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Autumn Feb 2018
I'm afraid to tell you
I'm afraid to show you

the skin beneath
the wrist up close
the bare thigh

I'm afraid that I want to tell you
I'm afraid for you to know

that every drunken night
I find myself in the bathroom stall
unsheathing my glistening release

to feel anything but lonliness
please, don't think less of me when you see my emotional history on my body
Autumn Feb 2018
a stirring of gauges and cogs
winds up a smile
I stare out a greasy bus window
moments after our fingers quietly touched
the warmth of your skin revving back to life
this long dead machine
  Feb 2017 Autumn
Edward Coles
Somewhere, amongst the debris
of cigarettes after ***,
chemicals to induce sleep,
I forgot what it means to love.

I forgot what it means to breathe,
to sit still, and just be.

Somewhere, beneath these hooded seams
of solitude and well-versed grief,
beats a heart less cynical,
less tamed by vague distraction.

My nervous ticks and bad habits,
line of best fit for a near-hit
of satisfaction:

This is not enough, I know.
This is not nearly enough
to cool the bray of life
that still rattles meaning in my bones.

I forgot what it means to love,
what separates a house from a home.

Somewhere beyond this thirst
for brand-new words
is a gratitude for all that has been.
Every cliché holds a truth.

Every sentiment, a cocoon,
that I should lie so still inside

until I am wholesome,
until I am new.
Autumn Feb 2017
Dear Self,

  Butterflies and a rushing heart beat
  you've only found in the presence of men
  now captivated by a feminine force,
  a gravitational pull toward:

  porcelain skin
  a starlet smile
  the faintest scent of essence
  hypnotist eyes that keep you still
  lips you've dreamed to kiss

  Internal struggle prevents you from acceptance.
  Just admit it.

Your closest friend,


Dear Soul,

  What else is there to say?

  I'm falling for her.

Autumn Jan 2017
I didn’t think it would happen again
it slithered out of its hiding place
back into the curvature of my palm
and with it came the ****** calm

I didn’t expect myself to return
to the fetal position of decay
my soul was improving so well
for such a quick descent into hell

I didn’t know my thoughts continued
to darken my veins from blue to red
since I sought a cleaning crew to
mop up the shame thoroughly through

I didn’t want to have to hide again
to wrap and nurse and lie
this time is different, this time I take leisure
i deserve the slow, deliberate fissures
Autumn Aug 2016
My emotions are a pool, draining
through the empty space between fingers
pulsating downward as solidity wavers

Death has skewed my memory
Callous disposal has mutilated me
Fear has silenced me

I watch my passion spiral
down the pond I cup in my hands
through the empty space between fingers

Numbness is approaching
as the unsoaked, dry portions of my body
repel my last drops of feeling
Autumn Jul 2016
You spot the skirt of a violet dress
fervently draped of black lace
You feel a tug on your chest
You must see her face

The dance floor is a river of crashes
You force your legs to swim in
As her bodice comes into view
Her blown glass figure promises sin

You find violent black curls at her pearl shoulder
As you tread through sway, you strain for her
The music rises as you bid her to turn
While billowing skirts and fluttering tails hide her

You are about to drown and lose her
Before you see a trench formed of people
You reach and gasp as you pull through
She's real. You see the purple

Anticipation. You touch her shoulder
Her grace. She turns and catches your breath
Cranberry red lips reach for rosy cheeks
Midnight lace shadows her eyes like death

She offers her hand to you, waiting
You are entranced in her seductive lips
As you fly her to the river
You thrash into waves with her hips

You try to look through the black to see
She strains her neck from you
“No one sees my soul” she says
Disappointed, you only caught the hue

You feel her melted on your lips
Her skin a valley of nocturnal silk
Your curios hands run down her arms
Liquid. Your fingers feel warm milk

You bring your hand up to see
You look at her wrists emitting scarlet
Blood oozes up her arm, drips down her dress
The skirt flows with wine red wet

The room is empty, hazed by shadow
She drops, you hold her arms from giving
She is a crimson vortex, drowning herself
“Let me. You forget and keep on living.”

Voice of reason and acceptance
But static of pleading and reaching
She doesn’t want to die, you think.
You ease her out, the blood draining.

And now, there you two sit, painted in red
You bandage her in momentary peace
You decide to lift the heavy lace
The cosmos stare back at you in release
short story/poetry
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