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Sep 2022 · 131
Grief
HearseTraffic Sep 2022
Grief is a son to no mother,
a nomad stuck in place,
complacent to the path forward,
a slave to the porcelain touch
of an outstretched hand
but left only to sweep dry rose petals,
long withered and crumbling,
slipping from in between the pages
that kept this love whole.
Written in September 2022
Aug 2022 · 504
Habit
HearseTraffic Aug 2022
You are the corners of my lips
You are the grip on my wrists
You are the habit I won't kick.
Written in August 2022.
Feb 2022 · 293
Blur
HearseTraffic Feb 2022
I'd walk through the flames,
inheriting any semblance of warmth
to remind myself that the burns
paint my skin in masterpieces.
Dragging uneven nails across my eyelids,
I'd pry reluctant skin apart
and beg my tears to blur the carnage,
knowing that every drop lost in the fire
is one wept for us.
Written in February 2022
Nov 2021 · 285
Dedication
HearseTraffic Nov 2021
Dedication is a wound
clawed into my chest
caressed by the ridges of your lips
that combed my own
with the taste of your kiss.
Written in November 2021
May 2021 · 285
Halo
HearseTraffic May 2021
My skin separates in each stride
to allow for your apparition
to seep through my pores
clouding every direction
in which I hope to escape.
Your ghost guides me hand in hand,
over the fading footprints
we've made in the concrete
that supports my only home.
Moving forward, block by block,
we uncover the debris we've laid
to cover our tracks
in search of a shade of violet
I'll never see again.
The asphalt parts with each step
revealing a halo in the gutter,
one removed in reverence
to the praises you sang me,
a desecration of the swan song
reverberating in my skull
every single ******* day.
Written in May 2021
Apr 2021 · 262
Roots
HearseTraffic Apr 2021
We allow absence in
to provide a catalyst
for gardens to grow
only to learn that life
is simply the vessel of loss.
That the tangled dead roots
beneath the thriving flowers
are the remnants of beauty passed,
surrounded by guarded earth
to protect the perennial grieving.
We soil our calloused hands
to remove the layers of dirt,
revealing the likeness of an unveiled widow
exhausting flakes of skin
to rid herself of grief,
only to discover that the roots we pull
crumble in our hands
as do the memories of love lost.
Written in April 2021
Apr 2021 · 252
Stillborn
HearseTraffic Apr 2021
A stillborn love will infect
every meaningless breath we take
until the last one escapes our lungs
and only then will our passion flatline.
Like red strands of hair falling slowly,
collecting on the same tile
that cradled my knees
in the darkest moments in which
I couldn't bare your absence,
our love dissipates in time,
rediscovered in the most unexpected,
brightest scenes of remembrance
only to be lost again in the hands
of those who would grab at the affection
we savored only for each other.
Written in April 2021
Apr 2021 · 218
Wounds
HearseTraffic Apr 2021
Drain the remaining passion
from my ever-flowing veins
ensuring I can only feel
through the faulty nerves
trembling below your flush skin.
Syphoning undeserved affection
in the harshest conditions,
I am a walking sickness
plagued with the mental violence
one can only transmit
through the antithesis
of a sacred Midas touch.
Mistaking vulture wings
for those of the most glowing angel,
I am condemned to clean the wounds
from talons that graced my spine
with the deepest cuts.
Contorted, bent over backwards,
I guide tired eyes over the incisions.
Bare flesh in each opening
reflects my inverted visage,
a monument for every misfortune I've allowed.
Written in April 2021
Apr 2021 · 237
Loss
HearseTraffic Apr 2021
Does loss leave us
the same way it greets us?
Like eyelids that contract,
forcing a moment of withheld beauty,
of an unrealized, blank canvas,
before suddenly retracting,
revealing the brightest emerald irises
a higher power could possibly create,
one second, here
the next, gone.

