when there are several months in seven days
hearts soaking into carpet, it will leave a stain
drowning in stars is not enough to keep this appetite contained
empty chest cavity to blame

stop the pain
cut its reign
maim me
hang me
save me

a tongue a knife a rhyme
a slitted try of silence mine
i could never keep it fought
rip the gut right from my life
ill scream the name until i rot
shreik a word so loud ill cry
i tried my luck but missed the cut

a trickled spiggot sputters with it
a soft spot for the eyes that fall out of my skull
flaming pupils burn the crop
the students of the fire
they stop drop and roll into the wretched thought
that comes each time they learn what has been wrought to build this pyre

to eviscerate the weakened soul
the empty rooms inside my home
voraciously in rapture
tearing sinews off my mind
splitting ears and feeding from the captured
nothing left behind my skin no map no muscles
missing compass knees buckled

******* leave me or ill pull the trigger
ill **** the lost and eat the hindered
incinerate your wicked splinters
and in this home
snap each of your twelve ******* fingers

its teeth are gentle on me in a way that only devils can
we're peckish for atrocities and it has given me a plan
a broken handed man within the corridor
his one eye wide
the other in the devils side
a matching type to mine if i still had my sight
the door is closed and i am blind but we can smell the horror more
breaking out we tore into that bodys core
but that devil, him, the house, unborn
as i woke up in a corpse
for i am dead upon the floor

i love you
and you love him
i know you are scared
because i am too
but is this love
not enough
to answer
your fear

i dont know how to make you feel this
i dont know what words in what order
but i want you to see if but a glimpse
what it is inside this skull
because there is such unending emotion
and such vast blankness of nothing
sometimes i will just be sitting on the couch
the most innocuous of places as i scroll through
nothing of any particular meaning or significance
and then it opens
the floor beneath my feet is gone and there is nothing below
there will never be anything below
i will never hit the ground i will never touch the walls
there is nothing but darkness but visceral hunger but black desire
i dont know how to tell you just how bad just how sickening just how all consuming it is to experience
there is nothing else in my world there never was and there never will be
and that is the only thought that can occur when falling
or perhaps im floating even flying
there is no frame of reference
only this black of unfathomable intensity it makes me endlessly sad, infinitely mad, and simultaneously forever unfeeling
it makes me want to scream and rip the skin from my bones
it makes me want to destroy my body and my soul
it makes me want to curl up and cry for days on end
it makes me want to light my house on fire
it makes me want to run away at night in the rain and get hit by semi truck or train
i dont know how to write it so that you can feel just how deeply rooted it is
i want you to know how it feels i want someone to know what i am experiencing but i also want it to be poetic
i want it to have rhythm and i want it to make you feel the worst youve ever felt
because thats what its like when it opens
and i cannot get out and i cannot think of anything else it consumes me
i need to make someone else understand
it makes me aggressive and destructive
i learn by example because it grabs my jaw and pries my eyes
it forces me to look
it forces me to feel
it has something, maybe a talon or a fang, and when it pierces it becomes me
it courses in my veins it surrounds me inside and out
there is absolutely no way to avoid it and now there is not even a way to dislike it
once it is inside it controls me and i cannot even say i dont enjoy it because it is enjoying this and it is me now we are one and it is in power
if i were to still exist i would dislike it
but there is only it
my body has become just an object in its possession
just a vessel for the feelings
feelings is such an understatement of a word for what it is
it makes me so angry that i cannot find a way to truly say it
but like i said
i dont know what words
and i dont know what order
to make you understand and know

my body and soul in a boxers ring
the ref has been shot, throttled, and kinged
compliant to no one, inside is a known run
yet all parties here are the foe
are the loser the liar and lo--
the body is violent.
the audience: god, and they sit there silent.
soul socked, blocked, and bruised, he shivers to quiet
and body, it staggers and quivers in triumph
but it shakes and it cries because its eyes are mine
for a fire inside
does not inspire
but burns and hollows to rinds

soul, he delivers a blind hit.
in stride and in mind, an inmate of wildness.
of trial-less, unending, childish depending, spiraling slightly askew

and of tiredness.

the soul, he kneels, and body, it keels
the ref has revived and is quick to the meal
she tears apart body and dips into soul

there's only one answer
as god keeps their hands still
no matter the way that it's told.

