Fresh air hitting newborn
lungs lodged in a memory
made of mealworms.
Chalking dirt between
serrated incisors.

The day I asked a new girl to be my girlfriend
you left a note at my house signed "love,"
telling me you were infinitely sorry.
Some things just don't have an explanation.

There is a knife in my throat
chalking chords between serrated teeth
words ground down to chunks of flesh,
they never last,
they taste like the last
of something we had.
When I kissed your face in my bedroom
there was no golden crust of light
you gave me head
and I didn't cum,
over the next year I fell in love it tasted
like blood in my mouth there is a knife
in my throat,
you placed it delicately
as if you'd be back to pull it out
with hands still warm from
spreading another's pulse
and stroking down the center
with one finger.

I said all the words I knew
in the hopes you'd hear some you liked,
I made a collage of spittle and stringy voice box
from my insides you didn't come back
so your note
is noted but there is no "us" curled up
in grand central station, no eyes glowing,
and there is nothing left to say, but

it hurt in a way I was not ready to know
and came from a direction I had never believed in,
neither of us are the same people.
Thanks for the golden days
most of them were
i'm sorry I crumpled so easily
I don't think i'll ever be the same
I think that's a good thing
but you had to know you had to know
what I didn't
and someday you'll grow up,
it'll hurt,
it's worth it.
So it goes.

To wish, to wish,
To dream a dream,
To writhe in nightmares of the obscene,
To ask, to know, to whisper, to scream,
The Waters of Regret, with tears, it teems.
The Night has vanquished the Softening Light,
The mind and heart, as one, in flight,
They try to spread their wings but unfold
Blackened remains of dreams so bold.
Skeletal and frail, they represent
The nothingness, the loss and lament,
They creak as they move in their fragility,
They yearn to wander eternally,
It happens that I do, indeed, readily
disagree fullheartedly,
With Love and its "virility".
Happiness is a virtue, a privilege,
Not a tome, a text, or pledge,
It holds steady in the worst of winds,
A Northern ship in the tides and spins,
The pitch and yaw of each barrage,
Makes one wish for camouflage,
From life, from loss, from all heartache,
All who I know regret me, their mistake.
Be at peace, I'm at peace,
It's the rest I need,
I try and remember when you were happy

I live so far away
And 3 phone calls aren't enough
Your Welsh hair has grown gray
Eighty years must be tough
Dad is long gone
I know that you are lonely
I so dread those calls
And I know that it's wrong
It's just that I can't bare
The sorrow that I'm not there
To help you along
You aren't heavy
You are my Mother
Frail yet strong
You aren't heavy
You. are my Mother

It's my heart heavy.

Don't worry you're not alone
Baby those days are gone
I promise you it will get better
You gotta keep moving on
Don't run away
You gotta keep it real for yourself
Don't do it for anybody else
Do it for yourself
I know it's hard
Girl I know,
Yeah I know
Sometimes I just don't get it
And I don't know why
Sometimes I'm feeling so low
And I gotta mantain
Pain makes you hide
But you'll get through this
We'll get through it together
Stay tall, Stay Strong

Finally, I broke...

I picked up the sharpener
and put down the pencil
took out the blade
let my pain become a stencil
for ruby tattoos
to tally mark broken hearts
how much blood will it take
to hide the scars?

The ends of my veins
are tied off with guitar strings
to keep the sad song inside of me
but I still worry that my blood will stop flowing
because did you know
that the ocean only moves because of the moon
and my constellations are fading
these waves are waning
it is only a matter of time
before the push and pull of these tides
stops like a kid too heavy for the seesaw of truth or dare

I dare you
to tell me that feeling nothing is better than feeling pain
because the heart
is nothing more than a muscle
bench pressing suicides
trying not to flatline
playing a marching band of panic attack drum rolls
and skip-a-beat silence
It has to feel something

and I can see it in your eyes
the truth found you
I can see it in the way you hold yourself
as if your bones have been hollowed
and are as thin as eggshells
I can hear the pain in your breathing
tell me where it hurts
and I will build you a ribcage out of my scars
because they have always been more solid than my bones
in the same way that I never believed in god
but I have always known about the monsters under my bed

There's not enough love to give these children.
I've lived in my father's shoe to know
that brutes like him cut through the vein
and let the blood seep
seep
into the deepest crack in the ground.

