Mood Stabilizers in place of the Mood of a Stable

One pill, a day, doesn't quell voices-

and two pills doesn't help me make choices;

Though it does make it clearer which of the whispers are real.

Three pills, I found, were rather effective-

At both clearing the head and instilling some directive;

I just wasn't able to give up the power to feel. 

Another pill, the tapes, the therapy- 

Meant to manage the anxiety;

Every time that work beckons or I glance at a call.

Then the stupid, and useless, breathing techniques- 

For the insurmountable tension that peaks;

That freezes me right in my tracks in an unwanted stall.

And yet, worst is, the pain-

That manifests in my shoulders but is all from my brain;

I've yet to find a pill, a patch, or poison that could even make a dent. 

Going in, to dismay, and always so late-

cursing myself for making them wait;

Rushing in to disappoint them all again tonight,

Ignoring, snoozing, silencing pleas-

That emanate from my core filling me with unease;

Reminding me that till I change my path I will never feel alright. 

Driving away, wishing, of a life instead- 

Where I'm up with the dawn and climbing out of my bed;

Waking up from the dreams where I dared to make a start. 

Growing, taking, the crops in the field-

Restoring arable land and its power to yield;

My heart and soul poured in the earth, sowing to ready the fields, sewing the tears in my heart.

Trading Sleep to See You

I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
Thinking over the experiences and what I should convey,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,

I muse each day on what to tell you I've seen coming in your chart,
Or the injuries and spiders that cause me to howl and bray,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,

Weekly caught up into something new; some philosophy or work of art,
And for the swiftest of ephemeral moments--it seems that all will be okay,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,

It's not from trying not to tell you; one can't miss the mark without the dart,
I just like to freeze up when I see you--and I love to hear about your day,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,

New and fresh experiences that I thrive on, new takes on bitter-acrid-pungent-tart,
A black and white scenario where my perspective brings up gray,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,

I must seem pathetic for only showing week-to-week my broken heart,
With a laughable libido I try to keep from making me a lousy lay,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart

Congested sinuses hiding the rot,
The body breaks down in a place he forgot,
Aerogel,
A wicked smell,
That erodes a living, breathing man- who consumes by drips this draught,

Admittedly ashamed that things won't seem to turn around,
Looking backward at the past when love and promise were abound,
Oblivion,
Would be a sin,
So the memories linger like a faded abstract whose full text will never be found,

Dreaming of a day without this shoulder ache,
That drives me toward a spinal break,
The cruel distractor,
My work's detractor,
Compensating for this strong dissociation where I sleep when I'm awake

I already know I'm no longer the ten,
One at the top of his game, one of those coveted men,

Men who the world bends over backwards to please,
Trapped in my slightest smile or in a harmless tease,

If you're out to pull me from rose-colored visions,
To remind me of reality's distraught conditions,

Just remember that I've known this truth through the ages,
And it isn't your place to remind the captive of cages,

Don't scrape the plaster or paper of the layers of paint,
They cover the burns of a martyr and saint,

The stigmata bleeding is to evoke a remembrance,
That you won't ever worship me in the smallest of semblance,

And if within my eyes you cannot find your God,
I could always cut them out; replace them with a better-suited mod

In Remembrance of Who He Was

I get asked what I've been doing to correct this situation,
As if I've been idle and coasted through some respite or vacation,
As if I haven't had to live through stopping short of every expectation,

Nothing in life prepared me for the chance I'd lose my mind,
There was illness in my family but nothing of this kind,

Had I known I'd have planned things out in dreadful anticipation.

Science has shown that memories are encoded while we sleep,
That short-term turns to long-term for the things we need to keep,
And what's left is then discarded- ceased from being left to steep,

But for me there's some malfunction and though I sleep and often dream,
The memories stay suspended- colloidal like butterfat in cream,

And I'm left searching for contextual clues amongst the spoiled heap.

Have you ever needed post-it notes to remind you who you are?
Then compared them with how you used to be- that potential rising star?
Trying to perform the skills you've learned feels like pulling them from tar?

I get up each morning to another thing I can no longer seem to do,
Crippled, crawling on the earth with only memories of when I flew,

Self-doubt instills in you this deep belief that you should have never come this far.