a hand of circular motion
will turn and turn without promotion
a notion of loyalty unbreaking a sure one
but also forgiving will never occur

boxed up bottles full of glass
a burn from plastic flames of past
a cast doesnt mean that broken pieces should last
for the renewal will never occur

fearsome dearsome and doleful
a spur of the moment decision thats hopeful
a bowl full of concepts berating an old soul
but also the meal will never occur

a hungry and mangled existence
a hurt that never heals, for instance
a distance doesnt make you a witness
for the pain has never occurred

love time heart life
shove rhyme smart right
tub dimes hard strife
some lime start smite

dead turn bed longer
fled learn read somber
head burn red stronger
said spurn dread ponder

room living darkness lies
grew dripping harness dies
through giving starkness tries
slough gripping tarnished minds

young eyes seeing crime lying thine creeping mine
rinds peeling feeling slime re a lizing healing shine
boy talk stalk walker struck sad bad potter dock

duck sought bought luck rock tongue tied from nights stuck
stuck in muck of crumpled ruckus truckers buck.

twenty three twenty three twenty three
sin the leaves spent the free when in tea
sent to seem bentley ream really keen
forty six forty six forty six
torture brick court see lick forced he rips
more the ships for lean mix bore me sticks

twenty and two twenty and six
forty and three, keep kept that this
poetry poetry poetry

blue rocks blue skies
blue water blue ties
unexpressable thoughts
unconveyable eyes
dry teeth from careful smiles
expired, denied, relying on time
blue hearts blue guilt yellow lies

put stat this what
bother upper it, huh?
battle wonder with but
mister think the
twisted figure shrink bud
from hit wink one
soccer stippled mink, yuh!

appointed anointed entitled insane
assaulted revolted compiled remains

jaunty raunchy defiled deranged
daunting exhausting exiled and caged

experiment serious fistful explain
mysterious furious pistol disdain

lodger copter laughter softer
walking wanting wading wearily watching
thumping trading
vapor water left unbothered
shot and pulled and dropped to fodder
pushing pouting prodding per i lously pinching poking
paper thought or kept to rot and sought to put the trough
but
type. speak. letters. words.
components honing rodents fuller shoulder bone boulder
broken beaten bottled breathing baker bleating basted by
faker fleeting fated fearing facing feeble fine
CHOKE
keeper of the cold and crafted cattle
come to coddle all the wretched blood
it would it was and has been done
the blooming of a bud

besito, besito
cuando no hay nada para mi nunca
y cada vez
yo sé, yo sé
pero por favor
déjame, déjame
déjame destrozar a mí mismo

me perdones -
hace uno año y aún...
lo siento
no puedo hacer esto
por siempre
pero por supuesto,
para ti, intentaré
eres todo
lo siento
lo siento
intentaré

lo siento
intentaré
déjame
por favor
te amo

this but and youre
theirs not is nor
some yet whether for
also, however.
though under in ontop
through was will wrought
be were could a lot
the while sure ought
stop! perchance.
anyway. so of been all
because since therefore i'll
hers thus had was
very we'll would wall!
once maybe yes now
never by about down
minus till despite,
within without alike - hype!
said did done it
went him forthwith
prithee thine then as
either neither ***** yeah!

despite popular belief
your hands do not bend the light of the sun
your lips do not pour truth and sugar
and there are scissors in your gaze

sitting next to your decisions
i let them hold my hands
and hold my mouth on your command
six pounds of fine print
six pounds of guile
you only love me when im silent

i am not stupid
i am not a fire prince
nor will i live to earn something that you refuse to give
however there are other factors, always,
like survival

kaleidoscope collage
your cuts are carefully connected
fingers of precision and denial
this was your causing and creation
and yet your language is laced with words as if you would be hurt by my exile

perhaps it will come that you understand love
but as it stands you believe it is hunger
to love is to know to demand and control
i pity your vision of family

a sliding scale of humanity
what gives you the idea it is a choice
what makes you think there is a weight difference in voice
like you have the right to someones needs
and reserving them for trials
performance should not be required
for simple decency

and yet here we stand
in front of the pyramids
like women perhaps
but no human for miles and miles

mindfulness on nature's needles
see the sky's brightness turned to max over hand prints
planned trips of impromptu gladness exceeds all
of every expectations, I breathe tall
I feel small, but content
the world's beauty just will never relent

it is my perception that ebbs and flows
my imperfections that make me glow
and my intentions that seem to go
in all directions connected expressions
I feel the calm of love and acception
within is lifted, the self-oppression
I'm blissed out this yoga session