The dilemma of departing loss
waxes and wanes in those eyes,
like a changing of the tides,
offering a frenzy of firing neurons
that scatters the chemistry of a solitary mind,
removing an addictive absence
in favor of a purer presence
those irises inject into my veins,
effecting a high that fades in our shadows,
only to reemerge in the beaming sunlight.
Written in April 2021
Mar 2021 · 550
Detach
HearseTraffic Mar 2021
The tick of a clock
pulls at my wrists
forcing my breath
to explore new lungs.
But I would sooner
detach every limb
to hold onto a forlorn memory.
Written in March 2021
Mar 2021 · 235
Jade/Gold
HearseTraffic Mar 2021
The jade in your eyes reminds me that life finds a way, that what we seek grows in the cracks in the concrete we so desperately avoid. That the whispers we exchange act as incantations for the roots to break through the sidewalk beneath us. First, entangling our legs before surrounding our arms, forcing them to redistribute the warmth we've harbored for so long. Like ritual, consummated by amalgamated breaths that shine through a winter night, our touch is the conduit through which color deluges a reminiscent scene, one I've lived a million times and would live a million more if I could. We create significance in each pause between words and the harshest truths fade in what we leave unsaid. But melancholy still lives in the margins of the romance that finds its way through my corroded vocal chords, guiding every movement of my fingers as they brush through the gold of your hair.
Prose/word/emotion *****. Written in March 2021.
Feb 2021 · 170
Legacy
HearseTraffic Feb 2021
My legacy stands only as a testament
to a blind struggle.
To a war both won and lost.
A martyr to loyalty,
I've sculpted my tombstone
with my bare hands
in another's image
so I could sleep soundly underneath it.
A thousand eyes on me
and none would reflect my stare.
So much warmth in my hands
and only empty space in my grasp.
Now only dust collects on my coffin
to signify the passing of time.
I traced a pair of initials
so I could see us together one last time
and leave a halfhearted footprint
like my face in your dreams.
a place for which I paid handsomely
and I'd make it my home
if you would have me.
So that each time you blink
my stare would be reciprocated.
Seeing directly into a memory of my eyes
forgiveness would never look back.
Written in February 2021
Feb 2021 · 594
Blizzard
HearseTraffic Feb 2021
I swear I could see myself
right beside me
on that same sidewalk.
Dilated eyes looking back
praying for temporary solace.
Words glowing in the reflective snow
illuminated by my breath.
"Just one more day."
I looked in the distance
and read the storefronts
like memoirs of my past
and let the shine of the skyscrapers
be the spotlight of my transcendence.
I walked the same blocks
that knew me so well
and saw growth in the windows
projecting my own image.
I felt all the hands
that once held my own,
I tasted the lips that showed me love,
and I felt the sting of each corresponding knife
lodged deep in my spine.
They hit me all at once
as my feet carved a path in the powder.
I sensed relief in the blizzard
and let the clouds fall
to cover my footprints.
Written in February 2021.
Jan 2021 · 253
Attachment
HearseTraffic Jan 2021
Love knew no bounds
but the surface of your skin
and only we could create
a discord so powerful
enough to break its hold.
Still, no force rips apart
what attaches us in our sleep
and no sound can be louder
than that of the ghosts
we surely hear each time
our heads rest on familiar fabric.
The ones that pry our eyes open
and dance in between our ears
to ensure our torment doesn't
set along with the sun.
Nothing brings me closer
to the attachment I left behind
and no amount of time
could change the fact
that we were less
than the sum of our parts,
but no time seems to remove you from me.
Written in January 2021
Jan 2021 · 167
Catharsis/Curse
HearseTraffic Jan 2021
You are my catharsis and my curse.
Doomed to live on my shoulders,
dedicated to twisting my neck until it breaks.
Forever whispering in my tired ears
the things I so desperately want to hear.
Wiping the tears from my bloodshot eyes,
before they have the chance to paint
my cheeks in your favorite colors.
Pulling on my expired heartstrings with the ink
you could never stand behind.

