The cobweb crusted floorboards creak
as my leg's weight crosses the earthly plane.
I breathe in and shudder, "Yes this will do."
Moonlight teases the rafter's silhouette.
It calls my name, urging me to draw near.
The fibrous snake stirs beneath my jacket,
gently leaping from within its depths.
It twists and curves looking for its new home
before wrapping tightly amongst the wood.
It drops down, and it beckons me to come.
It whispers my name as I grow closer.
It kisses my neck in a warm embrace.
Finally it grows taut and I am slain.
Never again to cause this world my pain.

I wish that I enticed and inspired.
That your life might no longer be mundane.
I wish to see your hand pick up the pen.
Place it on the parchment, whisk me away.
But alas, this fortune I shall not find.
Whispers of the dead-end sparks only remain.
And ever cautiously I sit and stare
at the light that may have once been for me,
at the shadows that now remain in you.

I do not want the cold moon in my hands.
I do not give a **** about the ice
in your veins.

I want rubies pressed taut against my throat.
Gagged by their sheen, looking down the barrel
of your gun.

Do not waste your love on this shattered soul
I am nothing more than a bitter old
pile of flesh.

At my core I am but a sad, strange man.
I should be placed gently in a gutter
left to die.

Liars and thieves save skin for your spirit.
Take my hand and cut at the mottled flesh.
Truly I ponder, yet still I fear it.
The ghoulish imprint of his face left fresh,
burnt brightly, a branded torch on your mind.
I’d utter the names, but it’s so unkind.

A murmur and tremble unlock the lips.
Bloodshot, goosebumped, love warbling on through.
I stab and stab and through the cracks I slip,
******* it all I don’t know what to do.
Scorch the earth, salt the sea, begin anew.
Scars be ******, they belong to me and you.

At the volcano's sill sits a stone.
Etched in its surface is your name.
I take it in my hand, down to the woods.
With a sigh I begin to dig.
Blood flecks my fingertips grinding the dirt.
Yet I continue, deeper still, waist deep now.
With mounds of dirt surrounding me,
my sweat soaked body has reached its goal.
I take the stone, I place it down gently.
It is bathed in mud of my blood and my sweat.
I emerge from the hole, and release my breath.
I take the soil and push it in, burying the stone.
It is compacted with my mud, hidden from the surface.
Nobody shall know it, but there forever it shall sit,
and I will know, and now you will too.

You made a deal.
I made a promise.
Together or apart
that smoke scented taste
ensnares and enchants
my heart and my soul.

I remember my suicide attempt plainly.
A gas mask haphazardly knit in my hand.
The hiss of helium from the tank.
The flicker of light in my father's garage.

I put the mask on my face slowly.
I felt the world begin to fade.
But then suddenly the hose released
and air was all this poor face breathed.

I was so ******* exhausted.
"Ugh suppose I'll wait another day."
Then I went to the hospital.
I took the time.
I healed
and another day never came.