I expel smoke into the atmosphere
and think of all my ghosts this year.
I fumble the deck in search of fives
but still find the Jester half alive.
I stumble through old alleys
we used to go to, in search of songs.
But I do nothing right but fill valleys
with all of the right wrongs.
I absorb oaked *** into my veins
and felt hot tears in the rain.
All those moments — lost in time
the second you were no longer mine.
Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 2:15 AM UTC
I'm not mad I gave you my number.
I'm not mad I tolerated your nonsense.
I'm not mad I asked to watch Elysium with you.
I'm not mad we fell in love.
I'm not mad you helped me look for a flat.
I'm not mad you leaned on my shoulder in the cab.
I'm not mad you swooned me all over.
I'm not mad we fell in love.
I'm not mad we rode my bike to the coast.
I'm not mad we promised to marry there.
I'm not mad we feared the sun set on us.
I'm not mad we fell in love.
I'm not mad our worlds consisted of each other.
I'm not mad our children would have had stupid names.
I'm not mad our bodies were all but untangled.
I'm not mad we fell in love.
I'm not mad you ended it by telephone.
I'm not mad I didn't speak the last time we talked.
I'm not mad our lives won't be the same again.
I'm mad I haven't yet fallen out of love.
Jun 5, 2023
Jun 5, 2023 at 10:32 PM UTC
I don’t believe in the term I love you more.
It’s either you do [love] or you don’t.
We will not be able to quantify or qualify this feeling.
All things are possible when love lives in our hearts.
Impossible dissipates into the ether.
[I think] that’s just me.
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 10:07 AM UTC
I’ve been thinking
about death a lot lately—
or, that is, I think the image
my brain’s been showing me.
The vestiges of the visage
of who I used to be haunt me;
and in the crickets of my slumber,
I couldn’t help but wonder
about death a lot lately.
The quarks and the quasars I inherit
from the big bang of long ago—
elements that form Mercury—
collide back and forth, and
these are pangs that wouldn’t go,
and it has been deathly difficult
meandering out of this hole.
I’ve been lost in myself—thinking
about death lately so droll.
The synapses fire and misfire;
the subsonic trappings bellow
in the cave of my deep below.
These black-and-white films
feel rewired [rewritten annals]
of which I existed since long ago.
I resonate now an unholy see
of white-noise hellos; or:
the slow slipping of my psyche
around death a lot lately.
The string of unforced errors
does all but help me be still;
yet still the terror rises each
time I open my eyes to this
farce that I’ve been waking up to.
Since your “I don't care for you,”
I've never felt so unwanted;
as my heart opened and bruised,
my soul aches for yours dotted
along my arms so they feel whole.
I unravel when you’re in my mind;
in those twilight hours of just us,
for those unmeasured hours,
you were irretrievably mine.
And doubt may blur what we feel,
and walls may [and can] fall,
and in those moments so real—
yes, surreal—
and for those days that we were,
I haven’t thought about
death at
all.
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
I walked alone this earth,
walked with nothing but my feet along the sea.
A long road it seems; weary
and burdened, I walked for miles endlessly.
To see no sun, feel no zeal under the bright noon,
no light, no crisp draft beneath the full moon—
so dull and faint, my fading reverie.
My fate seemed sealed ‘til the day my path crossed hers,
‘til the day the woman I love saved me.
Alone I totter—blue skies overhead,
with a softness high above where I cannot see.
Standing on the calm of white cliffs,
carrying me, my yoke, and I so steady
and high, beyond, safe from the raging sea within me.
There is a light that brightens, the sunlight of hope,
There is a light that frees, a glimmer of evening’s globe.
With the woman I love, I quietly caressed,
by the cool breeze under a towering oak tree.
No more will I walk with two feet—
now four—and her smile so beautiful, so carefree.
A touch, a whisper, a tender together,
a belongingness—an intensity encompassing
my heart, my soul, my being with childlike glee.
So warm and bright is the light of high noon,
so cool, so serene, the waning light of the cloudy moon,
Time is now filled with her, with love,
with love, of love, from the woman who loved me.
Sauntering without a care in the world,
her hand holding mine, with fleeting hints of agony;
with a love that comforts, I am laden no more.
And yet, my love has begun to grow colder to me—
her distant gaze, words of discomfort, a ruse I can only perceive.
Hope setting in the distance, the skies turn gloom,
the moon comes watching our every move.
Gazing at her squander my love so unkindly,
the woman who meant the universe to me.
On a cold, dreary November morn,
I paced slowly for her cozy home.
Her locks left opened by the hidden key,
under the modest Welcome rug, sign, and marquee
to surprise her with bundles of roses and lilies.
Slowly, surely, I tiptoed over to her bedroom.
