schedule arranging,

There are very few men on this Earth I can't read,
I can't tell if your thoughts are of love or of greed,
So I put on a smile and I hope for the best,
While the doubts eat my veins, causing pains in my chest.

Because you have to admit, you sure don't like to show it,
We stand on uneven footing, the concealed and the poet,
And perhaps this imbalance feels to you like there's danger,
But I would rather feel risk than feel I'm in love with a stranger,

You're a man who I've seen go wherever he wanted,
And do whatever he pleases- and that thought leaves me haunted,
Because if indeed you're a man who gets all he desires, if it was me that you wanted you'd have rekindled those fires.


 

As I feel my presence fading and remaining as a ghost,
I cherish every moment that I spent inside your eyes,
Those eyes of mixed up thoughts and the surge of northern coast,
You're the keeper of my secrets and my truths amongst the lies,

And if in all this drama I confirm this is the end,
If I could ask one thing of you I want your soul to thrive,
Don't settle for the comforts of the easy way you bend-
the lives in your gasp; the important part is you're alive.

Piscean Plea

Longing to merge,
to delve so deep into you that I'll never feel alone,
desperate to connect to the distant shores of the man you once were and all the men you can be,
your past, present, and future,
a tangible substance I manipulate with surgical precision,
bringing you to the next stage of being- my ultimate gift to give to the one worth receiving it,
the power to heal every piece of you that was forsaken,
I can brush across your fingers the boundless possibilities,
as I listen to every wayward dream of yours' on baited breath,
if you allow yourself to be hurt,
broken by the dark places we will together go,
I can save your soul from this hopeless mortal existence,
betwixt the Earth and the Spirit.
Will you rise to the occasion?
Do you dare to live forever?
Love forever?
Hurt forever?
time will tell if you choose to reject it,
this, my gift to you alone,
before this causeway finally bursts and I drown in my blood

BR

If you dare to seek blue roses,
Be prepared for woe and dread,
Traveling from fading star to expanses far,
While your feet bleed crimson red,

If you dare to seek blue roses,
Of which fabled men sought and died,
Your journey strays over widow's graves,
Across the sea of tears they cried,

If you dare to seek blue roses,
The emblem of your aching heart,
Are you prepared to lose yourself,
When the truth rips you apart?

If you dare to seek blue roses,
God won't let your quest be long,
Their magic older than his shallow power,
Resounding in their secret song,

If you dare to seek blue roses,
You seem to think you can endure,
But they will wilt and die like any creature,
Leaving nothing but a lust for more.

When you coveted a young boy, did you plan to shape his mind?
Did you realize that his brazen youth could leave him vulnerable and blind?
Did you plan to clean the messes of his numerous mistakes?
Did you know you'd be his thoughts in sleep and the first ones when he wakes?

When your soul sought solace in his teen flesh, did you help him guard his heart?
Did you stay candid and honest of your desired role and part?
Did you accept responsibility of your adult dealings with a child?
Did you promise rest to his weary soul if he awoke yours'- fresh and wild?

When you kept him close for many years; held by the vicegrip of his care,
Did you increase responsibility knowing you had been his only pair?
Did you put in every effort to spare his fragile self from pain?
The same that stifled you in boyhood- did you stop the occurrence of the same?  

When he broke down from the pressure and was at his lowest yet,
Did you draw in close to hold him so he could handle each new threat?
Did you pull away your closeness when you felt you had enough?
Did you own up to it like a man or keep him baited with a bluff?

When his confusing crisis amplified by a year withholding sex,
Did you make him feel he could be loved or did you keep up your painful vex?
Did you start then to feel guilty that your disgust had caused him pain,
Did you offer to replace that heartache with an 8-ball of cocaine?

When he thrust himself headfirst in drugs because you broke his sense of worth,
Did you finally say enough's enough to give him some chance of rebirth?
Did you make a firm decision, oh please tell me that you did.
Did you dare to drag him down with you- did you destroy that little kid?

When you sent out your first lude messages to that boy of nineteen years,
Did your life's tribulations remind you he would cry so many tears?
Did you think into the past of when you maybe weren't as strong,
Did you think of older men who hurt you- greedy men who did you wrong?

When he stuck by you through surgeries and more than a fifth of his lifespan,
Did you feel you owed him something so you lied about your plan?
Did you make a decent effort to staunch the bleeding wound you caused?
Did you apologize for breaking him, did you admit to him your flaws?

