Where will it end
when my hands bleed
my knuckles cry
my teeth grit from their
sandstone edge
when the world halts
when the moon
does not rise
when I stare
into the burning mercy
of the sun until
I cannot see the
horror of myself
when the books have
no more letters
and pages to fill
when I am content

in my dreams perhaps

when I am content
and do not think
about the
burgeoning
suffocating
all taking
all giving
all consuming
blood on my hands
blood in my eyes
blood as hair
red as rubies
burning that
burns me from
the inside
like I was

born the burn.

When will it end
this quest
this adventure
of the soul
sword out to
protect my most
precious mistakes
little gems
of dangerous
and sacrificial
memories
when she has
hurt me
beyond repair
bones lying limb
and curved
like loose
spaghetti strings
blood is
back in business
is art
and is movie
and blood
my ******
conscience
always seems

to forgive her.

When will it end

when I have left

when she has left

when
my
b
o
d
y
has
left
me.

Reality burns
worse than matches
lit alight
embers in the night
bon fires
born for the burn
that rubs friction
down
my skin
and I
try to escape
the burning chain.

Pain
in the chest
a symptom
they say
I choose heartbreak
its
a
lie
but it sounds
like
a movie
and
its a movie.

Real lives don't taste like drama.

Real lives don't have a taste.

Bitterness
like coffee
I've never
drunk it
so this
isn't real.

The main stream
is a
river of
confusing fish
and I
don't
eat fish.

That's a lie.

This is
my book
to write
so I
choose
to write
nonsense.

Its a movie.
Not a book.
And there's
no ending yet.

I've considered ending.

Its a movie
its fine
just a movie
its fine
bitter movie
just fine
that's okay
just a movie.

My movie
is one
people choose
to ignore
until the
credits roll
and they
can act
like they
liked it.

I am in love,
I say
as if
I know what that means.

Shame spits
on
my cheek
and I
let it.

I let
the door
open
for the monsters
and
now I
am sad that
they came.

Its
a crap
party.

Do not look back he said,
into the starbursts of your lover's eyes
into the dark pits of what you left behind
into the burning sun that traces your tiny figure
into the drowning need that will wrap you home
into the drowning need that will suffocate you home
into the drowning need that will take you home.

Do not go home he said,
where the windows whine
the doors creak in warning
the footsteps echo like gunshots
the gunshots echo like footsteps
her words echo like gunshots
the gunshots do not echo.

Do not hold me he said,
like he was ghostly
pale as the moon
face pulled taught like a rubber band
eyes dark with warning.

Do not hold me he said,
for he feared the arms would choke him
the arms would pull at his hair until
he was
falling
into the arms
and he cannot handle the warmth
the buzz of conflict
the fight in their veins
knuckled up fighting fists.

Do not let her he said,
as if he could say that
as if she had not hurt him too
as if he was real.

Do not look back he said,
as if I had left at all
as if someone was telling me to leave

as if he knew.

I mourn the moon,
always high in the sky
hung like lights
forgotten so soon
stared from afar
red dripped acrylic traced in its outline
taught in schools
quoted in poems and literature
metaphorically stunted
admired and painted
but never understood.

I mourn the moon,
for those who see
do not gaze with no judgement
do always ask for more
do never look close enough
do not befriend the moon
only stare as if
it were
not truly
there.

I mourn the moon,
the crescent moon
that all see broken
as part of a whole
splintered off
separate and incomplete
never stopping
never pausing
to question
if the moon
in shadow
simply likes the
dark.

I mourn the moon,
the beauty
that even I
do not befriend
the mooning orb
that never comes close enough
hanging just off
titled away
axis parched and pursed
afraid to come close
be scorned for
the light.

treading water.

Limbs stretched out
hopes of sunshine.

Mouth turned to the sun
open wide
flooding
air in lungs

swim for hours.

time does not bother me
as it
pounds
against my skull.

lie back and float into dreams
dry and safe.

I made it
another badge
to add
to my
collection.

the water churns
in a storm

paddle
arms swinging
legs pounding
at the brutal sea.

beg for land
beg for rest.

sea keeps churning
the sea knows no
patience or
mercy.

I am afraid
to close my eyes
to swim
to fall.

to sink into the ocean
and drown in my sleep.

half of me wants to die
the larger half is begging
for land.

people throw their floats

They hit hard
some don't catch
some float away.

the ones that I hold
ease my weight
lift me to the sea.

Sleeping feels safer
with floats
and pillows
no pounding heart to keep me.

it feels like there is someone there.

Swimming alone
on the grand ocean
outside my vision.

I have swum for so long
I never investigate the human sobs
guilt churns in my stomach.

I do not want to see them drown.

I am scared
they will
pull me
down.

Guilt bites
at
my wrist.

I keep treading water
my own small pocket of darkness.

Waiting for the sun to set.

Perhaps it is fated,
has it not always seemed so,
that I would be here
you be there
and the trees continue on their terrible voyuerism.

Perhaps it was always meant to be,
the smothered doubt we carry,
the sights we set to see,
but never seem to absorb,
like oil cruising on water.

Perhaps I have it wrong,
this song of mine which plays like a record,
and the record is not broken,
but I play it anyway,
over and over until the taste hangs heavy on my tongue.

Words grow stale like bread,
it doesn't take long.

Perhaps I have been walking in a way that is not walking,
skipping past the important parts,
jumping over the things that matter,
standing still in the dark puddles of my youth,
staring at you from afar.

Perhaps I truly am the villain of this movie,
deluded to think I have a semblance of good,
only to be consumed by the knowledge,
lies,
that I am the toxic entity that has ruined this life of mine.