“Strange,” I muttered, confused, her lamplight lit akin to the moon.
All concern and dread rushed all over me.
“My woman, my love, what have I done to deserve all this agony?”
I trembled, hearing noises from inside her shut bedroom door.
Once t’was opened, carnage left me frozen on her floor.
Distraught and ire was what laid bare in front of me.
Seeing eyes frightened, staring straight with disbelief,
her lover under sheets of white embraced whatever my love bared.
“No, love, believe this is not what it seems,” weeping, she.
“The sun, moon, and stars tell you are my one and only.”
Blinded by despair, asking questions I tried not to seek,
daftly cursing the air, all answers were right in front of me.
“My love, my love, I will always be,
“forever yours for all of eternity.
“O lover, are those tears shed for me?” said she.
“No,” pulling gun then trigger, I hushed quietly.
There is a light of smoke, so sudden and loud;
there is a blackness of blood spilled, of anger unbowed.
A bullet through her lover’s head, a bullet through her chest,
and now I can no longer caress, no longer see,
the woman whom I have loved—and love still—with all of me.
Barred and treading alone this earth,
marching with nothing but chains on my feet along the sea.
*A long remorseful road it seems, weary,
and burdened, I will walk for miles* endlessly.
(This thought still haunts me.)
To have seen and lost the sun under the bright noon
and to have borne hope under the full moon,
once so bright and clear was my reverie.
‘Til the day our paths crossed,
‘til the day I killed the woman . . .
whom I loved with all of me.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
I look up to the sky, and all I think about is you.
It pains me when I see your name on my notifications
or the photos I have of you on my Flickr
or the photo pinned to my dresser
or the notes you left in a tin of mint
or the broken promise of a Bee Movie critique
or the wedding in a small chapel in the boonies
or the names we’ve made for our four [sic] kids
or the thoughts—
these ideas of a life together.
Because it was you who broke my heart.
It was you who left.
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
Naive wedding vows
under a towering tree
ends childhood ardor
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 11:36 PM UTC
I knew I should be alone
after the torment meant for me
had gone on and on and on and on
'til loud 2:46 a.m. was freed.
I searched for something to fill the void
that toyed with whatever mind I had left.
I opened cans, broke bottles, and soiled
what good I had left when you left.
So I met this one who unfurled and quizzed me to death.
And I loved her laughter, and she said, "Suddenly,
"I miss you when I'm not near you. My breath
"feels incomplete when I linger . . . without you."
And I thought, Finally, happiness is no afterthought;
but still I was empty as a camel thirsting
in the Sahara, groveling, with no life bought,
even in the oasis that was burning through this rot.
And then this amazing girl came right in front of me,
came on my face, and came on my crotch;
but I was emptier than a lonely pier out at sea.
I knew then this new sin she and I shared was botched
from the start when I said, "Hello,
"may I enchant you sometime?"
And over time I grew hollow, more hollow,
most hollow, when she tells me "You're all mine."
You haunt me still in my sleep and in the quiet;
your image seared right into my skin.
And I no longer have the will to calm this riot,
your voice embedded deep within.
It's 12:24 a.m., and my being yearns to feel hers,
but my heart belongs to someone else.
I see her for her in the dourest hours,
but yours is my birthright, and I haven't felt myself
being—trying to feel—all right.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 11:42 AM UTC
I cleaned up my cabinet today,
and I saw the first doodle
you had ever drawn.
I cleaned up my cabinet today,
and I'd thought I'd have the strength
but I found it was all gone.
I cleaned up my cabinet today,
and it was unearthing tin cans
I can't seem to break.
I cleaned up my cabinet today,
and the dust of what once was
I kept in an ashtray.
I cleaned up my cabinet today,
and all I have to remember you by
is how the n caressed your lips
when you said my name—or
at least think you never said good-bye.
I cleaned up my cabinet today,
and I'm trying to keep afloat
but there are too many holes in this boat
and I'm sinking,
thinking,
how to throw your memory all away.
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 3:27 AM UTC
I close my eyes to sleep
to see you smile through
your long, wavy hair.
Through uncoated curtains,
the warm gold of sunlight is
soft on your fair skin.
And pearls don’t shimmer
as your eyes, wide and (bright)
as heaven is on dark, cloudless nights.
And my eyes turn to yours
and we laugh like it’s new and
we fumble over hot breaths
and we sigh deep, (a deep,
contented sigh)
of unused I love yous.
And when mouths no
longer utter the right words,
the silence dwelt in is home.
In the blink of an eye,
the crank of a ****
once more the cogs of life turn anew.
Since when do flies feast hastily
on rotten hopes
of unfulfilled promises and dreams?
To sadly realize (terrible fruition)
there is no home to go to
when there is no you—a fate worse than
death.
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 12:07 PM UTC