a flavor lost in water
frustration dissolving into apathy
does it even matter any more.
a comedy of pain
would you like to see the discrepancy in timestamps
or is it enough to say im ready
and would you understand
when i tell you with joy
i no longer love you
or would that contradict these citrus-scented apple slices
touched only by two hands
and the burning of acidic salt beneath my eyes
as if i ever stood a chance

his hair is
his clothes are
his voice is
the scent just so
his hands are
his
he is.
his eyes are
they are happy
his eyes are happy
his eyes are his
imagine if they were yours
mine
i could become him
but would i
and if i could then will i
there are so many tears i hold they slip between my fingers
they could be his
would they be his
to become
to wish
and to imagine
is to feel
is it not
and with it pain.
falling sinking drowning
would his eyes be happy
will his eyes be happy
will his eyes be
will he
would it be for such
or is he never realized
indebted soul
to the theorized
im not sure if my hands are fuller
but either choice is incredible
to be offered
such a weight that is to water
it pins me to the floor
or to the wall it keeps me cornered
is this what it feels to be killed
or merely to have lived
and if latter
then perhaps
id like to know the former.

a sea of golden silver blue
waves of sand and fireworks
through fingers wind and water flew
roller coaster touch the border
the hems of shirts
splashed and blurred

debatable humanity
does he deserve to be known
should he be granted sunlight
and is existence your choice
or is it just because you decided

he should have to grovel for a crumb
have him on his knees
but hes not allowed to ask nor to speak
he must not make his breathing heard
but out of earshot out of thoughts
unburdened fingers in your pockets

which is worse

isnt that convenient

ive heard you turn and your lips say you love him
but hands murmur other words
or is it more a scream
from the lungs he has known
words mean nothing
(tell that to the ropes at his wrists)
but if you are not aware
that there is more to this
he will remain yet hopeless

☆
drinking air like flame
a moth inside a lantern
the passion in pain
☆
burning desire
the rapture of heat
self immolation
☆
acutely consumed
and terminally alive
chronic thoughts of love
☆

thirty minute play time
sixty hour scroll
fifteen times of homework
and seventy to toll

finger on a screen
lines of all thats in
shapes that have been seen
speaks of what has been

a notebook closed on table
hunched back over the board
bringing grapefruit abled
cracked knuckles to the core

touch and sense and good
twice upon the body
water held in stood
two thirds of the laundry

music in my follicles
art inside my pores
theres feeling in my eyelids
emotions in my joints
and most of every single thing there is
the thought of it conjoined

A LIFE OF LINES upon a page upon a chest would you believe it yet. WOULD YOU SEE a crime to vandalize or would it be a pleasure to your eyes. A WORK OF ART upon this skin but would it do the trick within. AN EMPTY BOOK full of boxes full of checks though the emptier it gets. A SKULL THATS SPLITTING full of gritting anger and emotion. COULD IT HEAL or might it just rot the soul increase ten fold fester and congeal. WOULD YOU FEEL a flame beneath your palm or would it burn not noticing at all beacause doesnt seem youre reacting as youre getting mauled. MAYBE ITS that spot within your chest between the things they just cannot forget. THAT SPOT WHERE THERES an open wound from which your heart falls out each moon and to the ground it hits the stone and there it sits til you atone for deeds that maybe have occurred though the pain is to insure. BUT DO YOU THINK the tear will ever close. DO YOU THINK youll ever add two more. COULD YOU EVER have three lines upon your chest all neatly in a row. AND IF YOU DID the body still could rid the heart each time returned to core and blood inside your head coagulated red with palms that have been burned - THEN WHAT WOULD IT BE FOR.

light meeting ink on a textured pin board
with unexpected encounters beside white clouds
i feel that we have been here before

the latest prints in a row
wave to me hello
and standing there i smile
looking at the shapes and colors for awhile

uno día voy a morir, ¿y para qué?
para la gente, la tierra, el cielo, a ella
estrellas en su cabello
ella está tan lejos
y estoy aquí.
no allí no allá, no es para mí
comprendo y sé
pero no me gusta aunque
es cierto.
la puerta cerrada, abierta y cada
vez la paso en la casa en cada caso
ahora estoy ya muerto

pink photographs sticky notes brac e let bar
shrink chronographs picky votes stake a guitar
link show no paths sickly motes tasting it jarred
brink
promo tracks stow though mats low foe packs so crow slaps
finicky face to picard

