How quickly
"I don't know if I can do this anymore..."
became
"I ****** a strange man
just to feel desire."

Well **** your desire.

You made a vow,
and we should work
on our issues
before you go
and take a trip
six inches at a time
into our destruction.

Why won't this
volume go up
anymore.

To think
I felt guilty
playing video games
while you were
*******
another man.

And to think
I've felt GUILTY
looking at ****
since our issues started,
the whole time
you were ACTUALLY
******* someone else.

It's funny,
you know
that this relationship
that seemed about
teaching me to trust again,
has only turned me
into a Mysoginist.

"I'm not making it, I need help"

"I'm not okay, I need you."

"I need a hug and empathetic embrace."

"I love you, and now I need your love."

"Help."

You pulled
so far away
but I
kept the faith.

Little did I know
you were commiting crimes
against my heart.

And now
the faith
isn't
so
easy.

I'm on my third jar
and I never drink
more than two
but now this pistol
looks lovingly at me
more than you do.

I was hurt
and trustless
from my divorce
and you
convinced me
I could trust
and love
again.

Then you
waited
ten years
and
****** someone else.

I had you
in my bed
provided comfort
and safety to you
but you were *****
already
just too afraid
to admit
to your filthy ways.

Is that
in the end
you're just like
the rest of them.

All
I
ever
wanted
was
you.

Have you listened to that song
and felt bad for yourself?

You ******* idiot.

The brilliant memory
of the sea side
and your silhouette
so loved
it became my phone background in 2018
and hasn't changed since.

My ******* background
is simple black now
just like
my future prospects.

She beats you to hell,
for months,
then says she doesn't deserve
to take one beating.

It's hard to fix,
when she's taking
strange *****.

The ring
that you nearly
forced upon my finger

has now come off
for the first
and last
time.

Our purity
such golden value,
and you can say I'm worthy
but I am,
in your eyes,
absolutely
worth less.

Sometimes I want to die
and life can't change my mind.

For a decade,
I put drops in
your child-like ears,
always getting infected
and agitated,
just like a toddler.

An act of service.
An act of love.
An act of commitment.
An act of desire.

An irresistible desire
to show you love.

And now,
here I am,
without you,
feeling like a child
with no one
to put them in
my own ears
but me.

I turn,
the trap tray,
in my hand,
other
on the light switch.

Deep sigh

...

thesoundofmyownbreath

...

an empty place

...

move on with your night

comfort shows
itself
in
comfort shows
on Hulu.

What would it be like
to die on the vine?
"You spin and you drown
searching for a rhyme."

I want you to know that
your fears are warranted
but we will face them
together.

Suddenly death blooms
the old is gone
and we can be born
again.

All at once
life peels away
like safety scissors
through fresh
orange colored
construction paper.

Fully bloomed indigo billowing cloud
A silver-lining's touch of grey

Oh,
what a sweet rapture
it must be
to never feel
the sting
of love.

I
am
nothing
like
my
dad.

"You're so lonely..."

So come home.

"All you ever wanted
was a stable family."

So, come home.

It's so quiet.
The kind of
quiet
that
kills.

Not a familiar heart
for hundreds of miles.

And my heart
runs up and down
the aisles of you

searching...
searching...

out on the lost highways
of our path
into the unknown.

I'm still
just a little
boy
wondering,
"What happened?"

When you can't
carry the weight
how much
can whiskey hold?

My brilliant past
has constricted down
from a vibrant family life
full of
love
smiles
hugs
support
memories
unconditional

down to a bare leftover remnant
of all that was.

And my tears over this
and my cries of

"I want my family back!"

into the black

mean nothing
miles away
from what doesn't even exist
anymore.

What do you do
when the person
who is
your heart,
dies?

How do you love the right way?
How do you trust the right way?
How do you accept the right way?
How do you?

How
do
you?

The Pull of Death
has many names:

Jim
Dad
Woody
Papa
Randy
Arkeem
Noni
Lexi
Tim

"How do you carry
the weight
of memories?"
I asked.

She looked at me,
tears filling her eyes.

The cup
I have filled
with you,
is pouring out
leaving me
dry
and
dead.

Broken images
flash through the mind.

All the joy and togetherness
of family
gone.

When you live in a kaleidoscope
the loss of colour to life
leaves more emptiness
in its absence.

And your tears
are useless platitudes
to the thought
of ever having it back.

And her love
has become
the very thing
you always feared
it would.

And this broken family
has broken again.

Who would ever see
beyond my flaws
and still want me forever
despite them?

His eyes became wells
overflowing
buckets of regret
drawn from the emptiness
that crawls up his walls.

The colors run
passionate
cotton candy
water colors.

I hold out loud
conversations
with the ghost of you
in my bed.

I must be quiet
quiet, still
but doing so
will only show
shadows on the fourth wall.

What a cool waking to life again
edging towards the green
euphoria seeps in the mind
as the cold of Winter leaves.

From the dead
and from the gray
roots of love
find a way.

I still turn to talk to you
I still expect your smile
I still hold on to your soul
I still see the rest of my life
in you.

And so...

I'm still fighting.

She changed
and gave up on me
until I
gave up on us.

He was a
robot
who dreamt
it was a real boy.

Just before bed
I turn out all the lights
and for a few moments
I am bathed in darkness.

In the moment before
I turn the bedside light on
I imagine you'll be there
In bed
smiling,
in love,
when the light comes on.

But you never are.

And this nightmare-come-true,
tallies on another day.

"I can't live with
or without you."
Well then,
all things being equal,
why wouldn't you pick
saving us
over ending us?

And the wind is yelling
through the absent leaves
and like a child
I am afraid
and you are not here.

Could you find me
if I were hidden in plain sight
unscented and delivered
on a platter you guilded in silver
that my hands went numb
polishing for you?

The apologies dissolve
as the crumbling blocks
disintegrate in whole
equating into nothing
but my cracking heart.

When the world
falls apart around you
remember breakfast
is the most important meal.

Here I was,
writing
the beauty of you
the beauty of us.

The unwritten holocaust
redacting facts
written in
my mind
written on
my heart.