If you think that's the worst part you haven't thought through this disease,
A funny thing begins to happen when your memories are no-longer trusted keys,
Insidious it starts to change from that pressure and unease,

It starts to feel like everything and everyone are just a dream,
Too nerve-damaged to pinch yourself; you seek to find and tear the seam,

Try to guess if what you heard was real or did acute sense hide hallucinatory tease?

Grieving while I'm still aware of missing parts of what was once a gestalt whole,
Mourning bleak disconnection from the ancient spirit in my soul,
In vain attempting to collect the contents spilling from this broken bowl,

And I'm admittedly guilty of collecting friends who also longed to die,
Gorged on range of their emotions when I was only capable of aloof detachment and a pseubulbar cry,

Collecting their experiences- what an ostentatious goal!

If I caused this all to happen, yes, then I admit regretting what I've done,
I'd admit the price does not measure up for those scattered bits of fun,
And I blame myself more than the excuse of natal positions of the planets around the sun,

Blame myself before I blame abuse by a father who himself had never seemed to heal,
Blame myself before the lover who broke my heart so deep I'd learn the hard way just how low mankind can feel,

Believing mistakes were all part of my destiny, spinning stories to justify the act of being spun.

Someday it will not matter because I'll lose awareness of this addled brain,
Whatever part of me that lingers here will be ignorant of no-longer being sane,
Perhaps that gesture shows the Holy Ghost is at least somewhat humane?

If any of you know me when that happens; consider this informed consent,
End this weary incarnation and hasten the time in sorrow spent,

Return me to the stuff of stars, release me from the pain.

Forever a team player- I will work to help the team,
With fervor I will give all myself if it will manifest the dream,
Not seeking to build up the way for someone who won't take part,
Bitch beware of adding pressure lest your skin be burned with steam,

I am well aware I need to balance my head and soul and heart,
So I'm out here doing groundwork that you never seem to start,
And for someone with no initative to propose to me a plan,
You better get off of that god damn high horse and help to haul this fucking cart

We all know there's no "I" in team or you'd give it all you can,
The way you give your cheap-ass bangs a shot to frame that square jaw of a man,
We can work this out together or you can get out of my space,
Where there's smoke there will be fire don't be the dumb whore with a pan

I'm prepared to help with anything you think that could hasten up the pace, 
But if you seek to just give orders you better get out of my fucking face,
I will bury you in red tape till no one can hear you scream,
If my first impression didn't work, let's try the one you can't erase.

Damntrak

Asking too much given the little I bring to the table,
Advantage taken from your powerful presence held to try and feel somewhat stable,
Used the usual charms,
To remain in your arms,
Unrelenting unease for unfairly selecting your soul to be the savior in this fable,

Sure to drive you o'er the edge with my hopeless consternation,
Pathetic woe for sorry souls and the lack of our salvation,
Drank the warmth out of your smile,
Removing mysteries behind my style,
Till the only time I'm good for is killing time left at the station,

Hope you realize I may not grow to be more together or methodic,
Though it's not as if I expect of you to be more erratic or quixotic,
My fear is that I will not quell,
All your urges 'fore the dirge's knell,
Though at least we know using this shell is something you find erotic.

The beautiful butterfly born from you broke my bitter boyish heart

I cringed at the crimson chrysalis you created by crying each crystal clandestine tear

The ones that seared my sinner's skin like iron spokes that set the sigils on the steer

Awake, agape, awash with anguish at the agonizing thought that we soon would be apart

Your future form, fervent and fearsome, is also fickle and flighty too,

I wish I could crawl with that crazed creative caterpillar that could consume carafes of caffeine

Her idiosyncratic impulses invigorated the insecurity of eyes insane and blue

I wonder does she still wish from willing wanderlust- the way she did as a wayward teen?

Lactic Acid Improving Taste but Rotting My Muscles

To avoid the inconvenience lock me in that heart-shaped box,
Give it time to mellow out the flavor of the acid in the must,
It's far too caustic now to deal with,
Allow it to settle in the dark and the dust,

I won't be pushed out until I'm more complacent
Age is bound to spoil me- I'm not some brine or pickle,
And for the countless jabs thrown at my nature,
I'm not nearly as immature and fickle,

Drop the call if that's what you need,
But I'd caution that cycle you've deemed antiquated,
It's encased in these moments where you're feeling unheard,
Would I have gained that much more insight in that one second waited?

