forgive me for the sins
i did not make.
let me repent
for some other souls sake.

The plan was plain.
Me the bait, and you'd take aim.
I doubt there was hatred
when you shot him dead
cause even the worst emotions can't pass
a bullet to the head.
Bam!
Ivory concave called a face, split
revealing drenched red teeth-all due
to some petty thief.
Darkness dazzled briefly
as the the muzzle embers burnt out neatly.
That was that, to you. A crime
No more, till we saw the carcass slump to the floor. In our minds, dreams-years to come.
But a trigger pulled can never be undone.
The haunting ain't the issue, don't worry.
But here's the thing.
The barrel of a gun is one big ring.
A cycle of death- cruel merry go round.
But we're both still waiting
waiting for that sound.
Bam!

to hold you between the gaps
of my fingers
escaping the love songs
from my throat
that I didn't know were there
till you told me it was time to go.
then the drum starts
its beat behind our eyes
our lacking tongues
that fail to formulate
this feeling
which is slowly escaping
my grasping hands.

Maybe a love poem for you's
too cliché.
(but I'll still do one anyway.)
Cause even though you hate it-
we both know you'll admit
(That maybe this ain't so bad)

all routes lead to the homes made in passing.

i am unable to recreate your smile.

all peaks have views wishing to be seen.

you do not want to be looked for.

                 *I will live a half-life

we measured the time
by what infatuation took us
that year.
Year 7 was flittering
8 was unfounded
9 was groundbreaking but
10 was changing
Year 11’s love might still be reigning.

you never forget those 5 years.
even if you'd like too.

i broke the bed
that wasn't made
for me
and you tell me how funny
a story it will be
for others to laugh at
to laugh at the loving me.

beat into me until i'm broken and the feelings
alight the layer of skin just below the outermost,
like the lining of a jacket, catching aflame.

scratch out the remaining worries with the spines of your teeth.
rake me upwards, shred the doubts like old sunburn peel, and peel and peel the layers of mistrust off of me till i'm raw, pink and ready.

never has this body not been scarred
without first feeling excitement.

since you pierced it, now you're responsible. I'll chase that ownership, mutually owed, to the end of all meaning. till the sensations are the only bits that still make sense, and then you can make up for everything else.

only after this, after everything else is spread across a blood splattered floor, can things start again. only once you make up for not returning the parts of me. only once my remaining organs, now calcified, have been cracked to their inner ichor, and you tip me gently into your thankless lungs.

only once the prostration, the words left since butchered into me, have been flayed by your regret, and raised to the height of saints.

hang me up.
swing by my legs and wrap around the root of me like you once would.
debase yourself inside of me again, learn to build something again. dig deeper than needed again, strike copper in my veins so I can oxidise again. watch me alight again, at your briefest touch.

in a savoury dream;
we'd of been together.

in a sweeter dream;
we'd of been forever.

but in this bitter reality
were we meant to sever?

i will lay kisses
upon your chest
to understand what it means
to speak from the heart.

(please never stop beating.)

Never ending days
vs
Never ending nights
pose an interesting quandary;

Would you rather:
See
or
Dream

Eternally?

The Sun tells nothing but the truth.
Rays, unabashedly reveal and revel
in their (apparent) straight simple beams.
Basking and baking any unlucky-lucky soul,
Caught in the radiating pathway.

With a touch that grants,
bronzing berift of bruising.
In reality grants us sight
Welcomed by all but few,

And my word.         What a view.

saw             a                smile
caught on the c h a n n e l s
of the WiFi
like      w a v e s                    goodbye

it seems that all Love is,
is finding the snippets of those who once
we adored
in the bodies of strangers and hoping
this time it will be reciprocated.

i found myself
at 3am.
            He was not the same person
            as before.

**and I wonder if that's a loss or a gain.

i am envious of your
ability to not hear the hope
in my words
and
jealous
of the resolve in your disdain.

i could never feel nothing.
but sometimes wish i would.

After you stumbled down
not so many steps
Tongue searching for the words,
to chain me to its depths.
I won't lie.                          I saw (no. you knew.) where this was heading.

Before your lazy lounging around
and lackluster laugh
finally losing its lustre.
Truly your falseness was found.

Now your distant happiness
heralding our own end.
No longer seeking your "loving" caress
not willing to pretend.
  
                                                   That we were (in fact) meant for more.

Is this what love is?
Red marks and lines,
puncture points, hands never being held.

Is this what love is?
21:00 chuck out time sitting with Dusk on welcome mats
ringing a doorbell unsure if it's heard
or just ignored

Is this what love is?
Mirrors are mouths, speaking after-images into words
This isn't what love is.
or perhaps this love was made just for me
*Alone.

We agreed, did we not?
On the way we'd love.
Till we got caught
when your heart became tough.
Hammer came down with a thud.
Crystal future to mud.

Take me home, it's too painful
lull me to sleep- is this what we came too?
Still you promised me.
Guess all love leaves eventually.

Fear not; The thought of loveless life.
For even the Moon is kissed by the Sun.

6am mornings
With little to truly say,
so let's lie here waiting
For the sun to slip away.

I am..... Was...
Something, something, someone.
So many names, places and so many faces
so many. So many....
Seeking
I am.... Was....
Seeking peace, my peace,
your peace, our peace.
Please.
I lost you. Didn't I?                                                  (Didn't I?)

But why do we find our hearts
in the palms of others?
in the cracks of the paint.
in the makeup.
in the books.

it's always somewhere unexpected.
like venom you take with honey.

filled with sweetness,


with satisfaction. *Are you satisfied?

so in my spare time
after a days studying
i stand on the pulpit
and talk to an empty room
shouting into the corners all the words i have written for people
who are not listening

like therapy i record these speeches
and play them back to remind me of the flow
of words
that could fill chalkboards whiteboards and lecture notebooks
but carry no weight

sometimes pray that the room is being captured
so someone can tell me to go
or perhaps the security guard finds some satisfaction
in seeing a heart unable to say no

You were Sheet music.
or Braille.
or Latin.
Indecipherable surface level:
Tension, felt through the page.
Slowly the notes unwound,
then
bumps in the story smoothed out,
leading
to me finally understanding what tense we were in.

And i would Relearn all of You;
in a Heartbeat.

Such a shame
"I love you" Can't contain,
the true extent
of these false
feelings.

time can lighten the crushing loss of another.

When I was younger, through many nights I felt my dreams
turn to premonitions.
When I was younger, through the days I felt my actions
turn to decisions.
But now I deign to lay my head.
For no longer are my dreams, dreams-
But you instead.

And who knows what I'll prophet,
without the Suns rays to stop it.