The weight of the guilt I have
For the things I said about you before you died
Sit on my chest
Press me to death like a Salem witch.
Every time I drink I indulge in my tears
That I have no right to;
All I cared about when you were alive was vengeance for the way
You made me feel,
When I should’ve thanked you for opening my eyes
And I should’ve looked right through you
With open eyes-
And seen that you were dying inside.
I wrote that you were dead to me,
Not intending it quite literally
Not wanting for awhile
I manifested that for you-
I await my witch trial.
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 10:21 AM UTC
Soft-spoken with the loudest presence in the room
A March wind that caresses through
Petals of daffodils in bloom
A salted sea
Stinging fresh faces under the moon
Eyes blue like the world under cloud-covered dusk
Eyes like the clouds and everything beneath them, his dusk
He returns to his place by the sea
The new moon brings new clarity
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 12:52 PM UTC
I play the fool for something more sinister,
There is no compass arrow or
answers in tarot
or time.
Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 3:43 PM UTC
Make me green again.
Like pine, emerald, envy
Paint me my color
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 10:24 AM UTC
I could only look at you as another crack in the dam of my morality
A wave of feelings meant to untangle and unwind my heart and make it feel something sweet
It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know it was soaked and flooded with sin
I go home plenty nights with my clothes soaked in beer and my teeth in nicotine
The teeth that keep cracking in my dreams of insecurity
Cracking and falling fences keeping me in falling
Through a ******* blowing wind
And in this scene
all I see are the silhouettes of my regret
In every life-giving breath provided by a cigarette
I could walk for days away from you
I would walk straight into a fire, flood, or plague
Rather than feel what I did again
Madness is a sea of caring for someone like you
I can’t be bothered to be eclipsed by care again
I change faces like I change shoes
Trying people on for size to temporarily fill the glass of emptiness that is my heart
Its been dropped and chipped and put back together but why would you choose mine over a fresh, clean new glass
I don’t blame you
I know you see the turmoil I would cause you right on my face
And I feel bad for the others who haven’t been able to see it so clearly
I don’t mean to hurt anyone but maybe I do
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 7:31 PM UTC
A few nights ago I dreamt of the memories I have with you,
They were all dusted in snow and I was trying
to find the footsteps pressed within them that I could trace back to where we were.
I stayed lost in the land of the past until the sun began to rise
and melted each memory away
and lit the road back home.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
My mouth is dry with the taste of the smoke and yearning,
Incense sticks lit on my tongue with a lick of whiskey lighter fuel.
Burning down to each moment where the ashes of you
Would fall off my tongue,
Until there was nothing but ashes by the end of the night.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC
Incense smoke floats around my room,
like ghosts of my memories.
The right way to describe it enters and leaves me daily,
soft voices too timid to stick around.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 3:28 PM UTC
What are you doing? I’ve been up all night listening to the earth moving,
I’ve toiled through the day without your light to illumine
And I wonder, what are you doing?
*You’ve not known even half this night,
It only feels so because it's burned on so long
And the days only feel darker because of my tempest turning strong
And you’re right-
Preparing day and night,
embalming my body with every chemical I can find
Carving and crafting a crypt for my mind.
Ending this torture, heavy,
A man in his mortuary
ready to waste this winding sheet
And feel the earth beneath my feet.*
Love, what do you mean?
You’re right in front of me, I could reach out and touch you
Or couldn’t I touch you, only a ghost of my dreams?
*No, dearest.
Between this cold and you, it was the cold that was nearest.
Your love could not yet try to interfere it,
I could hear it.
A whisper calling me forth,
It's time I bury whats broken, redeem my worth,
And build myself new.
But to do so, is to do so without you.*
So a ghost not yet, but a ghost to become.
Widowing beside your tomb
Wanting to exhume you
But the better part of me will let you rest
As long as the flowers held against your chest are perennials.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 1:23 AM UTC
So they flee; once beautiful narratives detached from me and took off running.
For my own sake, I eventually follow and take off hunting.
Crossing the bridge to the ocean, finding no words above or beneath their pillars or the sun-setting shades on the water in motion.
Maybe I'll find the words perched on the bridge as a little black bird, who mirrored me in a way that resonated with my soul but whose tune sang not one melodic word.
I go to the ocean, and heavy waves collapsing onto beds of sand sighed no release for me, and I leave.
Home, I paint a picture and coaxed a thousand empty words out of it, that rang like broken records and sang to me deep into the night.
I awake to a blizzard, beautiful white.
A cold I felt I'd brewed with my mind
So I try and dive into a novel only to find my mind's waters shallow, and the pages became no more than ink printed paper.
I think myself incapable;
I look to the bottle, mostly white,
It sat on my nightstand by white papers that so longed for me to write.
I kick my head back and let the words pour from the bottle and back into me, loosening my grip, they could finally flow free.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 2:43 PM UTC