Solomon

When armageddon finally calls and returns this world to dawn,
When these carnal forms are ripped down to electrons from the bombs,
When there isn't quite an "us" to sense- those sentiments are gone,
We'll be, at once, at peace again etched in scriptures and in psalms

I can hardly finish anything when I feel so crudely finished

Brushes my arms-
he searches my neck for the kill switch
Strikes my head inside an iron bell-
to snuff me out quite like a candle
Shrouds me like he drapes an aviary-
like how peasants bind a witch
Pauses to look me in the eye-
sits me high upon a shelf until I'm something he can handle

The dust wears me down-
Settles in hair each time a lover puts me here to sit in stasis
In terror I sit-
as the spiders crawl out and their webs anchor me to this place
My resolve keeps me content-
The thought of being together means I'll grit and bear and face this
As time takes all that is left-
As it wears down my features and leaves lines on my face

Ambrosia

Blood
Is a primordial fluid
Incarnate forms and their rudimentary systems
Carrying hemocyanin and hæmolymph
To the tissues of cells not yet ready to receive
The ambrosia
The memory of time
Tasting of iron
This human blood
Even if poisoned
Or dialyzed
Or addled with drugs

It is the only thing in this form I have known longer than the quarter century I have spent here

Long before everything,
before the warmth of an anxious womb
a waning moon cast forth
On the storm of the century
Of which I was a harbinger
This red liquid filled with memories of cells set to kill
Is the very same fluid that God-fearing men once referred to as Ichor

Imagine if the deserts of the world existed,
To only those who believed in the concept of sand,
Now imagine the power that could come from your conscious,
Reality would submit to your will and command,

It's a crazy sort of magic designed to take the pain from the folly of Man,
Imagine if one could manifest the fixed beliefs that form delusion?
And use those powers to paint the facts in gorgeous shades of roses,
Marked as wicked and deceitful for crafting beautiful illusion

And I'll I search for in the journey is my Virgil- a hell's companion,
Someone to save me from the rampant throes of isolation,
As I make peace with this carnal form and my utter disappointment,
Because they cannot understand the will of God and the spark of their creation

Peroxide Poltergeist

That part of you that feels quite sick
When you're lonely and awake, and the world has gone to sleep
Is the part of you that still feels shame
For living the lifestyle of the sheep

Who can blame you for that form
The one you appropriately chose based on the scratches on your heart
That cry out for Endymion
The shepherd that saw your Titan form without a name, a clue, a chart

Admittedly I still take pride in seeing who you are
Because even you have separated from the skin that tastes of stars and chance
I wish you'd long just a little harder
Maybe then you'd see the aching girl still craves that midnight moonlight dance

Virgil

If you really want to know a man
If you want to know him well
You have to hold onto his hand
And ferry him through hell.

Not even a metaphor

There are webs and swaths of spiders living in my precious things,
From furniture to photo albums; they don't discriminate,
The irony of this cosmic joke is the kind of pain it brings,

A fuzzy one upon a lamp may be large amongst the kings,
But he is a mere marble against the female's fearsome weight,
There are webs and swaths of spiders living in my precious things,

They evoke a sensory response- I swat my arms until it stings,
I would not in a million years have ever guessed this was my fate,
The irony of this cosmic joke is the kind of pain it brings,

Writhing on the undersides and skittering over strings,
And worst off are the things in boxes, they've infested every crate,
There are webs and swaths of spiders living in my precious things,

I found them in the jewelry box when I found my missing rings,
Their egg sacks cling to everything as they feed and and grow and mate,
The irony of this cosmic joke is the kind of pain it brings,

I cringe as they scurry toward my hands, as each one jumps and flings,
Their infestation evidence that my sentimental heart's the bait,
There are webs and swaths of spiders living in my precious things,
The irony of this cosmic joke is the kind of pain it brings

I had an awful lot of trouble explaining just what I felt in my shoulder and my spine,
This is easily the worst it's ever hurt and I'm trying not to consign,
Choking back tears till they feel like bees that sting a tongue chelating in brine,
I'm fighting back this fucking urge to rip my teeth out till the roots drip like crimson vine,
Can you see why then, when it reached my neck, why I was rendered speechless? Without a line?