The most beautiful voices will always
remind me of your loss
and the harshest ones will provide solace
in your perpetual absence.
But loss has become my most prized possession
and no voices can take it from my grasp.
No matter how scarred my knees become,
no matter how cracked my lips feel,
no matter how calloused my palms get,
I'll hold onto you with everything I have,
because you being my catharsis, is my curse.
Written in January 2021.
Dec 2020 · 143
Sunrise
HearseTraffic Dec 2020
Seeking shelter in the fabric
that protects us from a winter morning,
we still live in the illusion
that we'll capture every sunrise
for the chance to see a reciprocal smile
in the air's early radiance.
With two figures connected
in a deceitful penumbra
we can reminisce about
the memories we fail to make
and the scars we gently place
on one another's bare wrists.
As our breath forms a silhouette
in the sun's nascent rays,
we awaken to the empty space in our grasp
reserving our connection only for the moments
in which our minds lay idle.
Decomposing in a gray reality
but thriving in a vibrant trance.
Written in December 2020
Dec 2020 · 128
Tempest
HearseTraffic Dec 2020
In the middle of a tempest,
I would walk you home
hand in hand,
a million times.
Even if you were the rain
pouring down on us,
hiding the tears covering
the space between our eyes and lips.
Written in December 2020
Nov 2020 · 118
Florida Air
HearseTraffic Nov 2020
Your face is as pale as the clouds.
Somewhere I'll look
to see you in each journey
from the car to the front door.

It's those moments
that I feel your hand in mine
and pull at the empty space
to remind myself of the loss
that surrounds illegitimate memories.

While the pillows aren't the same,
and the dust doesn't collect like it used to,
my skin has forgiven me
for leaving behind your porcelain touch
and my lungs breathe the Florida air easier.

But it doesn't stop my eyes
from craving the chase
of stray red hairs on the sheets,
knowing they would be replaced
in the most relieving nightly reunion.

Still, the scars fade into the void,
every day, one by one.
And the ones that spell your name
have become as faint as your image.
The Florida air holds a debt I could never repay.
Written in November 2020
Nov 2020 · 104
Lilac
HearseTraffic Nov 2020
I fell in love with
the downcast shade of lilac
under your snake eyes.
Mediocre attempt at a haiku. Written in Nov 2020.
Oct 2020 · 94
Oak
HearseTraffic Oct 2020
Oak
Am I the wilted flower
or the towering oak?
Abandoned by the leaves
who so wish to see me thrive,
only to rejoin me
in a most relieving spring.
Like an old friend,
they know me and complete me.
Speaking in a tongue
reserved for those with new skin.
The perished fallen I've shed
live only in a resentful reflection
having strayed miles away
in time's senseless winds.
Perhaps by now they've crumbled
under the weight of our separation.
Their limbs one with the soil,
their frames dust in a still, winter air.
Written in October 2020
Jul 2020 · 102
Fire
HearseTraffic Jul 2020
Once a glowing porcelain,
your skin has long shed its warmth.
Manifested through raging fire,
what's left sits atop branches hastily gathered.

So make use of the foreign breath
you've deviously collected
and try to keep the blaze at bay.
Exhaling their toxic fumes,
you'll only feed the flames.

Immolated, you concede to the heat
and I still extend a hand,
only to be pulled to my death
as dedication burns me alive.
Written in July of 2020
Jul 2020 · 98
Garden
HearseTraffic Jul 2020
Your figure appears
only after rainfall
desecrating the plot
that protects my remains.
The garden sacrifices itself
welcoming the footprints
leading to the home you built
in the shadow of my doubts.
As the moisture leaves,
so does your image,
a mirage with scarred hands
begging to be held,
fading into the horizon.
Written in July of 2020
Jul 2020 · 204
Fog
HearseTraffic Jul 2020
Fog
Clouds fog my irises,
protecting distant ideals
from the wreckage
I've wrought on myself.

The mirror reflects distorted features
as I stain the glass
with empty breaths
I exhale between each lie.

Only in my sleep
I can see my true face,
masked in inconvenient metaphors
I've chosen to ignore.