sitting in sun past locked windowed doors
wrist tendon tensioned from trying tagging for the first time
sometimes it pulls at my sleeve and i cannot predict when it will be, but at least it doesnt drag me like it used to
merely quietly suggesting to tentatively assume that it is true -
and i feel it striking down, rolling over skin, curling at the edge
but i will not give in

scintillated leaves
a cold piano sits
separated lights glinting over black
organic liquid crystal
made of melted sleep
silk screen politics
upheaval and sink

patience demanded now
it couldve been worse but i wasnt sure -
looking, and my thoughts are not current
and im sorry and im scared and is it worth it

unsatiated crown
cutting off, its all i know
the only thing i can control
and i worry and i falter
because all thats in my palms are stones

clouds fall and tumble into the sunset hues
they're flowers of the heavens picked by Sky just for Sun
and held by Mountains faded blue
strong with abstract limbs, in a fashion
I fix my posture and change position
to better burn my eyes with their passion

dunes roll beneath my toes
black sand over my belly
and silver into my nose

cloudy early brightly walking
auto pilot busing
an extra hour of penciled words
just for your entrusting
trigun sketches life drawn messes
another joined us later
and when the photos posted
he was clearly there and on the table in the conversation causing laughter blushing i was not expecting because now you know

but then at one, another ride
a couple window hours
yet again an extra time a walk sublime
the flowers were in blossom
cherry petal soles to your aunt and uncles home
a pink abode above a pretty road
a most beautiful smile just beyond the door

oh how i missed you

talk of alcohol and crushes/ down the block and such this is/ so wonderful i love you, club or tonic i dont know the difference

dicing garlic in the kitchen
noodles cooking bread baking i tried white wine for the first time
(it was not particularly good)
but i drank it and i love you, watching tv on the couch
the little man that mr chicken he is just a little guy
a darling baby boy a chunky kitten
makes me think to past and how it felt in the backseat of the hospital parking lot i miss him

long hugs by the sink, a purple face cloth to my hands
a day that is so beautiful
my love, the heart expands

integrals of goldfish and scrollin
significantly easier than expected
bracelets and blocks and rockets
from breakin a hundred

short drive the hill that rarely took
bowl of quinoa and another of pudding
just like the cups on the table of atla
waiting whistling losing air in digital pacing

it was four minutes after
one down and just to two
once again im wonderin but this time i know that its not true

cutting ice with knives and gliding with lemons
bodyprox'd knees and coworkers girlfriends
gargoyling fountains and relacing skates
i wouldnt much mind getting used to this

its dark and its late and you asked me what sort of changes id been thru
the second that ive ever told to

the first stop was closed but the next one was perfect
yoyo slingin in the parking lot
with rippled notes blastin tunes
reference typin effect affect i love you

there is a sort of divinity within the grip of pain
sustaining injuries like baptisms
have you ever seen the aching beauty of a bruise

they say purple is the color of royalty

and with a crown around my neck,
if my knees were god appointed monarchs
would you worship me

look away from the blood on my feet
turn your head when i fall to my knees
palms calloused from apologies and dreams
whispers from a part of me i do not wish for you to see

ah.
its been a minute
been around the block with my train ticket
travelin wicked fast with it in my hand missin all the scenery but bland cause it
not much
train dont stop for no **** but its your choice to go sit
to stay put and know this that you can jump ship
itll
keep you in hold you down whisk you away
make you forget why you just woke up today
just chuggin along takin its time but speeding for fun
got you rugged but calm, just restin in some methodical thoughts it could sweep you in routines hypnotic youll not
remember the windows again hear yourself in your head but instead coast through life leaving living on read
you gotta
open the door
lean out feel the wind but keep it open for sure
the grounds whippin by but youll be just fine one step more tuck n roll,
breathe.

a hesitant pencil
but will tell her will tell him will tell her
and i will be the one who is argued
i will be the target of decision
but i am not a choice
existence forever questioned perpetually advised with viewer discretion
and i will have no voice
will, no, dont, and never had
headed plattered dead
what is desired, is that right?
and tell me its my fault
it is not my place
but i am still human
even if you dont agree
and this is not debatable
despite what you prefer to see

