The heat from the furnace
cannot replace
the warmth
of you

and I'm freezing
in your absence.

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.

It was a blurred mirror
on that Sunday morning,
the wall, black
stretching above there is nothing
but shattering little words
that fell
into his sleep.

You say you've
given
all the love you
have.

Every
last
bit.

And
Love contracts
Love cools
Love dies

But
Love relives
Love warms
Love grows

Love finds the way
like a grass blade
from concrete.

There's a Greyhound destination
stolen from the eerie
little pieces of falsetto voice carrying me
through the end of times like
Revelation could make you wet,
I'll make you ***,
split between what should be
and
what was done.

I feel like you are the only real thing I've had.
I feel you in my heart.
I think about your taste, your scent.
I think about you.

I think of you as a child to me.
I think about you all the time.
I think about my seed pumping into you, your *** up, my feet planted forward
(you know the position)
I think about you.

I think about your smile.
I think about that giggle.
I think about your eyes rolling back as you ***.
I think about you.
I think about you.
I think about you.

My favourite pet daydream,
(her combustion creates me)
that I eagerly await
to set fire to flames.

I am only three thrusts away
enjoying the girl,
oh her little bones,
sweet somber hair
as my pants
become tighter.

I watch you brushing teeth,
foam on your lips,
as my crippled spider
legs sway forward on
towards your tender little ***
hole like a cherry,
hidden within the cleft of a peach,
sweet, then a flash of violence
towards your haunches, hips, shanks.

Older women are sweet like saccharine,
but you are pure cane,
****** peppermint
cinnamon disks,
which drip
the same as crushed
maraschino cherries.

Distanced distractions
now too close
arrange my Catopaxi,
inverse flow
the molten snow
from every crevasse
to the waiting sea.

Wouldn't it be easier
if life
made more sense
than that
last line?

I cycle,
as little as possible
much more than I'd like
thinking of you
feeling you
wrecking myself
wishing this life would end
wishing this feeling would never end
alarming myself
at how fast
I cycle.

I was your first,
but more importantly,
I want to be your last.

Passing out at pulpit
never assuaging
signal lines fraying
straying lights praying
playing heights failing

Corona solitude
ember has a magnitude
un-burden your burden
fail the feathers: fire, ice, leaf.

Is this a dream,
or am I just remembering
a trinity?
Is it minus one?

If I've coagulated,
then the emptiness lost
is a cancer I will remove.

"Dasehra, make these shackles go away. Dasehra, as long as I am injured. Dasehra, as long as I remember." ~ Cedric Bixler-Zavala

This is dedicated
to the dead words
deleted.

And I remember fantasizing about your
Death
My hands wringing out your delicate
Throat
My weeping member pumping you full of
***

I spread gravel once
flat across a lawn...
wishing it was me.

I made a trash bag-wreath once
white-pure strips of plastic...
wishing it was me.

I looked up at the delicate sky
held in place forever
crying to be fleeting
trapped in existence: eternity.

I heard family ghost stories once
stained branches on family tree...
wishing it was me.

I long to slip
beneath your surface,
but I freeze everything
I touch.

I had enough of emptiness,
the shallow grave I've been digging myself.
Lying to myself all this time
thinking I was digging to China
but only inches down
ready to fall in and expire.

But there is no expiration date
on love.

When you are here,
you light up my world.
And so,
when you're gone,
I keep all the lights on.

The bedroom light on
(I imagine you in there reading)
The bathroom light on
(I imagine you in there grooming)
The living room light on
(I imagine you doing homework)

And still,
my world,
is dim.

Feathers burst forth
seared with sunlight.
The coast is clear,
baby girl,
the waves are breaking
turquiose shores,
and my heart
is aching to consume you.

They said your footprints
were still on the windowsill
when the authorities showed up

I wonder how long my hand prints will remain

as I lean out and see the last thing you ever saw
speed towards you
like that camera trick they use where the background speeds forward
but the person stands still

I feel you in my nose here
all that remains of you is
a scent of yellowed dime-store novel pages
and I can't help but agree
when scientists say that
our sense of smell is the one most closely tied
to our memories.

They always said you had an old soul

but I know better

You lived with the clarity of a newborn's eyes.

She lit his darkened heart with light
the most beautiful he'd ever seen.
She dragged him in like a magnet
pulling black holes from the sky.
She made it impossible to escape
her grasp and be drawn into her.