When he ushered in each sticky climax- seeking only your relief,
Did you reciprocate in turn by taking in some of his grief?
Did you reach out to his loved ones when you knew he couldn't stop,
Did you let him keep on going? Did you wait for him to drop?

When you lauded him with gifts the likes of he'd never seen before,
Did you do it for good reason or did you want him wanting more?
Did you emphatically drain him of each moment of delight?
Did you feel his high was hellish black so you offered him more white?

When you drove up to his parent's house, and he got into your car,
Did you stop his Pisces wonderment from wishing on a star?
Did you caution your intentions or were they honest early on?
Did your feelings fade away with time?
Do you tell him they were gone?

When you coveted a young boy who would soon become a man,
When you guided him upstairs could you tell that his downfall began?
When your palm pressed to his chest and felt his heart and soul intwined,
When you coveted a young boy, did you plan to shape his mind?

Bad Boys

Without a question you would finance,
any fund or bank offshore,
to forgive your lack of romance,
as you promise what's in store,

There's no doubt you would deceive,
you'd lie to me and to yourself,
and in love for you I'll blindly believe,
as a film of dust sets upon this untouched trophy on your shelf,

There's no price you wouldn't pay to prolong your soul's mendacity,
you'll allow just any drug that can supplant your Pisces love,
They'll hear your cries of sworn veracity,
my cause of death adorns you like a glove

The collateral damage of skull fragments embedded in drywall

The histrionic manner in which I live my days,
Is pronounced in every sentiment; in each withered sigh and gaze,
Melodrama may, pull you away, but it's all you'll let me keep,
As my spinal column rots away while you lull in guiltless sleep,

Like my adored Saturniidae, as they flit inside their cage,
Tearing fragile wings like paper; can you hear each splitting page?
Till their stores of fat begin to shrink and the dryness splits their skin,
Will you turn your nose up in disgust when my burst corpse shows you what's within?

Will all the flies and maggots writhing in my gentle heart,
Be a statement to the ravages of time we spent apart?
Or will this somehow be my fault and only mine alone,
As you shirk back to delusion and you raise your walls of stone?

Babe let me make this promise- I won't let it end that way,
If I finally break from all this damage; it's in reality you'll stay,
I will seep like ink of India into every rose-shade thought,
And I'll linger there upon your skin as an ever-present rot.

Banned Ads

Marlboro Man,
soaked with Dom and with scotch,
fiberglass jewels,
on a nicotine watch,

Marlboro Man,
rolling papers to waste,
filters emotions,
to handle their taste,

Marlboro Man,
igniting sparks of charm,
gathers his strength,
to ash out on your arm,

Marlboro Man,
has an ego to stroke,
hiding the fact,
his only substance is smoke,

Marlboro Man,
and his shiny new car,
touches your heart,
to make it gummy with tar,

Marlboro Man,
is a beautiful dancer,
spreading about,
like metastasized cancer.

Your tender flesh is quivering in the darkness of this lot

The lapis in your eyes alights the rose quartz on your breasts,
and any man or woman would be sent into dismay,
When her husk of comfort perishes you'll see just how much you're blessed,

I'll puncture all those fragile veins smearing blood from lips to chests,
I'll draw upon those sparks of sea hiding in your eyes so gray,
The lapis in your eyes alights the rose quartz on your breasts,

My words will lick like honey on your thighs 'gainst your protests,
Our sexual fevers burning up the misconceptions of what's gay,
When her husk of comfort perishes you'll see just how much you're blessed,

You can lie to them that you fought back and uttered your detests,
You can use the deck stacked in your favor and that they'll believe is what you pray,
The lapis in your eyes alights the rose quartz on your breasts,

Why bother with their sympathies of your sullen lows and rests,
When I can build your dearest dreams that haunt you every day,
When her husk of comfort perishes you'll see just how much you're blessed,

It's time to stop regretting the dead soul that you forcefully regressed,
It's time to cut your sticky piece of this sickly slice of pie,
The lapis in your eyes alights the rose quartz on your breasts,
When her husk of comfort perishes you'll see just how much you're blessed.

A few drinks with honest company

The agony of lust dribbles from those somber sips,
The privilege that you must keep those secrets on your lips,
The secrets of your yearning in your wayward teenage days,
The taste of carnal pleasure in your Pisces dreaming haze,
But beware my sweetest child of the monster in your way,
Of the witch who grips nostalgia as the means to hunt her prey.

