It is
Whatever you want it to be.
How you perceive is your perception,
Your perspective is not deception
-But why are we so reluctant to make use of affection?
The detection of attraction exhibits bits of satisfaction
That neither of us can speak of.
If push comes to shove,
Don't make me make you fall in love.
If I can't have your body
I don't want no body.
Celibacy.
It will be a delicacy to insituate the thoughts that insituate your time
I'll obituate your loss
And re-birth worth in your mind-
The situation
Is a mind **** manipulation.
I will eliminate the
No
And inseminate the
Yes
Undressed across your expression
The progression
Of *******
The contents of your mind until you bare a confessional corruption
For when mutuality is in play;
Manipulation is just seduction.

...The blood of
the daughters and the
sons of those mothers and
fathers who have been
butchered
in the name of a belief
that transcends reasons
are screaming beyond
agony
But
it seems the heavens are
crowded with
the devil's
******
and the cries were ignored while
they danced and
feasted upon flesh
upon
flesh
They, the mothers and the fathers
languished under the skies
wondering
what has become of
God…

I saw you in Tim Hortons for the first time in three years.
You told me I had grown and
I congratulated on you on your weight loss.


She is my best friend.
You didn't raise a child,
You raised an ironwork frame.
You threw a girl into reality before she could even spell the word.

And I would love to look at the other side, but I can't—
it always loops back around like that little girl
doing circles around on her ten-speed as she pulls up
to the convenience store to buy you cigarettes.

Hey, at least you called her an ambulance—
On Thanksgiving Day when she passed out
from lack of nutrition because you spent your last welfare check
on something I don't even want to hear your excuse for.

I remember my mother, coming into my room at eleven pm on a Wednesday, telling me to put some shoes on because you snapped a pool cue and placed it to a guy's neck.

My pajama pants ripped as I broke into your apartment to wake my best friend up and tell her that my mom was parked outside and she had to spend the night at my house.

You spent the night in the drunk tank hitting on officers.
She spent the night beside me crying and asking for any other mother but you.

We were in grade 6.

When she was 13, she had to live with me for 3 months because social services deemed you, "unstable."
When she was 14, she moved away to the city because she couldn't handle you anymore.

I went to visit her last weekend and she didn't say a single word about you.

A blank white space of time,
where your words rebound
from the walls of my skull,
bullets in the midst of a
ricochet.

Who am I to give you what you so badly desire?
You, whose eyes are full but dim,
whose laugh is loud and empty.
You come to me with this longing,
this supposed need,
and request from me to drive away
these demons from your
tin can of a soul.

How can a phrase so simple be so difficult to understand?

If I give you from myself,
it will be from the best parts,
and those alone.
The language of my soul
will be yours to decipher.

Can you hear me
from across this drunken spinning darkened room,
or are the flashing lights
affecting your hearing?
My eyes are screaming ****** screams,
the green melds and mixes
and turns to brown,
you say how strange,
your eyes were green an hour ago,
as you sip your beer frothing onto the table.

Do you feel my heart pounding,
my sweat glands opening
in my neck and down my back?
No I'm not used to this,
my body is mine,
always has been,
and who are you,
so special that I should give you a share
forever in me?

Legs open, flowers unfurl,
what's that, you're a florist, you say?
How intriguing.
Hands shaking, eyes closed,
senses on full alert,
and who are you to do this to me,
with me,
this vicious crime against my soul?
Hand upon hand, lips upon skin like velvet,
forehead to forehead and heart rates decrease.
Your eyes are shining poison
and mine confusion.
It's a process to process, I say, and you nod,
and I'm surprised to note that you're still here,
I'm still here,
cars are still honking and the world continues to spin on its axis.

My heart retreats from my throat to my chest,
and then surprisingly,
it stops before hitting my stomach
and falling splat on the floor altogether,
****** and veiny and tired of beating.
No, it stays securely in place,
and as I digest this information again
I notice that you have not gone.

You watch my struggle
and your eyes are so sad,
so full of regret that I forget myself,
my heart,
my stomach,
my fear.
I want to cut out the feeling parts of myself
so that I can say goodbye
to this part of myself calmly and with poise,
leave it to dry up in the desert sun
on a sidewalk next to the dog ****
I almost stepped in earlier today.

You collect myself,
I collect yourself,
what is love without pain,
hello without goodbye?
Fear is a game.

Stand up straight,
tighten your belt,
focus your mind till it's a
sharpened pencil.
Rule yourself and in the process
allow yourself to be ruled.
Feel the warmth
hidden in the frigid air
like a child who plays an
endless game of hide and seek.

Embrace yourself,
allow yourself to be enfolded
into the soul of another.
This is a test of your faith in humanity.
We are good,
you and I.
We are honest, warm,
we are miracles and wonders
walking a planet filled with emerald greens
and far away horizons,
glittery night skies and reflective snowy days.
My soul is aglow,
and yours is as well,
and maybe together we can provide enough electricity
to light a home, a skyscraper,
the whole city of Manhattan.
We owe it to ourselves to try.

So goodbye, fear.

I leave you with a kiss and a sad smile.
You look so lonely there,
naked in the windy night.
I'm sorry I had to strip you down, fear,
and I thank you for what you've provided
until this moment,
but I must leave you now.
I don't want to hurt you but I'm glad
you cannot follow me to the places I'm going.
My soul is home to other beings now,
and I simply do not have a guest bed
for you to lay claim to.
Goodbye, my once upon a time.
My love is now directed elsewhere.

i'm the kind of drunk that
floats home gracefully
in boots with soles that
slip and slide through sobriety

i wake up with bruised knuckles
and stiff fists and wonder what
witless wonder stood in my way,
only to find out that a few garbage
cans looked at me wrong

keg stands, house shows, hipster
filled houses with filtered lighting,
the stench of hand rolled cigarettes,
familiar faces blurring into
bearded babes once i've got my
goggles on just right

i sit around and wonder,
when the **** am i going to grow up?