Pink Cloud

The second, third, or fourth time that I hit the old pink cloud,
I stopped myself from feeling dread and simply laughed aloud,
Knowing full well I should be ashamed; I couldn't help but to feel proud,
And I may not have boasted to everyone but I sure did amongst that crowd,

Because there comes a point, a place in time, where I'm just glad to have survived,
To have caused as little damage and maybe in some ways thrived,
I'm not some hopeless, hapless sap needing constantly revived,
I watched my head in shallow waters every time I dived,

I won't defend a way of living that I wouldn't recommend,
I can't begin to tell you of the things in life it brings screeching to an end,
It costs a pretty penny too, one you probably shouldn't spend,
And eventually taking all that risk demands that something to either hell or heaven send

I'm only gonna say this once- so it get it through your head,
There's not a thing I wouldn't do to block the voices of the dead,
Not a spell or sin I would omit to charm you back to bed,
Because every second without distraction is one I'm overwhelmed with dread

But the stressors are what drives me to speak and act this way,
I use their presence just to justify what's done to get me through the day,
And to show I might have purpose still- despite the fact I'm gay,
Despite the innumerable messages that tell me not to stay,

There's still substantial bits of me that believe this all can stop,
That since I wasn't always like this I might still halt this drop,
If I'm lucky I'd feel just a bit of my old yearning for the top,
Become the man they all want me to be- initiate some cosmic swap,

But fighting hard against these bits are the bits who want to drown,
Who yearn to ache and bleed all over every memory of this town,
The part of me who justifies anything to not feel down,
A withered crooked clandestine creature with a ring of smoke his crown,

To me the part I struggle with is I can't seem to confront,
The people close who look at me and see only what they want,
Their facetious feign of ignorance like poachers claiming not to hunt,
Saying nothing, merely praying I won't pull another stunt

Mutable Signs

There comes these points in space and time where something has to happen,
When God calls on the ones like me to make the bonds unfasten,

The solvent to dissolve the glue- to undo the firm adhesion,
While mankind screams in agony as we expose each wound and lesion,

Without this form of torture you would never get to grow,
You'd never get to germinate the seeds you seek to sow,
To cultivate the garden that can tell you what you want to know,
First you have to thaw the frost- you have to melt away the snow,

No decision that was difficult was ever made in comfort's space,
You have to make them burn or bleed and long for some other place,
A sharp and crooked knife threatens to scar  their pretty face,
Evoking fondness of the time before the moths came in and chewed away the lace,

Don't think I'm saying there's not value in the fixed and cardinal ways,
They establish the order needed to carry out the passing days,

Oh, misunderstood and mutable, accused of chaos bringing doom,
Will any of you realize Cosmos is who builds your resting tomb?

Fair Weather

When you live in a world with such few limitations,
Hearing any excuse is a waste of your patience,

It leads you to wonder how much time that they've wasted,
Looking for some common ground to feel their deeds reciprocated,

But I've never found trouble with any endeavor,
My friendship never turned fickle for inclement weather,

Through perilous journeys I've always commuted,
For business or pleasure- neither duty refuted,

That small car has made it on journeys over an hour,
I guess a sense of work ethic equates to some hidden power

Perhaps that difference is why I get paid in six numbers,
In the time that excuses leaves them aging in slumbers

The Weekend

Anxious
Lonely
Swimming through this dismay
Tired
Aching
I'd settle for just knowing a bit about your day
Wishing
Somber
I hope I haven't worked some silent nerve
Wayward
Bleeding
Have you come to see I'm less than you deserve?