Hypocrisy

Amazed yet again that you're both lacking shame,
To consider convenience when you call out my name,
More than willing to feed off my heart as its keeper,
But you tred in the shallows afraid to go deeper,
Running fingers in the warmth of my pleasurable wonder,
But retracting your hand from the binge and the blunder,
Leading me on with your small words of kindness,
But exerting no effort to let your light reach my blindness,
It's true I may drown you when you reach from the shore,
That you may lose your firm footing when your soul seeks for more,
But how dare you lap at these pools of disaster,
With a Piscean lure on your cold walls of plaster,
You should both be disgusted by your frozen positions,
At the time that you've lost by not making decisions,
Paralyzed somewhere in reverie- afraid to make changes,
I can't live in such boredom and limited ranges,
But your lust for adventure doesn't deserve to be sated,
You crave only rewards; you're afraid to be hated,
Maybe the six days between you and the span of our distance,
Reaffirms: in like a lion, but the lamb needs assistance,
So either chose to take risk and explore the soul's journey,
Or please cease and desist and let me coast for this gurney

Age of Aries

Thrust into life near-death and fragile,
Six weeks before the scheduled date,
The stars requested sentimental,
 Aries would never be my fate,

But the final house is dark and lonely,
And a language no one understands,
Longing to be your one-and-only,
Coveted for power my word commands,

I seem to fear my soul's salvation,
Premature birth forsook my strength,
By whatever pill or laceration,
 My lifespan was never to be judged by length.

Parasympathetic

My primal instincts,
to run from your treacherous love,
artificially numbed,
replaced with my devotion to die,
my soul content,
to hear your trembling voice apologize to a corpse,
who loved you so.

Blame

When all is considered it isn't really your fault,
O'er five years I left once but returned to your games,
And I gritted through distance and dejection and heartache,
Accepting my ranking on your list of their names,

And I patched up my heartache with potions and powders,
Dreaming and drugging patches don't last for long,
Holding splinters together was better than facing,
That I'm not worth your love- that I'm messed up and wrong,

I watch as the world moves around me and changes,
Till I no longer know who I am- what I'm for,
I should be lucky to have had even one of those evenings,
I should thank you for texting my number for more.

2018

If I choose my path again and set my course for life,
I'd even shed the tender parts that shone with light above,
I'd take a few more pills or would cut deeper with a knife,
Than be poisoned by your romance and the redaction of your love.

Saturnalia Suicide

Sunless Sabbath of Sacred Saturn,
Relentlessly Reflecting Reasons to Regret my Ridiculous Reverie,
of Marriage betwixt Malevolent Men,
Forsake my Fledgling Folly-
Feast upon this Foolish Fancy:

My bleary eyes cast upward in affection,
Gaze on passing lights across an achromatic avenue,
An orchestra gallery of loved ones-
some with tears-
some with worry,
My slightest response brings a smile to the man forefront to an illuminated retable,
Salt air bellows down the frozen flue,
Carrying with it traces of foam from-
the violent crashing waves-
of a ruled-by-Neptune maddened maw,
Not even a grimace when I feel a pinch-
from the ring weighing my oration ,
With hypocritic humor he recites his dearest devotion,
The crowd silences; barely breathing-
I smile as I let go of every care and embrace an ecumenial eternity.

And though it isn't quite how I imagined it,
My heartbreak finds neurotic solace in the irony:

My bleary eyes cast upward in akinesia,
Gaze on passing lights across an achromatic avenue,
An operating gallery of loved ones-
some with tears-
some with worry,
My slightest response brings a smile to the man forefront to a surgery retable,
Salt water bellows down the vulnerable viscera,
Carrying with it seizures of foam from-
the volemic crashing waves-
of my ruled-by-Neptune madman's mouth,
Not even a grimace when I feel a pinch-
from the oximeter reading my vitals,
With Hippocratic fervour he recites his dearest devotion,
The crowd silences; barely breathing-
I smile as I let go of every care and embrace an ego-driven eternity.

