I've let the world know that I love you (though my soul has loved you longer than my bones have known you) for 366 days now. I don't know how many days make up the centuries to come, but whichever the number is will be the number they put in the record books. "The Man Who Was Loved the Most and the Longest" the photograph will be of you, smiling aged in a worn out chair, wrinkled eyes and grayed hairs. And i'll be there, leaning into your side with a smile wider than any famous canal, prouder than any other historical landmark. Stronger than any ship that's sailed earth's raging waters.
Yeah, we'll own the record books and the text books and the bibles to come. Each page will have our names written somewhere, microscopic in the ink of every line and every marking will be with our love laced. There won't be a pixel without a hex code that doesn't decipher in beyond cryptic ways to our lattitudes/longitudes, names or even our own birthdates or anniversary dates. No one will know it, but we're gonna rule the world someday. Now be it so that the world we rule will not the same as the world the Other's know, it will be the world just the same. Though what we'll conquer will exist in only invisible dimensional planes (such as our brains), it's still ours to take.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 8:01 AM UTC
how could i deny the taste
of the lips that changed
every single part of me?
the stars crossed us so
tightly bound that i know
there's good reason to
laugh at the idea of 'escape'
there ain't no escaping you babe
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
i turn to face you,
having just had you
lolling in the sleeping afterglow
but you're not beside me
you're inside of me
hovering just centimeters over me
wrapping warm my body
in your silk blankets,
a heartbeat swaddled.
when did you start to love me so much?
weren't it just yesterday
you had me clinging to
ceramic tiles for any sense
of comfort while my
insides were spilling out?
i suppose i always
asked for a lover
as complicated as this.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 7:06 AM UTC
you ask for ***
in the most pathetic ways
pawing at my jeans
making puppy eyes at me.
dropping obvious hints
"i want you" &
singing about my skin.
sometimes you make me sick
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 6:54 AM UTC
Oh, what are we, anyway?
we are but only men, my love,
we are so simple it hurts
we are broken
we are what we aren’t.
it’s okay,
we’re in love.
behind doors slammed shut
these walls never see sun.
we are naked, separated,
we chew quietly on meat grown cold.
we sip softly milk gone sour.
because in a world so bruising
so tainted of blood,
so full of this lust,
we are clubbed, barred, ******
and hung up to dry.
the hate our hearts see
sews them shut.
and still,
we’re
in love
pushed in stenched corners
pointed in wrong directions
laid face down,
nose turned up.
we are sleeping
when we most deserve to be awake.
we’re touching hands
when hands are just shadows and fragments
of imagination.
we’re disgusting
when we’re in the presence of other men.
it’s okay,
we’re in love.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 6:43 AM UTC
aches in the old familiar way
that your heart once did
as a child, begging for love
as your mother's side,
to be quietly pushed away.
to have been shut up with
television, pills, food
(to think of your youth
well there's no word
to describe the guilt.
your mere birth was an
act of abuse on humanity,
wasn't it?)
this new ache though
leads to a progression
a growth in shrinkage
a strength in will that
you never thought was real.
this ache takes you
to a secret hidden place
full of the shimmering hope
that you'll feel whole one day.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 6:39 AM UTC
sitting in the ****** sunlight
pondering **** Jagger
and who’ll inherit his lips when he dies.
smoke chains from my mouth and
Motown comes to mind.
What I Got is a pregnant cat
with cautious green eyes.
what i think i’ll do is wait,
but when will i stop?
i’ve read my calendars
birthed my charts
and i still can’t decide.
wind blows up my shirt
school buses scream by.
Hey, Children, Hi.
my nicoteen teeth burp
and i’m pushing out a cigarette
heading back inside.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 5:38 AM UTC
drunken me no. 1
****** bread injury
drunken me no. 2
monday
drunken me no. 3
sunday
drunken me no. 4
thursday
drunken me no. 5
O.D.
drunken me no. 6
FRIDAY
drunken me no. 7
Died.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 4:32 AM UTC
you
in perfect transparent
translations
6 dimensional shapes
rolling, falling, flying
away.
i have no idea who or what
you are.
remember that chinese place
off old 66?
i had no idea who i was then
but i would do it a million times over
again and again.
schizophrenic eyes
telephone conversations
alternate zodiacs, tigers and sheep.
piscean planning
and piscean demise.
dolores haze,
her very essence left
trampled on the page.
she was such a beauty in those days.
do you remember those
san franciscan lies?
they say it never rains
but i see that it does
all the time.
i’m still staying there
for all my life.
sweet, sick little complexities
there’s never a cycle you break.
you were in a room rull of people
who would meet your same fate.
three before thirty
you had no clue you’d lead the way.
socially starved, you say?
i guess i can’t deny it,
but i’ll fight it.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
walking thoughtlessly,
a ****** path.
head in the clouds,
heart in the ocean.
admired the shores,
you did
i bet.
your skin of scales
reflective, but frail,
so badly bruised.
your last breath,
i hope you enjoyed it
while you could.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 4:29 AM UTC