Your feet have no longer stepped along the shiny finish of my floors.
Your smell, no longer seeped into the fabric.
Your awkward presence no longer lingers at the door.
My house is no longer the home you choose to pick.
Your love no longer resting on my bed.
I miss the way your laugh danced around my room,
it loved to kiss my silly head,
the chamber that is now your incarnate tomb.
When you see me, is it still hard to breathe?
When I touch you, does it make you just break down?
Does the way I hug you make it hard to see?
And in the scent of me, you love, you drown?
You're a good actor, fool. Jerk. Dope.
The way you're acting now is prime.
The way you act like I'm not there, that's what you hope.
And how you really cant see me. How I cry, inside.
Take me back, Imbecile!
We can kiss through the dawn.
Passionate love, kiss me unforgivable.
But you can't even love me when I'm gone.

I was there from the time you were born. I stood in
the delivery room, staring down at you before you
could even open your eyes to see me. Your
parents, relatives and doctors couldn’t see me
there, in the corner, watching you with cloudy eyes,
but I was there from the time you were born.

And I followed you home.

I was with you always, your constant companion.
You played with your toys alone while I stared from
all angles in nearby mirrors; my matted, clotted
hair with oily sweat that hung off my dented
forehead like glue. I was always your constant
companion, drifting behind your mother’s car on
your ride to preschool. You alone in the bathroom,
but I was on the other side of the door, wind
whistling through the bruised hole in my throat. My
arms twisted and hanging in their sockets as I
stood hunched on the other side of the shower
curtain. I wait and follow you. I follow and drift
behind you.

I’m not seen. I’m almost not-there in light. You
never saw me that morning as I sat across from
you at the breakfast table, a shiny red clot hanging
from an empty tooth socket as I gaped grotesquely
at you. I wonder sometimes if you know I’m there. I
think you are aware, but you’ll never understand
just how close I am.

I spend hours of your day doing nothing more than
breathing in your ear.

Breathing – gagging, really.

I crave to be close to you, to always wrap my
crippled arms around your neck. I lie near you ever
single night, cloudy eyes staring at your ceiling,
underneath your bed, at your sleeping face in the
dark.

Yes. You caught me staring occasionally. Your
parents came running down to your room one
night when you screamed. You were just beginning
to talk, so you were only able to cry out “Man! Man
in my room!” You thought you’d never forget the
sight of me, with my collapsed jaw hanging to my
chest, swinging back and forth. I sank back into
your closet and your mother was unable to see me
though you pointed and pointed and pointed. You
thought you’d never forget when they left that
same night. You saw the closet door crack so
softly and me crawling across the floor to your bed
on all fours, shambling in jerking movements as I
pushed myself under your bed on disjointed limbs.

You learned a new word for me: boogeyman. Not
quite the monster you thought I was. I’m just
waiting and following you always, touching your
face with my knotted fingers as you sleep.

You’ll see me again soon. Any day now, I’m
coming, blunt and brutal. One day you’ll walk
across the road and – I believe I’ll plow into you
with loud roar and a screech.

You rolling on the pavement, rolling under wheels,
bluntforce metal fenders and my fingers touching
your face again and again.

As you stare up from the cold pavement with
cloudy eyes; your matted, clotted hair hanging in
your face and your jaw unhinged and swinging to
your chest.

You’ll see me approaching.

No one else will see me. You will stare past them
into my eyes and I’ll leer down at you. For the first
time in our life, something like a smile will come
over my face. You’ll swear you’re looking into a
mirror as clotted red bubbles from our mouths.

I’ll lean down, past the doctors and the oogling
people and pick you up in my crooked arms.

Our faces will touch. My wings will unfurl. And then
you’ll have to follow me.

And I am always with you.

I am your guardian angel.

10 days of hunger
why?
(these are the sounds you make)

You're an excuse
ok
(but we've been through this before)

Do you hear that?
yes
(and this is the sound of something breaking and imbedding)

Tell me
the knife in the dishwasher, the one they used last night

Do you know what happens if you fail?
Another masacre
(we have been accounted to many nights of no sleep and dire paranoia that I'm filling the room)

Stab yourself
Where?
(am I lying?)

Soft light flits through the room
It splays shadows as dancing spirits

Over soft covers, are the shadow's object
Whispering kisses and louder sighs

Enfolded in this dance, is the soft firelight:
the gold of her hair, flashing in movement
in tempo with 'twined hands, with the pull
together, the arching touch, and then the
openmouthed cry: hands clench tight,
mouths meet, and fire flares high
A wet heat, unequaled, until
into each other they fall
Content

Later sleep comes
and the softlight shadows
are cast peaceful
Enfolded in arms

If I was given a day
  By god
  Or whatever force there may be
It would be with you
In an empty room
  and you would speak to me
I would ask no questions
Utter no words
Invisible buttons would be connecting my lips

You would speak of it all
What makes you laugh
Favorite memories
Why you're so shy
  your weak spots

If you're selfish
what side of the bed you like
hot or cold  
sweet or sour
Marvel or DC

I would watch
knuckles cracking
touseling of thick hair
squinty giggles

My heart would grow immensely
With every
   Secret.  Hobby.  Weakness.  Preference.

watching your lips move
and your face morph
With every emotion

my heart would reach to you in sorrows
and leap at triumphs

Butterflies would become a typical occurrence
a smile tattooed on my face

that's all I desire
You
  I
voluntarily trapped in a room
shedding our skin
specifically yours

in no way is that strange
In fact   it's beautiful

In the days filled with vacant eyes
Lost in the timid nature of hollow lies
A man was left too corrupt to realize
The exact root of his own demise

Blanketed in the emotions of doom
He forges his self made tomb
Leaving behind a dimly lit room
And the portrait of a family cartoon

Darkness in a room where I lay forever
Embodied by a world that guarantees
Nothing

So I'll lift spirits up and ask,
To trap me in a graceful heaven
Created by a simple unconscionable love.

And just as a last thought,
I'll laugh at my nightmare
And I'll strive to never be
A shadow in memories