It's Better This Way (Villanelle)

Rejecting many chances since the route I chose was slow,
Demanding that you'd love me back or leave,
As my wretched breath's extinguished in the silence of the snow,

The cosmos crudely-spattered with each piece of me you throw,
Without the slightest comfort or reprieve,
Rejecting many chances since the route I chose was slow,

But did you ever love me? Because I'd truly like to know,
It's only one more thing for me to grieve,
As my wretched breath's extinguished in the silence of the snow,

Do you think I stand a chance above, or am I sentenced to below?
For the things I did with my heart upon my sleeve,
Rejecting many chances since the route I chose was slow,

When I reached the ends of being- I needed someone else to grow,
But nothing that I did made you believe,
As my wretched breath's extinguished in the silence of the snow,

Prepared, though sad, to face this and to reap just what I sow,
My end of days to quell a love I can't achieve,
Rejecting many chances since the route I chose was slow,
As my wretched breath's extinguished in the silence of the snow.

His undulating call to darkness bellows like some underwater incubus

Content,
merely to know the primordial call-
will ever-pierce your whitewashed fog,
your room of trashed men in disheveled fur coats,
your fervent manifestation-
the gestalt reality where you find peace,
shalt be torn asunder by my plea,
to see the shadows of the woman I know to be there meddling in the mists of power she pretends not to control

Lovers searching for her name etched amongst the stones

Thick tendrils of clove smoke,
Forming sealskin oil on my coat and gloves,
A cloud- thick, artificial, and cold,
Like burrowing my face in her tressels of peroxide hair,
Both of us reaching onto the transparent echoes of the children we no longer are.

Heartbeat

My vision stirs as the last breath leaves my chest,
In fear I try to push the crushing weight,
In the Voltaire world where all is for the best,

I try to hope that you are this depressed,
That loneliness may humble out the great,
My vision stirs as the last breath leaves my chest,

It seems I'm now the things I did detest,
Insecure- and a fool who took the bait,
In the Voltaire world where all is for the best,

This noxious pain drains me of my rest,
And bile curdles organs filled with hate,
My vision stirs as the last breath leaves my chest,

The bitter pith remains without the zest,
Sardonic mocking of a future date,
In the Voltaire world where all is for the best,

Despite the ruin some might say I'm blessed,
To have every manner of love just dissipate,
My vision stirs as the last breath leaves my chest,
In the Voltaire world where all is for the best.

5am

Only after a listless night in the dark,
do the muted colors of dawn,
burn like fire across the horizon

It comes for us all

The skin that once was coveted hangs from four untouched limbs,
the voice that warbled cheerily
no longer sings those hymns,

the breaths that drew in heavy
have not their lines of white,
the eyes that closed so sweetly
bleed and yellow through the night

the heart that cherished magic
seems to shrink beneath the bone,
the soul that once reached out to you
is dying here alone

Ideation

Pushing myself further
against the black precipice of death
is the only thing that still makes this weary heart beat faster
in the soul-shattering absence of your love

Damned

A sea of ruddy ichor,
Rust-colored and putrid,
Brushes over ankle-deep,
Melting the flesh, fusing toes,

A cloud of acrid miasma,
Greasy black and gunpowder gray,
Impales the sinner's lips,
Smashing through teeth, ripping roots,

A plague of pus and boils,
Eschar clinging to unhealing wounds,
Speads across my heart,
Rotting through chambers, seeking death

Kai

If I could explain the pain and the bliss,
Of spitting ash from my mouth from your nitrogen kiss,
Of the aches in my bones when we've just parted ways,
Of the swaying of trees that could entrance me for days,

If I could give you a taste of the splinters,
That pierce my heart and my eye in the darkest of winters,
That whisper thoughts of the dead in the earth with the roses,
That show the strings leading men and the danger each poses,

If I could drown you in the depths of this mire,
This palace of heartache and brimstone and fire,
This begotten island so lonely and pale,
These colors seen only by beings so frail

If I could sincerely ask you to die,
To take both our lives to return to the sky,
To return to the dewdrops, return to the frost,
To become something with meaning in something so lost.

The terms and conditions contract of a Dancer's fickle love

I would drink any liquid that could drown out the voices,
I would shoot up these veins just to live with my choices,
I would smoke any base that could make a bass louder,
I would snort up oblivion if it came in a powder.
I would search for the dose that felt just like your kissing,
But I blew past that point and still hurt from what's missing.

Irregular heartbeat for over an hour

I would never begrudge that you don't know this feeling,
when I cannot express it without barriers peeling,

I would never expect you to size up this burden,
To stop with your walls and get a last honest word in,

But maybe I wouldn't have pushed till I'm dying,
If sooner I'd seen any chance of you trying.