Forever on stable trajectory,
I’ll never look through the fog
to accept the reflection
of the face from my dreams.
Written in June of 2020
Feb 2020 · 138
Ringless Fingers
HearseTraffic Feb 2020
Projecting a melody of sweet nothings,
gracing the ****** fibers of woven silk
that refuse the touch of ringless fingers,
your cold, disjointed lips beg for a vacuum
to prevent the senses of perception
from providing wick to a fallen candle.
Written in December 2019
Feb 2020 · 217
Halcyon Oases
HearseTraffic Feb 2020
Reminiscing in halcyon oases,
hidden in rough terrain,
our decaying remains pale
in the shadows of mountains.
Picturing a setting sun,
they shift only to the tune
of a thousand year erosion.
Tarred and feathered to warn the crows,
we committed to the scars on our wrists,
rather than the parachutes on our backs.
Written in February 2020
Dec 2019 · 169
Foreign Breath
HearseTraffic Dec 2019
Chasing ambulances
in pursuit of tragedy
to formulate a fractured identity,
your warmth dissolves
in each empty embrace
complementing the bitterness
in each bare meeting of our lips.
With hands warmed by contempt
we manifest in each taste
of foreign breath on our tongues,
our reluctant fingers reject familiarity.
Through the absence of static
failing to bridge tortured vessels,
a self-fulfilling prophecy
guides clipped wings to take flight.
Written in December of 2019
Nov 2019 · 158
Porcelain
HearseTraffic Nov 2019
Two porcelain roads
meeting at impasse,
routes of addiction
defining the slave to your map,
devoid of electricity
yearning to exist
between heavenly bodies
in our tragic afterlife.
Written in November of 2019.
Oct 2019 · 162
Scorpion's Sting
HearseTraffic Oct 2019
Slave to sordid thoughts
governing my well-being,
I am constantly consumed
by chemicals I cannot control.

Consider me a scorpion,
surrounded by fire.
With no options left,
I turn my stinger on myself.

Pierced in the back,
I am my own assailant.
With only meaningless metaphors,
I welcome the scorpion's sting.
Written originally as prose in January 2018.
Oct 2019 · 154
Echo
HearseTraffic Oct 2019
Wind into cavernous ruin
abandons its destitute source.
With refusal of reciprocal echo
Unworthy lips beg for forgiveness,
having disturbed the idle peace.
Written in October 2019.
Sep 2019 · 163
Disease
HearseTraffic Sep 2019
A polyamorous plague
defined by a sharpness in the spine,
paints a night sky's view
reflecting the grotesque hue
which only your heart could produce.

Draining infected sweat
from tainted sheets,
every petal succumbs
until the flower wilts.
Collapsed under the weight of your disease.
Written in September 2019.
Sep 2019 · 163
Embers
HearseTraffic Sep 2019
Only amber could capture
the abandoned embers
on which we’ve exhausted every breath.
Cooled into insignificant ash
we’ve swept them under the rug.
Unbeknownst to the watchful eye
they lie perpetually dormant.
An existence forgotten,
a potential made obsolete.
Written in September 2019.
Sep 2019 · 290
Footprint
HearseTraffic Sep 2019
Your ghost lives in each footprint
caressing only the memories
of the soles of our feet.
Your scarred hands condemned
to forever gather the salt
from the oceans of tears
that failed to find homes on our cheeks.
Counting every grain,
you won't find substance
in a forlorn dream.
Only sorrow in futility
commitment to the never-ending game.
Written in September 2019.
Sep 2019 · 452
False Prophet
HearseTraffic Sep 2019
False prophet
Faith confounded

Lust akin to genocide
Indifference feigned innocence

Thirst for treachery
Disregard for rationale

Release me from captivity
Free me from passivity.
Written in September 2019
Sep 2019 · 255
Turncoat
HearseTraffic Sep 2019
Entertained only by false futures
Our eyelids paint a peaceful projection.

But what is the weight of a turncoat's word
to six feet of earth's burden?

Straining tired eyes, the saints will smile
as the worms serenade us both to sleep.
Written in September 2019
Sep 2019 · 438
Gravity
HearseTraffic Sep 2019
Clinging to the edges
of a moving platform
that just refuses
a desperate diplomacy
Losing a grip I may have never once had

Retracing my steps
into familiar footpaths.
I'm constantly letting go
and always holding on.
Maintaining affection through the graze of rope.

