dreams of infinite sadness, i cough bleeding. three shot, perched amongst ruins, a tombstone slanted from the mud. i do this to relieve the pressure of your mouth. and she was scarred from head to toe. broken twigs lined the driveway and the spigot was afoul. i had heard of this, of winds tearing into houses and stealing wills. and she was talking from all places all at once. amok and cindered, christmas trees wrapped tightly into nuances. we can only keep nothing. and i breathe moss, i breathe mold.
Category Archives: words
crushed
Mysteries and puzzles. She says to me, you’ll never figure this out. And I dig my nails deep into her thigh, deep into her back, through gritted teeth I reply, you never wanted to be figured, you only wanted to be blindly adored.
unwrapping
And of course, christmas morning, the boy stumbles about and the girl rips through the gifts starving and half mad.
What beauty they still possess. How they shine while I grow old and dull. My god, they are mine and they outshine everything I’ve ever done.
x-mas eve
i steam through the night, angered and restless and bored with no where to vent, no safe place to let it go. i hunger and crack and feel uncontrollably spoiled and privileged. she comes to me in the night, children asleep, exhausted and lonely. i’ve missed you, she says.
i miss everyone.
she holds me
it can be difficult, you must, you must not turn away. you must turn to them, you must turn to the light.
you must learn, she says, to see how others see you. you must see the beauty others see in you.
and i try, i try, i spin and turn and fall and fail and scramble for purchase.
she holds me close. she holds me still. she holds me. she holds me.
snaggletooth
multitask multi-be, be everywhere, all the time, stretch across your lovely claws through time and space and the small of her back and the edge of her lip, snag a nail there, pull her mouth towards yours, just before piercing the skin, just before bleeding, let go and kiss her, kiss the wound before it heals.
hang time until it is over
hang time, the suspension of belief, that one crucial moment where we wait with baited breath and our lungs fill to capacity and it would be a marvel that we were still breathing if the nail wasn’t set to puncture us all.
hang time, the noose around her neck, while we wait for the trap door to drop and for her to kick at us and we toss stones against her forehead and her torso and her knees, scratched and bruised and scabbed with every lie.
hang time, where calloused fingers loosen their grip and i fall forever and ever into the mouth of this disappointment, having said it and done, over and over until raw, until my throat is hoarse from screaming your name.
hang time, all over again until it is over.
light / dark
When will there ever be peace in my heart?
When will I let go of despair, when will I find it unattractive?
You said once I was a pain junkie. I wonder if it’s a simple as that.
I am a dark soul. I think I’ve seen and done too much, and not enough of the right things.
Will you teach me how to embrace the light? Will you teach me not to be afraid of the dark?
ever real
it is difficult to let go of an addiction, particularly when it is sprung from self destruction, when the addiction is to self destruct, to self mutilate. a denial of happiness. i tell her in the dark, i need to tell you this, i need to tell you that you are real, the only ever real thing i have ever had.
in the dark, untouched
i scramble in the dark, i make myself up. every instance, another me, another entanglement, something else i cannot sustain. i scramble my brains over a cold skillet, nothing cooks. nothing even simmers. i grow stale. i am lost, i make myself up, ten fold, twenty fold. the need to disappear, overwhelming. to not be, to erase myself, to obliterate. not out of malice, not to destroy, to create anew. blank slate, dig up even the foundation. there is no foundation, only dirt. it’s all been built upon dirt, mud, shaky ground. i cannot sustain, i scramble.
i have never been reached, i have yet to be touched by another person. i have yet to be moved. i am always looking for a way out. i am always looking to not be.