Wedding Planner

I used to reach for the strength of your hand,
Thought myself saved by a king with his fearsome command,
Saw those green eyes reflect just a touch of blue roses,
Misunderstanding the vision of blue-cheeked overdoses,
A perpesctive askewed by Piscean confusion,
We've been drowning each other in deepest delusion.

Union Pacific

Ribbed in iron,
clad in silver,
crowned in gold-
the false bind of ties for them all to behold,
the success, ornamental, like rust spreading on tin,
while mercury oxide fills the chambers within,
while it bubbles and leaches to brain and to bone,
how else could I handle that I'm always alone?
The despair in this wormed-heart of impending disaster,
Is placated each time that my mind's damaged faster,
At the thrill of the notion that this pain may be ending,
I can't hide from my sins and I can't keep pretending.

Ideation

Pushing myself further
against the black precipice of death
is the only thing that still makes this weary heart beat faster
in the soul-shattering absence of your love

Time

I don't see why or how you'd judge the choices that I've made,
when you aren't sinking into shores of tears and debts unpaid,
It's not your place to tell me that I've still got work to do,
When the angels of my family have come down to see this through,
How long can you ignore that somber longing in my eyes?
To melt to dew and dreams and dust and fade into the skies?
I completed all the labors that the gods had sketched in fate,
I reached for love when I was done but reached out far too late,
I don't see how or why you'd judge the choices that I've made,
Just as I can't judge the proper dose that ensures this heart stays frayed

Arachnophobia

I was never fond of spiders,
Long before I was tangled in a web of lies,
Broken down by dusk and woven up by moonlight,
Before I saw the competitive cannibalism of his friendships,
A solitary creature feasting on peers,
Before I was sized up against other prey,
Before I was saved for some later source of sustenance,
I was careful in attics and forests,
Before the venomous chelicerae grasped my neck,
Before I recoiled in fear at legs that couldn't move and a mouth that couldn't scream,
Before I watched the pieces of this body rot and spoil and burst open with maggots

The Depth

Accustomed to innate control of man,
I never knew insecurity,
until the violent fervor of my love,
jarred and recoiled off your nonplussed stare

A long five days between March 3rd and 8th

You've poisoned my hedonistic lust for sleep,
With ever-building anxiety and dread,
Thoughts of transient love I couldn't keep,
The thought of dying in this empty bed,

The years that took away my sense of wonder,
And ravaged my good looks with tired lines,
The electromagnetic rush of roaring thunder,
Loving blindly despite the warning signs,

I mistook you for a cusp against the fishes,
Hoping that inside you felt this strong,
That somewhere deep your world was made of wishes,
That time had nearly muted your sweet song,

I cannot blame your lack of understanding,
I merely wish you knew how all this felt,
The whispers of the cosmos all-comanding,
The advantage of the upper hand we're dealt,

The longing to submerge in something deeper,
This seawater love won't save a man from thirst,
You lack that empathy- you're still a heavy sleeper,
My delusions weren't for you to burst

Sick

Struggling, stumbling, searching,
searching to find the words,
words with a palpable meaning,
meaning adequate to describe this aching,
aching that compresses organs,
organs filled with acid and bile,
bile sharp and acrid from poor choices,
choices made to cope with the struggling,
struggling, stumbling, searching

Midnight Sun

The ashen sunrise from Autumnal dawn,
Arouses me to how much pain has spread,
The revelation of you being gone,
And silent wish that I was with the dead.

Desperate to quell the knife from twisting,
Agony in life that's spent alone,
Carry on this shell of life persisting,
Abusing every upturned rock and stone,

The flesh is seared and branded with your handprints,
A life you coveted and later cast aside,
Will this heart hurt less with further mends and treatments?
Or is it time to crash into the tide?

Necro-Neuro

The deliberate wash of anhedonia,
shudders in rushes between incredible pains,
of healthy vasculature shirking back under a battery acid blanket,
an arthritic swelling swirls in joints rotted with sparked synovial,
gnashing and grinding these graveyard gums,
words from witches heard in whispers- I feel them watching,
the wry wriggling of a wired-up water sign,
awaiting the anticipated accomplishment of atrial abnormalities,
A kiss even sweeter than yours'

Gears

Clockwork Soldier,
Standing tall and forged of lead and tin,
Growing older,
Paintjob running down as rust sets in,
Caring Master,
Every time he works he takes a part,
Stripping values,
To keep the pieces ticking in your heart,
Cosmic Dreamer
Clinging to paint chips, exhaust fumes, and lead,
Stauching heartache,
If I can't have you- there's this instead.