Then, "one day she stiffened"
and pushed him away
and he fell into that big
black hole.

Stretched into an oblivion of time;
nothing but memories
of a light that once
burned.

He looks at her (his eyes dilate)
and says, "I'd
die
for you."

She frowns into a smile (she wears a mask)
and said, "No, please
live
for me."

And so,
he lived
for her.

And...
    then...
        she...
            left...

And with her
    went his
   reason to
       live.

You've got a little secret, don't you?

The women envious of that ***,
jealous of those eyes,
hating your hips and *******,

the men hungry for that ***,
hypnotized by those eyes,
mouths watering for those hips and *******,

but they know that
you are a good girl
you don't do those terrible things they think
you are innocent, pure, locked up
tight.

But you've got a ***** little secret, don't you?

You walk around with
your skin burning for a touch
your mouth begging for a ****
your ******* longing to be pinched and pulled
your *** eager for a *******
your throat hoping to be choked
**** cheeks burning for a beating
and a warm little wet spot on your *******
all day long.

You've got a secret,
a ***** little secret,
don't you?

Do you know
that you are a light in my world,
that you are the smartest girl in the world,
that you are the sweetest person in the world?
Do you know
that you are the most beautiful person in the world,
that you keep me together,
that without you I'd be completely lost?
Do you know
that I'm not going anywhere,
that I'm all-in,
that I will fight for you,
for us?
Do you know?
Do you now?

I've got so much for you,

(fingers that play twister with yours,

stencils carving your name just above your skin just
barely brushing baby hair around
your navel,

barely breathed words of love,

soft sandpaper stubble to drag out goose fleshed neck nape
as it reaches up to reach my chin,

slightly parted lips grazing yours and then a sudden
gasp of teeth into your skin,

waking wrapped around you in a moment I can make feel
more than a mere instant but like it would never end,

as the sun sneaks its way into the blinds
reflecting soft shadows off of your every angle,
and the power to
take
your
breath
away.)

if you'd only accept it...if you'd only accept it.

The sky rains feathers onto your wrists tied down,
your blind eyes nervous,
excitedly worried in the best way.

I am the gentlest man you could know.

I am the roughest man you could know.

In those little contrasts,
wax paper and lace,
milk and alcohol,
cigarettes and oxygen tanks exploding like your body,
when I devour you.

Your wry smile,
smirk the moisture away
on the back of you hand,
drawn across your lips.

Bring me to my knees,
that I may look you eye-to-eye.

The ocean surface
spills into a sinking vessel
and
     I
        am
       d r   i   f      t       i           n                g

The other day I dove into water...
I swear I heard
your voice
like an echo
stirring in my mind
as I was drowning,

As my heart spent its last breath,
it said your name.

****
****
Me
You
Give
Receive
Dominate
Submit

Vanilla frozen cream
over slices of pink-orange inner flesh,
steam as something cold
is lain upon something hot.

The fluffy-whiteness spreads
the soft-firm peachiness apart, leaks
into the space between, gathers
in a small puddle of thick milkiness,
almost pearlescent.

Rolling-back eyes,
scent of precious fruit,
burning cold bowl
in hand, contents slide down the throat
all at once, swallow.

I am empty
with nothing to fill me.
Empty me out
but nothing to pour into.
Just tip me over,
and out nothing comes.
Drowning and empty,
my scream from the lungs.

A gradient of gravel
rough, coarse,
thins,
and the asphalt cries
tears of tar
where you once parked.

My words,
so full of love and concern
for you

have never felt
so
empty.

Like the generations before
and those loved
and those remembered
I'm joining the club.

I'm not calling to ancestors
I'm joining them
I'm becoming an empty ghost
in an empty tomb
which all of her light
has left.

And I can stare right into that black
it's there anywhere I look around
and just like the song, I'm thinking maybe
six feet ain't so far down.

I could bring the blood
of a thousand sacrifices
spilling entrails
through the fingers
just to hear
you call me
by My name.

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?)

Mija, if I could
I would reverse physics
eliminate the gravity wells that pull
you down.
That leave you starving weeping bleeding
hurting,
crushing you within themselves,
beyond the event horizons
the tragedies in your life have left.

But I am not that strong.
I cannot alter basic
rules
laws
components
of reality.

I cannot save you from the monsters in your head.

