The cold
shivered shoulder
of a girl
mocha-skinned
who promised you the world,
but when you couldn't keep up,
she gave up.

All the dreams
of this being true,
that you swore never would be,
are broken picture frames
in the mirror-mask of my heart.

If I could hold you a thousand times
it'd never be enough
If I could kiss you a thousand times
it'd never be enough
If I could love you a thousand times
it'd never be enough
But if you could hold me
just once
and never let me go
it just might be enough.

your tears
don't affect me
anymore.

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

And let everyone you meet in the future
know that you deserve to be
#foreveralone
because if you pick someone in the future
and they fail in any way
you will be quick
to jump to a different
****.

... save me.

To think
you'd hurt me
worse than the one
you healed me from.

I'm worse off than when
I met you. How
does that feel?

Your hair
tangles
hands
across hips
the color red
your familiar
alien scent
as stars dance
in your dilating eyes.

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've seen a sun rise
sense-shocking
but it is an empty gourd
next to the
light
I see in you.

Silk
wrists-ties
still cut when
pulled tight enough.

Chest heaving
into your arched back
cheeks pulled wide
your *** shines red.

Your body will never speak
the same language.

No one will ever be the tongue
of you at my root
drenching up
to the tip.

An act of supplication
and worship
that has left me
an atheist.

It has been
festering
for years.

I wear a tie around my neck
and Testoni's over my socks
but underneath
my feet
are covered in pitch
throat is raspy
from too much ******
and cigarettes.

Walking into service
some splash water
from a golden bowl
onto their faces;
others snub
their cigarettes
out in it.

A monk teaches
that breathing
is the key to life;
he dies from
emphyzema
as Shaolin franchises
spring up across the globe
selling soap
at golf resorts.

Your body becomes
flowing water beneath
my hands. I mold you,
clay. You are so
tight.

Stretching you, bare,
we search for lips,
meet, starving
worshipers who
sacrifice themselves
on the temple
of the other.

Hand on your ***
I've made a meal of you.
****** four ways
you pull your legs
as far apart as you can,
begging for breeding,
and my heavy load of seed,
explodes against your ******

And we are home.

Empty me out
blood,
to the floor.

Open my veins,
hung from the door.

What the **** else do you
want me to say about it?

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

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

The world crumbles
as my feet lose footing
as my eyes stare, crying
as my heart stops, dissolving
as my soul becomes emptiness
as my hardest attempts to
hold on
are met with
nothing.

My gutters leak blood
a menstruating pregnant woman.
Golden homicidal mothers
glance down from the entrance
of a Khmer city.

Typillian city we burn down every few decades
and build again.
Abandonded Anasazi
pueblos.
I can’t understand
you
I am a cryptologist failing to decipher
ancient Harappan.

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.

That
I hope
you're sad

that you get that special kit out

that you look puffy-eyed from crying

that this poem ****** you the *******.

I just don't have
time enough
to suffer love
that's been poisoned
for years.

One: 24 hour denial
Two: Tears
Three: Try to stuff it down
Four: Fail
Five: Tears
Six: Completely breakdown
Seven: Go to hospital because you wish it were you
Eight: Destroy all semblance of normal
Nine: Tears, fear
Ten: She makes you realize the sky has fallen in
Eleven: You realize again, a star explodes, you hadn't seen the light
Twelve: Love

It's funny how quickly
people disrespect you,  
when you start realizing
your worth.

Seriously,
I want to know.

Consumed consummation,
rotating indecision.
Feral and harrowed
and narrowed precision.

(You've seen this movie before)

My stomach is full
dessicated butterfly bodies,
drowned in the acid
of my stomach.

(It's always the same story)

I will gargle glistening aspic,
purge until I bleed out.
But the only way I'm leaving
is with you, beyond all doubt.

(...what if this time's different?)

Your body
is a temple
I'd crawl to,
****** knees.

Wash hands in the holy water
of your eyes
kneel at the altar
of your thighs
confess my sins
to your mouth.

I have a box of tools,
useless,
and debris.
Pistol-pin,
rifle-lock,
shorn and ****** knees.

I lay here only
motionless
in a flood.
Turn me over,
face to Sun,
mercurial soul of blood.

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

1 Tbsp. disbelief
1 cup shredded heart
2 Tbsp. self hate
1 whole core life memory, shredded
2 minced cloves, bitter
2 teaspoons of copy-cat extract

Mix into a leather loop.

Put your neck in,
pantomime.
Almost wish
that clip
stuck.

How can I be loved
When it pushed all love away
How can I be good
When it pushed all goodness away
How can I be alive
When it pushed my life away?

Veins in leaves
Air on my face
My love for you

My heart is turning in knots
and I never was
a Boy Scout
a knot master
and the thinnest ice
is crisp like
this year's
death.

Sun fades into the clock
as calendar days
are stricken off one by one.

And all my dreams are memories.
And all my hopes rewind.
And all the listless days she's had
begin to multiply.

Just, endless
in my sleep.
Show me the way
to finally find peace.

Like a stranger you appear
the places you left in
my construction paper-heart
now finding ways to divide schismically.

There are parts,
some better,
filling in your
silhouette.

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

A way to sing the praise
of rotting memories
without the tears
without the years
without the tears
without the years

...

you could come
if you choose.

You were
my time machine.
With you,
I could see a future.

Even in all this difficulty
I still defended
a woman
who didn't exist.

you
Disgust
me.

The ring
that you nearly
forced upon my finger

has now come off
for the first
and last
time.

I dreamt us.
I am a lonely man
that thought he had eternity,
and woke,
to find an empty bed.

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

The hold music is especially poignant today
and my heart is hurting
as I wash the last dish you ever used,
feeling the last warm water that involves you,
with my fingers wrinkling up one last time
as I commit this morning ritual,
again,
with no one to celebrate it with.

"It's funny how
a mid life crisis
will make you
start to believe
in God."

I would be seeking
some sort of forgiveness too,
if I were you.

It's a cold and lonely world
when the only person
you can talk to
is paid to do so
once every ten days or so.

When no one wants details,
and friends respond only with emojis
the cold of Winter
snaps especially deep.

If the world
is ending
then why not
end it all?

The only thing
harder than my pain
is how I press the letters
writing messages
to you that
I will delete,
unsent.

I see pictures of you
and recoil
in shock
at the sight
of the face
of the girl
you destroyed
(she wasn't real,
she drowned herself
inside of you).

I got a haircut
had a great day
I was ready to share
with you,
my partner.

But you were too busy
telling me
you ******
someone else.