Stepping onto my stage
of curtain call acceptance,
A grand finale,
a bittersweet sendoff.
Trepidation by the kick of a stool.

Salvation at the forfeiture of stability.

Gravity my only influence,
the one in which I'll always believe.
Written in September of 2019
Jun 2019 · 280
Rorschach Test
HearseTraffic Jun 2019
Counting in sixes
to pass the time,
analyzing the Rorschach test
I only hope to leave behind.

Guilty habits I can taste
on every notch of the barrel.
A legacy left determined
by a hair trigger will.

Permanence to the temporary,
grasping at the lead.
My only saving grace
to replace the thoughts in my head.
Written in June 2019
May 2019 · 269
One Another
HearseTraffic May 2019
Lying next to one another.
Our secrets permeating the air around our bodies,
securing the formation of inseparable bonds.
With a taste of relief, your skin cauterizes my open wounds.
Pasts dwell into the periphery as the moment takes over.
Like providence, we were led to one another.
From our lowest points we rise, destined for a chance at stability.
An end marked with a beginning as we observe my past self escape in all directions.

Give me everything, and I'll give it back.
Be mine, and I'll be yours.
Pick me up from this hole, and I will offer a hand.

Endless stares complement grasped hands as we crawl towards the future.
Lying next to one another.
Originally written as prose in September 2017
May 2019 · 248
Hand in Hand
HearseTraffic May 2019
Hand in hand
but all in all,
worth nothing.

Descending from the gallows,
recounting a life worth living,
reborn from meaningless ashes,
a phoenix gives its last shot,
forever indebted to the flame,
having cleansed it of its past.

We traverse the beaten path,
prepared to drive our own hearses
into familiar bodies of water.

Tracing our veins like footpaths
mapped to the graves of previous lovers,
we dream of blades to sever ties.
Sever the ties to the past,
drain our tears into hollow caskets.

Hand in hand,
all in all,
worth nothing.
Originally written as prose in January 2018
Apr 2019 · 1.0k
Bottled Salt
HearseTraffic Apr 2019
The protagonist of every romance in my dreams,
I can't even utter your name without ripping apart at the seams.
Chewed up and spit out,
I've been left so rotten.
This corpse wanders the streets desperately waiting for your touch forgotten.
I love you, but I don't like you.
I hate you, but I can't live without you.
Forcing my vocal chords to submit,
I curse your name one last time as I rearrange the fibers holding me together.
Collapsed in the depths of our collective tears,
I bottle the salt used to disturb wounds reminding me of who bore them.
Reminding me of who brought me here.
The vehicle of this descent.
The antagonist of every romance in my dreams.
Originally written as prose in August 2017.
Apr 2019 · 770
Melody
HearseTraffic Apr 2019
An endless stream of self-eulogies
crashing onto tile,
like bones conceding to concrete.
The whistle of terminal velocity
harmonizing to a death rattle,
a melody for tired ears.
Written in April 2019
Apr 2019 · 359
Deadly Dull
HearseTraffic Apr 2019
Whispering repeated refrains
out of tired lungs
like stabbing myself
with a sheathed dagger.
Death by a million scrapes,
solace in the deadly dull.
Written in April 2019
Apr 2019 · 258
Ball & Chain
HearseTraffic Apr 2019
Ball and chain,
I’ll never leave behind,
carved into my headboard
but faded over time.

A library of sacred texts,
promises you’ll never keep.
I’m standing on the edge
but hesitant to leap.
Apr 2019 · 173
Hollow Point/Life Support
HearseTraffic Apr 2019
Etched into hollow point
wedged between mandibles
forever wired.

Your initials,
life support
for a million dreams.
Apr 2019 · 320
Phoenix
HearseTraffic Apr 2019
I am a phoenix in water
stained by tears
of which no shower could absolve me.
I am a single moment of suffering
trapped in amber,
a paradox I'll never see.
Apr 2019 · 205
Solitary Figure
HearseTraffic Apr 2019
A solitary figure,
once unfathomable,
appears through a haze
extending a warm hand
I just can't quite take yet.
I've stuck to my guns,
they've all but turned on me.

— The End —