I cannot guarantee that you will always be safe.

I cannot say I will always understand.

But I am strong enough
to hold on to you,
beyond the event horizons,
until my fingers
are stretched by warped Time,
and I no longer exist.

But I will fight the monsters in your head,
until I no longer breathe.

But I can guarantee you will always feel safe.

But I can say that I will always listen, and try to understand the
nightmaresandtearsandhurtanddisintegrationofyourchildhood

Because, Mija, I know
that there exists light
beyond the dark break
of your event horizons.

dark musty I am attracted, opposite poles,
a moth to the absence of light,
my mushroom blooms
the deepest shade of azure
awakening here, molding at the spore,
the leafs and paper and rat droppings
echo down the causeway,
the red rusted gutter escape flows into
nothingness behind me, I hate you; so obese,
rotund like a dimorphism of rubenesquery and retardation,
bent beyond shape,
borrowed against ****,
I’ll collect the interest someday, maybe today,
or perhaps we’ll continue on smiling as we have
knowing that I pulled the last vestiges of your humanity,
shorn and weeping,
from your carcass years ago.

You are mine.

There's nothing left
of all that could've been
except my empty shudder
inside this chest,
begging to rot
from the outside in
where lust equals death
where death equals trust
where nothing,
(nothing at all)
keeps me alive
for the nothing that's left.

I've got oiled bearings of lead in my gut,
rolling through my intestines.
My mother's never cried quite enough;
I'll get some more tears out of her.

So cover my head in plastic,
pull that Velcro tight,
swallow down the pills
dissolving on the tongue,
dive off the building.

So long ago, useless digging down.
Will I find you here?
How much more could there be?
Here, I have to pull myself apart:
the only way I can come together.

I want us to survive
the
heavy times
lost times
hurting times
sadness times
empty times
it-feels-like-there's-no-way-out times.

The faded indigo
that bleeds across the page
dampens all the hope
yet I will fight with all the rage.

I want us to survive.
I want us to survive.
I want us to...
I want us...
I want...
I...
I love you.

I asked him how he dealt
with his father-loss
babbling the words out
in all my anxious longing.

"I know, Son,"
his voice came
from across the world
like a Father's always does.

"That tightness
in the chest...
Yes,
I know."

I had never felt closer
to another man.

I had never felt more
like his son.

I had never felt
more understood.

He couldn't understand,
it was so bright one day.
"Never forget, my child," he said
"Every flower fades."

She sits across from you at the group-work table in all her flesh
a coat of giant cold chicken skin
she can't figure how to take off.

A cow chewing cud
would be less offensive than the way she grinds
that gum with mouth, a hole slapping
against itself in fleshy clicks.

She is heavy, whipping cream-
colored thighs each time she slaps a hand down in laughter.

The chest is pouring out in all of it's hypnotic paleness;
the dark colored shirt is giving its all, but failing against the strain.

Your adrenaline courses in nausea
as she moves her legs apart,
veins radiation-blue,
mashed potato inner thighs,
and suddenly
you've peaked behind the curtain
the poison fish you see
makes you *****.

I've lived for the taste of your
flesh, wet with desire
a mess between your legs,
lapped up like a dog
unworthy of worshiping you.

I have prayed at your temple
white cream formed from your lips
engorged
I enter you
and never
again
are my prayers returned.

Yesterday felt like tomorrow
Tomorrow feels like yesterday
And my eyes don't
And my heart isn't
And my mind won't
And I'm not sure if all these sparkling tear drops
keep falling from the thought of it
or if the weight is just to great.
It was all figured out yesterday, but
yesterday felt like tomorrow
tomorrow feels like yesterday
and my eyes don't
and my heart isn't
and my mind can't.

I see your silhouettes standing like
empty ghosts

everywhere I look around this city,
on the static sidewalks,

and like the stars etched into your shoulder blades,
I paint inside your lines
with the colours
of my heart.

I'm curating a list
one final time
Play it through
it'll feel like a crime.

All across your body,
lines written in rainbow thread.

A heart is only
so much weight, wait...why?

Would they dust your body
for the remnants?

What they have found,
is it hesitant?

Engorged like a hibiscus pistil,
covered in pollen
dripping with dew.

This is no request, but an order:
Extend your tongue
til it pulls with a bit of pain from behind your lower teeth,
open up,
and
prepare
to
swallow.