You'd swear that I am
always being punched on the nose
from how much I cry.

If anything, we
Are the words that we never
Pull out of our souls.

The poet knows pain.
The poet though, will make sure
You live forever.

The universe knows
about you; it will soon lay
lilacs on your scars.

She's the one with bliss
Parading all over her
Skin. The march of love.

Maybe I have this dance?
There's suicide in your eyes.
Now I stand no chance.

There was a subtle, but yet aggressive tone,
In her voice.
This woman wanted to run away
And up into the stars.
She wanted simpleness to sweep through her veins.
That's the life blood she needed.
You can't have life without cracking
A few eggs;
Without dying a few times, in this, our only escape from death.
Life.
Life itself is the escape she longed for.
The type of life in which it's OK to lie and die, every morning, and smile over it.
Lie to herself and to her
Universe inside her head.
Oh how it rest there, subtle, yet eerily aware of it all.

Those blue pills have been given to me by those
Angels in stethoscopes.
The dying will stop, so I’m told.
Your soul will be able to hide now.
I smile at the thought of this blackness
Being ripped from my innards.
A hard night of drinking will
Do well enough, now.
I ***** out my soul.

Every few months I am your play thing, my angel,
My savior in your white coat.
Milligrams increase as I stare up at the hazel
Sky. I ***** out my soul once more.

I am your baby, now. I rely on you not for life,
But rather, not to die.
Cradle me, kiss me on the forehead,
Say it will all be alright.

Die, sweetie, die!
Die, your *******!
You venom, seeping through my veins,
Die and come back to life and Die.
This blackness; I need you.

My angel, with his shiny new armor,
Loves me with no remorse.
He’s told me as so.
Let’s put more heaven into you,
He says.

This is love.

This burden is Oceans heavy.
Or does it run away from me from
the sacs that are my eyes?
Deadly cursed fool!
Morality slipped away from me;
The truth of me is not from me.
It is swept under beggars carpets,
easily stepped on but never clean.

Burdens run black in the shadow
of the moon tonight.
Suicide is bouncing off these walls
again.
No.
It's me.

I can see the red blotches on the walls.
I slipped up again.

He doesn't believe in you the same
Way you believe in him.
Those battalions, in his honor,
Spill the blood of a deity.
Half man, all knowing,
He whispers death, death, death.
Those rampant vultures fight
For a fight not needed.
They ****, not for one,
But for those who enjoy
The spectacle that is your death,
My death,
Our death,
His death.

Thinking of you is peace on earth.
You exists in the balance of my heart.

within me and in
The lies I say.
"I wasn't awoken because of her eyes,
Her essence of calmness;
Her."
Ahhh.
I've put you up with the God's now.
They're now your protectors.
Grab my throat and choke sense
Into me.
This is death in the present.

Those butterflies flutter freely in
The meadow,
Each with a piece of you on it.
It's the butterflies I vomited out tonight.

Ah, yes!
My breath is back, you had taken that too.
How may I rest when you roam in the
Distance of my mind and my heart?
Those two winding intersections are
Blocked off now.

Her,
The her that can't,
Won't,
Shouldn't expect love.

It's a suicide of sorts, this love.
It reciprocates death in every
Which way.
Run
Tire tracks over me and love me still.
You are romantic in a time that hides
It so well.
Almost ready to both buy and sell.

Holy hell and her.
Reach down my throat and
Pull yourself out of me.
At this rather mature age,
I cry and this thought:
It will die, this love, and I.

Still, run.
Run to and from my
Needle point confidence of you,
Of myself;
Microscopic love.

My veins flow in spider webs now
No order, just chaos.

I smile and die.
I smile and die.
This is love.

Play with my brittle spine on this
June and sultry
night.
Ruin me and ******* hate for you.
The rapture is coming, but only tonight.
Cross your eyes and see yourself from yourself.
Run away child! Whisper in deaths rustic ear:
I am here. I am here. I am here.
Freet of the all black piano keys. Disallusion
has run rampant tonight.
Look at the half bleeding moon.
Oh how it sends shivers down my weak spine.
The fields are full of grace on this red and black night.
Chances mingle best with lust. One without the other is
me without you.
I blame you not for how I am now.
I was like this long before the moon shone a light
and peasants knew what real plight was like.
You were my rapture, and it came at night.
Whisper into deaths rustic ear:
I am ready to die tonight,
but only under the moonlight.
Only tonight.

