My head is a car wreck:
oil and gasoline spilling out
like bloodied bodies
between shattered windows
and jammed in steel doors.

A pile of iron bars slips
and shoots out a spark to ***** liquid
crawling slowly toward a curbside drain,
and I’m on fire.

The words I worry you'll say,
will char my bones to powdered black.
I see us sitting on your bedroom floor
facing each other, while you calculate
whether loving me like you did
on your front porch is a liability.

I’ll admit to the risk
and show you the scars
like tattered ribbons across my chest.
Yours are like Christmas,
all wrapped up in bow.
I've never seen a wound
decorated so beautifully.

The jagged edges of rocks
Get smoothened by flowing water
Yet, the broken mental edges
Cannot be soothed by the flowing emotions
Holding on to life, hanging from a precipice
Not aware of the surrounding, but mental agony
Blurry eyes and senses, leaves you forlorn
Donning a black cloak, coalescing with darkness
Oblivion beckons with enthusiasm
To make you a part of the lonely journey
Travelling with a heavy load of denials
Yet, the rebuttal, becomes the only truth

Hidden regions,
secrets held up
in thick walls,
writhing,
scraping,
and finally
pulled out.
A thought flares in emphasis,
at the time when dreams
become reality,
in the deep realm
that holds insanity.
Peering in
is a gift of clarity
long forgotten,
For many
thoughts stay inside,
clenched in a determined grip.
Speak, my friend.
Speak.

The light from a Nordic sun
Casts soft shadows around your haloed skull
Blessed with the voice of God
Speaking through every crack you have let come loose
Your laughter ricochets off of glass screen
Thor's thunder in mortal form  
LED back lights highlighting your face in joyful relief
I am in awe
Across many landscapes our revelry roams
Making bold statements through electric edges
Slinging axe and sword for sport
Yet you gentle at a warm touch
Curling possessively around those you love
A protector unknown but always on watch
Your rough hands glide over plastic satin buttons
ahhh... such sweet music they make
Lulling me into a lassitude of comfort
Of good humor
Of lust
We are like children in our recess
Bantering from one side to the other with gauntlets thrown
Pick it up!
Gladly...then up the bar and throw it back down
Will it always be like this?
"I don't know"

I plan on sticking around to find out