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  Jun 2014 Hollow
Joel Emmanuel
of the tongue
               and body
           as it beats
              the demons
                 of my own silence to a gentle hum –
  a drunk laced
   representation
    of what the watching eyes
                                        desire,
            ­                            crave,
                              ­          emulate
                                          in their sacred spaces –
      center stage
     with every performer
         abroad this conditioned
               disillusion –
     how it masks
      all the confusion
       for those that
         jumped in early –
   the lights
    look so friendly
   when you need them,
      but it's you
        who feeds
            them
          and you die
    without knowing it,
                 you cry
    without showing it –
    mourn, in distractions,
      what could have been;
      what could have been
          if you didn't have
             to keep on
                       searching –

    the pen marks
   rely on the same security,
       lost in its
        contrived purity –

           the light is blinding,
            but it keeps us from
  rewinding,
  reminding
    our hearts of the pain
    or the game,
all the same –

wanting too much
for no good reason -
Hollow Jun 2014
This is dreaming and I know it is
Brushing against the hips of acceptance
I want to be a part of the family again
You can't sway my opinions at all

Why pretend to be afraid of me anyway
I guess bringing it up is a serious faux pas
You never want to talk about it anymore
Not since you let me go because of it

You just want to know if I have a job yet
Or some other insipid parental concerns
Am I going to settle down somewhere
Do I have someone who can help me

Is Monty the Dog eating Greenies
And am I taking my anxiety pills
Truth is, I was thinking about those
Taking them all at once the other day

I doubt that would have helped anxiety
But it would have gotten rid of the pain
Of being branded a pariah by nature
Can I please be your daughter again
  Jun 2014 Hollow
Chloe
Prep me for surgery.
I don’t know what’s happening.
This is an emergency.
A medical mystery.
Here’s my consent in writing.
My heart is gone, picked up and left.
Find me a new one.
Then sew it in my chest.

I am the Tin Man.
Colored hearts on my sleeve.
Drinking from an oil can.
Empty as can be.
With a map of misguided direction.
And the burning of my isolation.
I am the Tin Man.
Broken like you see.

I no longer have the heart to love.
Of course you refused and denied.
Wanting the things I couldn’t give.
You kicked me to the curbside.
How sad it must be.
Being the name no one will miss.
But I’ll mark you down on my list.
Even if it hurts to reminisce.

My joints are rusted through.
The hinges scream and grind.
Damage was all we really knew.
Tearing through body and mind.
The things that were stolen.
We now must replace.
At the bottom of the stairs.
And in the lines we erased.

Put me back together.
Give me back my skin.
I’d rather die from a broken heart.
Than live as a piece of tin.
Send a pulse to the vein.
Tune the drum at my core.
I am not an empty frame.
The Tin Man is no more.
This is the rest of Tin Man. In light of recent events it seemed fitting to post the rest of what I wrote years ago.
Hollow Jun 2014
I love the feeling
Of ice cold lips
White rain
Blue fingertips

Looking up as
Flakes of beauty
Caress my eyelashes

I can play guitar in the snow
And sing a song
Me and my dog

Wanderers
Ever so hollow
Just going with the flow

Like the little perfect flakes
Falling to rest
On the ground

And like snowflakes
We melt into nonexistence
Packing up
And following the next storm

There is no rest for the cold
I suppose my soul
Is
*Ice
Hollow Jun 2014
*** after drinks?
I picture it often

You are very pretty...

It's different with a woman
Much better, I think

Your skin is much softer

It's my tongue
Creeping along somewhere
Over plains of smooth flesh

It's the shiver down my spine
When you touch me* there
Darling, I expect pleasure

And oh, do you deliver
But do you not hunger
As well?

Let me explore your body
Erase innocence
Sin is best served with wine

But I never believed
*In books and such, anyway
Why should a god tell me whether or not I am heaven bound, especially based on my ****** desires? Heaven is a mindset. I created my own.
Hollow Jun 2014
Never here nor there
Rather, everywhere
A drifter
Wandering a sea of dust
And emptiness

For I am alone
This isn't a poem
It's a plea

No consistency
Stability a foreign word
Because my ******* mind
Won't cooperate with my
Stupid ******* needs

I can't breath alone
And that's all I am
Alone

How my body yearns for
The touch of warm fingers
The caress of arousal

But my mind refuses
To stay in one place

So I am lost to the wonders
Of love and such
Because I can't stick around
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