Closer

When you lean into my chest,
I smell the singeing rope around your neck,
When blue eyes hope for the best,
I see two bodies torn up from the wreck,
While you coast out toward the edge,
I hear her in the background in a rage,
When you fulfill your darkened pledge,
I taste the monster writhing in the cage

Hindrance of the Eclipse

The adder flicks its tongue,
Aiming at the fish's crown,
But expels with winded lung,
"You were better dead and down"

The crab defends with claws,
Airing out some undue strife,
"You were better when your cause,
was seeking out your end of life."

The howling winds stir up,
Strange emotions on the tide,
I cherished more your poisoned cup,
Coasting towards your suicide.

Gerda

There are Angels in Heaven and Angels in Hell,
Each with his wicked story to tell,
For the ancients are weighted with sins from long-living,
And the pain everlasting from giving and giving,

But the most devastating are the Angels on Earth,
Captive and carnal and doomed to feel mirth,
To live out their lives in woe loving others,
As a bystander shrouded by chains and by covers,

And blessed are those who are sought by these creatures,
With rings in their eyes and unusual features,
Who are given a chance to become something greater,
Blessed the harpy, blessed the satyr

The Angels on Earth who were doomed from the start,
To persish and wither from their delicate heart,
That shirks back in fear and feelings dejected,
With grievious misgivings never corrected.

Titan

I was made of smoke and ice before I chose this flesh,
I sought out men weak and nice and dug in wounds still fresh,
I brought down the moon and stars while still in virgin state,
I made love in speeding cars- searched sweaty palms for fate.

I bit down on leather straps because I won't submit,
I railed lines in squalid traps with
plans to never quit,
I drew blood with sharpened nails and dripped it down my chin,
I chewed things up but spit them out to keep this body thin.

I made the choice to leave behind
the world where I was God,
I met someone who stopped my heart
with a simple laugh and nod,
I gave my life so selflessly and
looked to them for the same,
I fell so deep in passion,
that I think I've lost the game.

Circe

Grinding down shards,
each with the capability,
to pay the debts of Hypnos,
arouse Aphrodite,
provoke Ares,
betray Selene,
and prompt Hades,
to draw forth sweet Charon

Unseemly Unseelie

I met a fallen angel with eyes of headstone gray,
with flecks of stormy blue that shows when eastern winds will bray,
she took upon her mantle a duty to save her mother's life,
a starcrossed fault,
underestimated gestalt,
the kind of girl who saves your soul but burdens with the strife

I watched this captive creature and her powers to create,
eagerly I felt her love, and fed upon her hate,
well-versed in the ancient way to enamor all her foes,
those hunger pangs,
and wicked fangs,
an empathetic journey of such volatile throes

I dreamt that all the fairies and all the hidden folk with wings,
were summonded to her court along with dark and eldritch things,
with circles of obsidian, of moonstone, and of quartz,
a sugar smile,
hidden all the while,
as she sinks a deadly knife into the enemy she thwarts

Boogeyman

Childlike fears
coming to manifest
as the real horrors
of ghosts from the past
lurking under the bed
skeletons in the closet
and monsters in the mirror

The Yearning of the Fishes

Muscles twinge,
fingers drumming across the nightstand,
unsure whether to clutch my chest or throat to-
staunch the ache of inability,
to share this human experience,
before there's nothing human left.

LC

Beware those Bad Boys Born in March,
Leave out those Ladies too,
the suicidal dreamers,
the eyes of brilliant hue,
the lust for drugs and money,
the frostbite fire touch,
the whispers of the forest,
the minds that know too much,
the mass manipulators,
the charming scented skin,
the horrors of their nightmares,
the monsters held within.
Beware those Bad Boys Born in March,
Leave out those Ladies too,
the wrath of fallen angels,
that make the old feel new

Pisces

Water sign,
with your fickle way,
the stars align,
as you examine your prey.

Wayward fishes,
with your deeper knowing,
the whispered wishes,
of a lust ever-growing,

Wicked sinners,
with your eyes set on magic,
the foolish beginners,
ready to start something tragic.