Please/my/love, keep me awake
keep from hate
hate
hating myself for no one's sake but my own
but/yet, not even that
not for my sake
I can't even feel what it's like to be real
I don't even know where I'm going, please
please

please/my/love, take me to hell
before I take myself
make/me/see, it's not what I want
not what I want
not the place for me to be
before I take the one way trip
please/my/love, keep me afloat

coax/me, into your arms
into your life
tell/me, I will be alright
and by my side you'll fight
to find the light inside
because/my/love, you'll tell me that it's there
tell me that it's there
please
tell me it's there

there is such depth within his dark eyes
a depth so far when i reach out nothing touches
i will wait for the sound when i drop a rock
and i will sit there quietly for days
looking down his pupils
like sitting at a well without water without end
his image ripples at the edge and faintly i will notice
that it isnt him at all
that the rock will never land but always fall

early morning heavy bag with nothing else but hopeful
they said theyd be there soon
you say youll be there later
catan at engineering noon
was bittersweet flavored

water in the kettle
barely touched the mech on the table
last day tears in the after shelter mental
i was in the ceramics studio when you arrived when it all came together
rivers of slip and clay and dip and dip and swing

keeping printing lately squinting
we helped to bring the paper
you disappeared concerning feared
but just for shoes in your backseat

sparkled nails on the church's floor
behind the curtain essay typin
ping pong flyin wild story improv timin
next to those shoes scrollin and the topic was ace
so i dont know if its my place
but
as we left the lack of open doors was odd/
so then came back to the front lawn of god to give you a plastic bag of support
keepin rapport in some way of some sort
gracious hospitality that it wasnt raining
though when we were waiting there were trains and there was dogs/
but soon hes gone and hugged and loved

and now im in the front seat;
and then im in the drivers.

back window fogged, behind the wheel with you beside me reel and keel my necks still sore two days later just like my brain that needs a stapler
because i couldnt look at you
im scared of being fake but then/
music's meant to sing
i went to bed at 1 am
i dont regret a thing

ashes on a dresser's top
a candle lit for one
a deck of suns and split are some
stopped in small hands lost

a single boy fell to the floor
the messenger brings news
for few is it a story through
for most worn cards are torn

coming fast and about to hit
speed of light but even quicker
dissociated limbs that quit
a losing battle a quiet whimper
iced up feet in sheets of liquor
falling heads with IV drippers
crippled bones and blood made thicker
atrocious ripper zipped but flickered
wicker tricks grip wits of fleeting trips
grow weaker writhing trickled sick

sometimes I just get caught in the lines
in the rhymes in the rhythm
read aloud, "****, get 'em!"
impressed by my own self expressed
except when you really listen
when you really hear the words
they don't say much
but sound totally dope
like holy smokes man
your bars be smolderin
bold as sin, they better than
the weatherman
when all his lies begin

secretly I wish I could write better poetry
better raps tapped beat that catches perhaps
but here I am with random words you see
just tryna make a rhyme like
"insert generic line
that doesn't make sense
so vowel type connects"
like
throw away the meaning
the real reason for poetry being
and substitute jargon
bargain lines from the discount rack
filled with thrifted rhymes
again and again and again and again and again
and then
another written crime
cheaply bought counterfeit creativity
a dozen a dime
it's incoherent but it sure as hell rhymes
reused word count: two hundred sixty
recycled! green! clean! unoriginal poetry

sometimes I just get caught in the lines
in the rhymes in the rhythm
read aloud, "somethin' missin'"
called the content and significance
it's actually duplicitous
my poetry on feelings and existence
is really just equivalent
to keystrokes on a browser page
with no real value, no true substance
so never trust this
the words I spill upon this stage
coincidentally no coincidence
like this very post, for instance

sometimes I just get caught in the lines
in the rhymes in the rhythm
and forget the real mission
lose the real vision
composition
fake

sticky walls hug my heart, forever closing in
I'm trapped inside, secretly I
never felt my skin

neither have I ever felt the entrails of another
the very core the center most
all just seem like covers

for some, of course, this isn't true, and great respect to that
but I have no word for myself
I simply am abstract

over time
aspects will adjust some
I never feel the same two days
never like the same two names
and thus, my gender's Custom

we established rules what you think you doin
thought we had a deal man
why you go and ***** it
once upon a time
we had a good thing
but bro you makin sad decisions
it's completely maddening
I was havin lots of fun
and it seemed like you were too
but then ya just had to
go and break the rules
that really made me mad and now youre gonna feel my wrath
cause that's just how it goes when you biff it bad in minecraft

frozen mountains burned alive
familiar heads on security tapes
pleasure never measured in despair
upstairs dirt escapes
painless painted panel quaint
a king's bone split fate
constant midnight calls
hunger chasing useless cure
rings list cost installed
movie plans ocean braid
swayed stolen chains enthrall

the clock turns slowly
but the calendar quickly
soon my heart's lonely