I tailgated the women that formed themselves
around philosophy and art--but not so much art
because they knife the stomach of the
very word as they put on their pretentious
stockings for those men--those men
who flick their pound of ash into the gutter
and claim to be gods of ethics
with their monotonous blather,

and I swear if I take one more shot
tonight
I'll become part of these sheets--
part of you, and those weeds will
be a beast to rip out.

The morning started with a shower
Arms braced against the wall in a kind of supplication
Pushing hard so damn hard you want to fall
You let the water wash your  dreams and pain away

The morning started with you leaving
Saying I'm so nice as you walk out the door
I know your tired cause we didn't sleep
I remember your whispered promises that were quickly disposed of

The morning started with you lying next to me
While I played Rilo Kiley
So close I could touch you but I could tell you didn't want to be touched

"Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can’t breathe
And I hope someone will help me this time..."

I played it in a moment of honesty
My one true expression as I watched the distance grow between us
I wanted to fuck you again cause I hoped it would mean something
Thank you for teaching me that the third time is the charm and the fourth is for sleeping not fucking
It's hard to find this kind of rejection early in the morning. Thanks for staying open late to accommodate me.

The morning started with me laughing  at you when you said where's the underwear?
Writers can laugh at painful parallels and prophesy true unintentionally but not uneventfully
It doesn't help me not want to fuck you again
So we fuck again for the third time. The last time.
You kiss less when your not drunk

The morning started with some smoke and water and generic Advil
Proscribed to all the fallen like vitamins
You look good naked
Next to me
I wonder what this morning will bring?

This morning started with me inside you the second time
You made me cum inside you like you wanted something that I had to give
Maybe love maybe pain -you did like to be hurt
You didn't remember that I said I want to hurt you less cause I actually like you
I choked you cause you wanted it more than me
I feel like Kriegers robot arm sometimes
Perhaps we could just affix a cock to the arm and I could be replaced
Go on vacation to the city of lost whore sluts
I hear the buffet there is wonderful

The morning started with me inside you
On the kitchen floor
I threw you up against the wall too hard
You fell down so I took you right there
On the linoluem Under flourecent lights
You were so tight and tender and tough
You fucked me desperately like you hadn't been getting enough
Sorry for banging your head up against the fridge

The morning started with you next to me
Both of us drunk
You kissed me right
Out of the many there are few that do it
It's a weakness for me and dangerous to believe in the power of knowing through a kiss
You dry humped me like a dog on speed
It felt good
That and the kissing
I said no
I wouldn't fuck you
Like I said before
You said it had been to long
That you never did this
I said I needed to wait
That I liked you
I didn't want you to be just a fuck
Not just for you
But for me
Sometimes even seasoned whores need to feel special
I said that I'd fall too quick
You can be very persuasive

The morning started with me on the couch with your friend
We had makers and he had Jameson
He called it neat but it had Ice
I didn't say anything
You told him that you knew me for a long time and that i was gay
In retrospect it probably helped that I talked about color and carpets and paintings and poetry
I tried not laugh as we tried to pass of our little deceptive parody
Sure it was successful but what does it really say about me that he'd believe it
Oh the irony of pretending to be gay to get a girl
The things we do
He left after a long soliloquy on decorating and fashion
I think you might be like me and sometimes confuse the facts of your friends and stories with your dreams
I thought your adept practiced and surreptitious deception was endearing
I wanted to kiss you all night so I was glad he left
After he was gone I told you in the bathroom that I wanted to kiss you all night and you dropped your pants and peed in front me
You looked at me like no big deal and said what I don't care
I really starting liking you then

The morning started at the bar the night before
You sat down and smiled and flirted with me
You told me I would have to wait a year and a half to fuck you
As we drank way too much and both grew more beautiful and gracious with every ounce of liquid forgetfulness

The morning started the night before at your work when I hit on you cause you were laughing and smiling and had a little halo

The morning started like any other morning
With lies and  rejection and sweetness and passion and loneliness
If I knew I was going to be used like this
I would have used a condom
Not to just protect against the std's but to protect from intimacy
I hope I won't fail on both counts
A little worried
That's why I write this story

Azrael Always James
© Copyright 2013

(I) do not stay up late
because I (am) not tired.
I like sleeping,
but I cannot stop (thinking)
(about) how little time there is left
and I know (you) are almost
out of my reach.

-cc