Hypnos

Shadows stretching southward, the Obelisk stands,
Head bent down averting sullen gaze,
As time wreaks havoc on the shifting sands,

Pearls and rubies pouring from his hands,
Spilling in a cream and crimson haze,
Shadows stretching southward, the Obelisk stands,

His serf stands waiting for his next  commands,
Vexed with love that only builds with days,
As time wreaks havoc on the shifting sands,

Tethered by arrythmic pulsing bands,
A hindrance for him from his heathen ways,
Shadows stretching southward, the Obelisk stands,

Wisdom imparted from traversing distant lands,
But lost and buried in these local bays,
As time wreaks havoc on the shifting sands,

The gossamer remnants of once-golden strands,
Are what this fallen demon man portrays,
Shadows stretching southward, the Obelisk stands,
As time wreaks havoc on the shifting sands.

Restless

Restless, tangled in a sheet,
refuge sought from summer heat,
bleary-eyed from lack of sleep,
and thoughts of one I couldn't keep

I fluff my pillow, rest my head,
on this expansive sea of lonely bed,
wishing you were in your space,
that sacred ground I can't replace

Black AuRA

I can make you feel the icy silence of the snow,
but rest assured a lonely night is why you want it though.

I can brush onto your skin the master painter's glow,
but once again I promise you don't really want to know.

I can taint your blood with sin as black as it'll go,
but oh my dear it's rather clear you want an ebb and flow.

I can tell a secret spell that takes away the woe,
but come the sun and when we're done I'll stunt your chance to grow.

I can trance you into dance and make you pitch and throw,
but limbs will brawl and down you'll fall when we go toe-to-toe.

With my stares I'll raise some hairs with wisdom like the crow,
but race your heart and then restart when the beats begin to slow.

With a running start I'll break your heart into pieces you can't sew,
but toll the bell to rip soul from shell and seal you down below.

Pariah

Wandering the sultry path,
Not even a year,
With thoughts as muddled
as the bleary horizon line,

How curious it is to encounter,
The King of the land I left,
Himself, a pariah.

Debridement

I gingerly slice,
into the necrotic tissue,
frostbitten by your touch,
pulling apart the eschar,
the burned bits,
ruddy with congealed blood,
down to the vasculature,
to the place that still hurts and feels pain.

Because healing goes from the inside out,
And numbness conceals a festering wound.

Freeze

You try to thaw the ice,
It's what gentlemen do,
Inadvertently perhaps,
But nonetheless true.

What you don't  understand,
Is that I've cryo-cauterized the wounds,
And with that layer gone,
I bleed right through.

Lost One

Heaven won't claim my Opium Angel,
He's a man who lost his soul,
The darkness festers in his sadness,
And he plunges in the hole,

Heaven won't claim my Opium Angel,
Though he's knocked out on the floor,
Cosmic workings covet his anguish,
He is doomed to suffer more,

Heaven won't claim my Opium Angel,
He stands waiting- gaunt and slim,
Defeat engulfs his awkward posture,
As he courses whim to whim,

I beg the stars and the Lord, Our Father,
To rid him of his sin,
To bring back the man with eyes of wonder,
Or take him home again.

Tar

Stuck,
on my fingertips,
like sap from pine,
just sweet enough,
to hesitate removal.

Predatory,
but no tropical spine or flare,
to alert a young man,
of the carcinogen-
a lingering thought.

Organs

If I poured all my blood,
into a crystal decanter,
it would still contain,
the millions of splinters,
that tear my veins like glass.

No pill nor spirit,
no metaphysical dialysis,
could remove them.

No priest nor exorcism,
could expel the poison.

Sweat

I taste you,
the bitterness-
from your flesh or your disposition,
lingers on my tongue,
unable to dissolve,
Insoluble.

It ruins the new fruit,
a Midas-like curse,
your presence.

My only solace is that I know you taste it too.

Ripped

The skin I stitched back on was crude,
A flimsy gauze pressed deep in the wound,
Where sugar-sweetness drew in the worms to chew,

My heart, pan-seared in cast iron,
Brown butter and the fat rendered through,
A familiar smell, but noticed by few,

Awakened with nails in the flesh of my throat,
Begging me to catch a breath or two,
With watery eyes I try to,

The strongest trees must sow deep roots,
The axeman comes forth sharp and true,
To undo, undo, undo,

The mask is cracked in the vermeil way,
It shows in the faintest glimmer or hue,
Seething blood and hatred of you,

A swan song would imply there was a man left,
But the savior knows that's gone too.

Bistro Woman

She sits tables down from me at the bistro, this woman.

Her harsh features jut out first. Stark black hair, pin-straight, with angular bangs drawing you to her face. Her eyes are cold blue, the piercing color of morning fog that presses against the windows before the sun has reached the horizon. Her eyelids are heavy and sunken, the kind that belong to dreamers or drug addicts. Her neckline is a strong beautiful curve that ensnares the eyes and forces them down to her slender shoulders.