Visitation

Hunter
at a loss
when I saw you
this new form of yours'
you knew to distract me
to keep me from questioning
and what an extraordinary gift it was!
to bask in your presence
just spending time
with my friend
thank you
Hunter

I was here before here was here- before they instilled so much regime,
A time when Angels bedded women,
Before Deluge made silent every scream,
And I carry with me all the pain,
Of the ground that houses all the dead,
I carry on despite this fact, despite knowing it's in vain,
I try to make this world the place of beauty in my head,
The world around me mocks my foolishness,
While I pretend that I don't care,
Even if all the world was hopeless,
I'd still remind them God is there
My name embodies philosophy, Who is Like God?, Mîkhā'ēl
Who knows existence as this greatness but stays trapped in carnal shell?
And for this ardous task I seek out comfort in a mate,
Someone to hold some of the despair that I gather as my fate

Fat Salmon

Something rather remarkable- the way the candles frame his face,
They map the lines just right,
Embossed by night,
As I glower under neon signs I can't help but feeling out of place,

Something in his simple view of things that seems so profound yet not complex,
Leaving me each time to ponder
Heart growing ever-fonder,
A man willing to sustain my need for agony if I sustain his need for sex,

Something that one seldom sees on any person but a child,
His delighted smile,
Makes me pause awhile,
In his nature something Cherubim makes the Seraph in me wild,

Something about that genuine sweetness that makes you swear off saccharine,
His virtues never waver,
Not for theif nor traitor,
I think it's compassion, I see, remarkably, in the candle's dreamy din.

I knew the you inside of you
And what it symbolized in me
The pure, unbridled selfishness
The conquest to be free
And even when you screwed me over
And even after you had died
After there was nothing left between us
Bitter burning tears for you I cried
It took a therapist to call me out, for
Making your painful death a beautiful fate
To remind me that you aren't some symbol
A static Marley's ghost shrieking "stop this...wait!"
Hunter, I've simply got to stop this pattern
This chasing after you and blame
This punishment of mind and body
This deep delusion that was our game
It's time for me to try out living
But maybe not with all I've got
Maybe extremes seemed right when love had left us
Two broken kids the world forgot.

Jericho gave way at last, but it would only last so long,
The pleasure in an ephemeral moment of a life without duress,
A nullifying stupor; soporific warble in a song,
A place where I could still amount to something but not surmount the stress 

And moons and ghosts and visions tricked me- serving to validate my claim,
Stifling my manic fervor and teasing me with open doors,
Awakening stifled intuitive gifts to show me that their waste is such a shame,
Blowing wind in my sails for a perilous journey but stocking nary a scrap in my stores,

You made your mistake in revealing your motive,
For it's the same now as it was way back then,
To show that I've given all there is to give,
That my life is over in this life led by men,

But I'm willing to conjecture- evidenced by your persistence,
That you hadn't thought to factor in my love of carnal vice,
That maybe I might stay alive out of spite and stark resistance,
Awash in mortal treats of sex and jewels and dreams and cash and ice

Bucky

I needed the chance to see him tonight
I was counting on the chance encounter where we could finally talk this out
There's so much I need to say to him
I wasn't well-braced for this clout

I needed the chance to see him tonight
I figured his shade was already en route
That this force I've felt since the eclipse
Was a bite of the strangled fruit

I needed the chance to see him tonight
I spent the money and I lost out on sleep
There was a decision I was planning on making soon after,
It seems Endymion can't hold onto his sheep

I needed the chance to see him tonight
I don't want your secrets that coat me like slime
The medium must've been rather scared of you,
But someone somewhere will give us our time

Psychic

Saline and 8 balls make a sickening slurry
Madras and lime leaves make too-sweet a curry,
2 hours sleep makes makes me hustle and hurry
Pure anhedonia makes everything blurry

Deep Tissue

The stomach-turning cacophony of bone grinding on bone,
Reminding every mortal man that his time spent here will end,
And should he use this time unwisely it will end with him alone,

It's clear to me this constant pain is a sign of sins I must atone,
Despite the fact there there is nothing I wouldn't do or wouldn't lend,
The stomach-turning cacophony of bone grinding on bone,

I'm not sure how to comprehend the cease of quiet with a moan,
If we've got feeding and fucking covered- is there time for me to mend?
And should he use this time unwisely it will end with him alone,

Stipulated silence is not something I can condone,
To that effect I'd rather hear each tangential trend,
The stomach-turning cacophony of bone grinding on bone,

I reserve my right to act as youth- though the world made me a crone,
I choose to take face value in the messages you send,
And should he use this time unwisely it will end with him alone,

Perhaps this labile way of acting is something to bemoan,
But I can feel these cracking bones and someday they will not bend,
The stomach-turning cacophony of bone grinding on bone,
And should he use this time unwisely it will end with him alone,

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?