I boxed up a year and a half today
Every photograph,
sweatshirt,
Mementos,
first date kisses
awkward hugs
A year and a half
In a box
I thought we’d outlast it all
yet I packed your stuff
and memories away in a box
I always thought
our love was too big,
too much,
too great
to simply be boxed
and stored away

Love is nothing more
Than giving someone a gun
Pointed straight at your heart
And trusting that they won’t pull the trigger

And when they do
The only person you can be angry at
Is yourself
Because you gave it to them

Memories
Are like
Invisible ink
You can’t see it
But that doesn’t mean
That they aren’t there

Dying
is like sleeping,
with no more dreams
to rush inside
and shake you up,
night after night.
And all those
memories you stored
in archive shelves
of blood and bone
will be by then
forever lost.

I’m tired of poems about
Hope and peace and love
And sadness and lore
Someone give me anger
Someone give me gore
Someone give me hatred
Someone give me war
Give me all the bitterness
That runs through your body
Give me something more
Than this superficial artfully crafted haze
Give me the reality of your pain
Because pain contains so much
Beauty that is often ignored
Give me your red eyed three am
Give me your lonely and twisted hearted
Give me your broken and sorrow
Give me your absolute dread of tomorrow
Lend to me your rage at the world
For we as an army, will wage chaos on the earth.

My sun went out
The stars were ripped from my sky
And through it all
I sat and watched it happen
I commanded it be done
I signed the orders
Watched my words work
And no one even tried to stop me.