Her softer features come next. A nose that broadens slightly and shale pink lips spread thinly in a smirk- her typical expression. Her dress and boots are black, fashionable but unremarkable. She's subconsciously chosen them to not divert attention from her face. A slender silver chain adorns her neck and dips down into her dress.

I imagine she works a job by day. A shopkeep in a bookshop or a florist perhaps. She lives above the shop in a dusty attic where she works on her true calling- art.

I can't say much concerning the man she is sitting with, her paramour, save for the fact that he is enraptured by her presence.

She has a simple name undoubtedly but it is irrelevant. In conversations she is often referred to as "her".

He insists they go to his place this time, but sure enough she persuades him to her raftered loft. It's a place where one never feels completely safe, perhaps she's chosen it for this reason. The odd smell of paint chipped off the walls and baked by the sun lingers in the air of the place.

A bare mattress on the floor is where they sleep and have sex. If he ever stated that they made love she would've shut him down with a shrill laugh. Sex was carnal for her, love was a spiritual feeling reserved for her and far beyond the reaches of human flesh.

Her urge to draw would come without warning, many nights he would wake to find she had moved to her easel, positioning it in the moonlight.

If whatever chaotic muse possessed her thoroughly, her art could be a days-long affair. A few crusts of bread would be the only evidence she had moved from her position at all.

Her appearance in this trance is simultaneously erotic and laughable. She wears only a flimsy pair of silk pants, nealy threadbare themselves. Her breasts are marred with charcoal dust, smudged in steaks. The corner of her mouth is mottled with ink from biting down on her markers; an unfortunate anxious tick she has developed. Her hair is a wild mess, having been pulled back when she needed focus and becoming stiff from cigarette smoke. He wouldn't dare touch her in this state of lunacy.

Her naked appearance does manage to make her more human, but never once more vulnerable. Several small stretch marks on her abdomen contrast her ghostly complexion. They validate that she's even real. There's something about her arched back that suggests malnourishment. She most assuredly was sent to bed many nights without supper; something easier for her mother to do than to admit she could not afford to feed her.

He excuses himself from the table and she grins when he is out of sight. It's the first time she's exposed her teeth. It becomes clear she takes delight in how captivated he is by her, she feels she has won some sort of game that only she is playing. Her aloof demeanor resumes when he returns.

Being both aware of her looks and the phallic nature of a cigarette lends to the attention-drawing way that she smokes.

I glance at my watch at last to find several hours have passed gazing at the woman in the bistro. I have been at her table, walked up to her attic, reached up to her frame while laying on the mattress, and seen her taken over by a creative spirit. As I fumble to put on my coat and leave, she gives me a slight smile as if to suggest that she is aware of my musings, and that they are all true.

Crystals

Everyone blamed you,
you were the termite, who,
split the ornamental burl in two,
all while ignoring that you,
ate through,
the foundation too,
no one noticed my pallor or hue,
or the blood running down to my shoe,
they gave a scoff as they bid you adieu,

If you've done this to me you've done this to a few.

Gorgon Woman

Besmirched the temple of proud Athena,
She whimpers at the ichor on her thighs,
Trauma echoes in her broken posture,
Men shall turn to stone before her eyes.

Leatherbound

I feel your presence etched across my skin,
Your venom sears a wound that always bleeds,
The price I would pay for that mad man's grin,

Reflecting on our past that's filled with sin,
Using others to meet our selfish needs,
I feel your presence etched across my skin,

Engulfed in pleasure snorted from a tin,
Sated like the way a lone wolf feeds,
The price I would pay for that mad man's grin,

I'm happy till you add that backwards spin,
That likely stems from guilt about your deeds,
I feel your presence etched across my skin,

No understanding of the thoughts that race within,
Your youth comes out in your sorrys, your outbursts, your pleads,
The price I would pay for that mad man's grin,

I hear and see your patience growing thin,
The ripple in the pond, the rustle of reeds,
I feel your presence etched across my skin,
The price I would pay for that mad man's grin.

Silent Killers

Illness,

Rushing through to strangle,

Swift,

The sounds of a withered muscle,

Feverish,

Struggling to catch a breath or make a sound,

Darkness,

Trickles forth steadily to usher in a visitor,

Death,

With not a soul around.