in a Me society
you stand on my broken back
to climb

in a We society
you share roof & blanket
we look at stars, both warm

in a We society
you share knowledge,
story, guitar

for the good
of everyone because
it's not about Me

in a Me society
you are showing off
if you do that

unless you are making money
(can someone explain this
to me?)

everyone though is always free
to be a Me
or a We

and life America
despite what you say
is not a competition

come be
a We
with me

ah, love,
you're a walking tribute to anarchy
and i love to hear you preach -
boxcutter lips wrapping around
the holiest words of blood and viscera,
rage and fear
that clench in the throat like a diamond called from coal.
in the name of the lord you drink the sun
and the burn is familiar,
an old friend
the father of the righteous fire
that drives you to drag down the sky,
or drag up the earth -
anything to approach
empyrean heights:
in your sermons you scale mountains to break into heaven,
dragging your scars
behind you.
you break glass just to prove that nothing lasts.
every manifesto is another gospel
in your holy book,
your promise
that promises mean nothing.
love me like a miscarriage,
hold me like a cancer -
prescribe diamorphine to the world
and watch it choke on numbness.
those who fear pain
deserve to feel nothing at all,
you say,
those who fear pain
deserve to never die.
bestowing the world with
the worst curse you know.
boxcutter lips
ripping words to shreds.
molotov eyes
and paper lungs.
your paper-lantern lungs
shine through your back
and you smother them with cotton to **** the sickly glow.
the sun you swallowed is still pooled in your lungs,
and it shines like a blasphemous joke -
green light in your sick midnight,
a burn to rival your molotov eyes,
your righteous fire.
you live like steel to forget your paper lungs.
brothers, sisters,
have you heard the good news?
you won't be the first to die.
of course not, love,
we can all see the collision course you're on.
walking tribute to anarchy,
you're crafting your own doom.
{oh, but i'll go down with you, love,
i'll carry all your scars for you
and blow out the sun in your lungs -
let me show you, love,
what i can do.
let me show you how sick i can be -
i've a twisted mind and i'd like to prove it,
like to take all your scars upon myself
and burn down heaven
if they won't hear your sermons.
i am your weapon so wield me well.
i am your weapon
and together
we will bring the heretics
low.}
ah, love,
you're a walking tribute to anarchy
and i want to watch you suffocate
when your fire burns the last of the oxygen.
your footsteps are ashes and broken glass
and i follow
close behind.
you scream
and curse
and cry to heaven
and i smother the sun in your lungs.
in your sick midnight sermons,
heaven pulsates like an open wound
and i stitch you up,
keep the gangrene from your gospels.
ah, love,
in your throat
coal turns to diamond.
rage and fear
behind boxcutter lips.

spent all last night cursing his name and
finally yours, when i'd gotten over pounding that
dent in my pillow, it's because
you're blind as a ******* bat and can't you see past that
nose of yours
i question you?
that night you languished in the dim light
of the all-night pizza shop, bragged about
all the cheerleaders you'd like to bang if
they'd actually date you
and i cried laughed watched your eyes
on the cracked red bench of the booth
we sat.

of course, it's because
you turned a clouded eye to me and when
he slammed words on his computer just for me,
i'm a *****, laughable he said, you never
looked and you never saw to stand from your
drunk rat stoop to say
a word for me

spent all last night grinding your
name into my pillow, you didn't know and
never will.

silence can be a beautiful thing
when it blankets the cold
of a kitchen floor;
(there is something lovely
about the lines of your hands
and the peculiar smile that
plays at your lips
when you can not voice
what you need to speak)

you whispered to me
        -it's amazing how much
        you can say
        without words-
in the quiet, i
could not help but tell you
i love you
a thousand times over.

lately i've spent hours a day
crying over you,
but that doesn't mean
you didn't make my life
so absolutely
extraordinary

(and it sure as hell
doesn't mean i'm
over you
yet)

she liked sending her wishes
silently on the roof
of a passing car
cast out from a drifting line.
[she told me she's always believed in the green glass
bottles drifting on the tide]
I called her an oaken darling
something to hold to
[fast we did,
arms on arms and crossgrain]
her wood
tough when bent
She
Screamed
Only
one time.

it's spring again(,) and again
i'm the only thing that's
                                     dying
(this       how    
         is              i
                                 feel-

like
           f
             a  p a r t)
                l                  
                  l
     ­               i
                      n
                        ­g

with every step, i felt myself break
just a little
                  bit
                       more.

i'm sorry i couldn't look back,
i was too afraid of finding you
collecting my pieces
to return them to me;
this time, i want you to keep them.

i'm unraveling just as quickly
as your words,
and here we are
falling
again,
but this time,
not in the
right
way.