I write a story when I don't even know how it ends.


It was a beautiful home, a white picket fence,
two children, 9 and 5, play on the porch.

The sun shines through peeping through the window pane.
While Father sits baking an  apple pie in a well-worn kitchen.
The neighbor boy comes a knockin wanting to play too.
Oh what a scene, what a peace, what a LIFE.

Mother rests in her room and cries and wilts and ******* dies
Why?

The child looks up to the window, wavers and falls.
Behind him sits the moon, and reality wanes.
Father gone, mother too.
Alone again crumbled to dust.
Why?

I do not know.
Do you?

I wore the shell of a cockroach.
Donned over my shoulders, I became king.
A wonderful life, Lord of all that is.
Close your eyes and envision a field.
It is dotted with speckles of wheat and cat-tails.
In the distance you spy a single tree stretched tall.
Beneath it under the shade,
won't you sit for a spell with me?

Let the wax of the day melt away.
My child we can be free, sitting still.
Then slash at our wrists
let the blood drain and stain the earth.
We will be white, cold husks,
our sins forgotten, washed away,
our corpses baked by the morning sun.

Etch the scars into the palm of my hand.
In a crowded room, your opinion shines.
Mold your mutters before the night grows dim.

Can you hear me now?
Are we alone?

Do not forget your name dear Severus.
Your words ring true as the clock strikes midnight.
For he may not be I, but I am him.

Can you hear me now?
Are we alone?

Come now, ring the bell, softly take my hand.
Start again, march in line, **** your idols.
Stain the cement with their sin and rejoice.

Look up at the branches of the surrounding trees.
Hold them in your hand, hold them in your gaze.
Whisper words of worried woe, and take a leap.
This is the end, this is the beginning. So it goes.
Speak my name, look down, and swallow my soul.
If it's true, then perhaps I will get to survive you.
Thank you, I'll say goodbye at the end of the world.

I taste a touch of sand within the wind.
Its grit lying against my brittle skin.
A dusted void enriching from within.

I can touch the future, you can hold the past.
The serpent idly pressed upon our beating hearts.
I whisper your name, inside this hall of mirrors.

Entropy's release, I take a breath of the sea.
The sunrise on the cusp of callous disbelief.
And in that moment, the snuffed ember grows dim.

Look deep in her eyes with your paper mask.
Take a look at the life that fades away.
Burn the bridges, pour the oak in the stream.
Allow the melancholy dissonance.
Wake up long enough to have a breakdown.
Nothing but paltry scraps of peace remains.
You want to wake up, you want to escape.
But friend, it is neither your time or hers.
So, sink lower. submerge beneath the waves.
Regardless of your choice, you bathe in blood.
Tears, salted yet sweet released to the depths.

You look up again, the eyes, they are gone.
Pinpricks remain, lost among countless stars.
Desperately you ravage your surroundings.
Filled with resentment, hatred boils over.
Why are they gone? why must it end this way?
And you descend and touch the ocean's floor.
It's not time, surely it's an illusion.
Perhaps sobriety holds clarity.
Perhaps you run, perhaps you'll find your home.

Please, let's just go back to being kids
before whatever it was that this thing is.

The moments where you shivered in the night
And I held you softly within my arms.

Turn back the clocks, and re-enter the light.
You and I: friends, lovers, strangers, soulmates.

The title is meaningless, we are built to last.
So take my hand, and leap into the past.

I can feel your weary muscles beneath my skin.
I can taste your everlasting heartbeat.
Wrapped up with a bow amongst my sin.
Your mother would be proud.
Your father would offer a Cheshire's grin.

Alone, written with charcoal and sweat.
Glance into a foil-wrapped mind.
I know it, your eyes grow wet.
You slice voraciously into your flesh.
We shall find the root, until you forget.

I want to pet the rabbits George.
I want to hold them in my arms.
I want to feel the warmth inside.
I want to feel their love in turn.

Six years survived, six years solace.
Six mistakes made by the sunset.
Sixteen years spent. Six siblings by my side.
So it goes, so it goes.

The scarecrow sits marking on his ledger.
The grass is pockmarked by his grease-filled tear.
He recalls a moment of time long gone.

How can one hold the fragment of a nightmare so bleak?
Why must we cycle onward and spiral down?
I thought myself incapable of love.
I thought myself incapable of joy.
Please just wipe our sins clean.
I beg for just one more day, one more minute.
A single moment where I can say
I am yours, and you are mine.

Stand your ground, throw revolution to the wind.
From pit to peak we stand our hands entwined.
Black and blue feathers falling from the sky.
Our mothers and sons crying, "This is mine."
Wearing our crowns, thorns cast idly behind.
Blast the streets, show your intent, stomp your feet.

We all once hid a smile beneath our eyes.
Yet looking around, all I spy are scars.
From the pockmarked faces of beggars at my feet
to the curated sculpt of suits storming down the streets.
One common thread remains in the young and in the old.
They surface only pain, and burn it in the cold.
But why would a child offer such a distant stare?
I cannot understand, what demons must he hide?
If all good men are wicked, then perhaps I'm better blind.
It offers a dull anxiety, a decay of all that's good.
My candle wax is dripping, my clock has come unwound.
But still I shuffle on, still I wander past the veil of gloom .
I hold these moments dearly, let them imprint in my mind.
Despite the pain, despite the doom, one thing holds true.
I have my love, I have my life, and that will see me through.

Show a dove your hat trick’s hand-shake.
Wrap your qualms tightly with a bow.
Pierce the heart with your lover’s stake.
Eternally put on the show.

Whisper to your hard heart’s content.
Love the mother, and love yourself.
Take a dip, embrace the warm scent.
Enjoy, evolve, enchant, love itself.

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.