I am not the self described squabbles in my head.
I am not the sorrowful truths left unsaid.
I am not a fetching dandelion, unable to run.
I am not all the inflections at the end of your tongue.
I am not your precious suicide notes.
I am not secure in your idea of hope.

I am, however, worthy of this life.
If I thought any other way, I will only deny, deny, deny.

I am denial.
I am pompous.
I am worthy.
I am Light.

I better remember your kiss
Than the taste itself.
Perhaps it was purple velvet:
It was a death worth dying for.
I better feel your hands that
Must have just returned from a trip
To the north pole:
It was bright red.
I better smell the sulfur from
My wounded heart.
You've must have just returned
From those pits.

None of this is fair though.
I made you, without permission,
My warrior with Greek blood.
You were my Achilles.
This way and that.
You were all and null.

I better write you a midnight sonnet.
It will survive where our love didn't;
With honesty.

I can only die with the darkness.
Of course there will be a mess.
You speak my name and I break apart,
like a poorly, worn down piece of art.
There is no peace in this soliloquy;
at least not tonight.

I can only die in your darkness.
It's the only one I know.
Your kisses are now merely blackness;
I once had a youthful soul.
There was never peace in this soliloquy,
at least not that I know.

Rabbid mouthed youth, you stung me at such a young age.
They call you cupid, but I know what I see.
A trickster, hiding your cloven feet.

You've killed me once before, when I had graze.
The time has come for you to feel the *****;
your crime.
Falling in love isn't falling at all.
It's a black hole where even the light cannot escape it.

I step on the corpses of your victims tonight.
I can smell their rotting hearts, from left to right.

It's time for me to join them, I have to go.
I can only die in my darkness,
and this is the way it must go.

I leave behind a lesson.
I hope you live a life unlike mine.
Love dies and it will **** you,
but please, don't give up hope.

Besides,
No one knows where that light really ends up.
(Maybe the eyes of lovers new.)
Who really knows.

I can't get your eyes off my skin.
It's my new tattoo; your tongue.
I can't escape from my best sins.
Your skin is my new warden.
Yes, ma'am
No, ma'am.

I had thought these days
Were over now.
I buries you under my coffin,
In the Arizona night.

No.

These days of love are back;
I'm dying all over again.
Holy hell.
I'm dying I'm all over again.

Now, now, child; the stars will
Take care of you.

Rhyming words feels forced tonight,
Like my hatred for you.
I spin miracles with my black pen.
All that's left are tears streaming from
Face to paper.
Static thoughts pierce my mind tonight,
And I cry.
I can't quite write tonight.
There are words, but only the ghost
Of them.
I thought I had buried them looking ago.

I drink out of the bottle,
Desperately,
Like a baby does in its blissful youth.
The tools are ready, but the craftsman is off,
Broken perhaps.
I try again, but all that's left is my trembling right hand, and the fact:
I can't quite write tonight.

I spit out vowels and consonants,
I'll try and give it one more go.
First one word, and then the other.
Wait, yes, there's hope.
A sentence exists,
And I feel bliss, until I read what it says.
I miss you.

****.
I can't quite write tonight.

The corners of my heart and head
Have had a falling out.

Look! It is Icarus coming for a new set of
Wings; maybe a heart.
We can all use another one.

The golden threads have melted away,
All in the case of pride and impatient flight.
Listen child, for there is much to both learn,

And unlearn.

Suicide and death have separate rooms, just like youth and cleverness do.
Take one without the other;
There's your incomplete lover.
It took him death to see his mistakes.
Fathers know all, except how to stay.

Those hearts left to rot inside the corpses;
I'm sorry we forgot about you.
Look! Icarus lives!
Father knows best in times of death.
That said...those wings are made of sin and wax.

He still lives though.
It still lives though.
The corners of my
Head and heart have
Had a falling off;

A falling out.

Those cracks on your face are echoes
From you heart.
And you said you felt nothing.
I knew you weren't boring.
Your lip is slashed open.
It trembled,
But not from the pain, but rather,
From what you never said.
Sapphires lock my eyes.
There is the unknown in them.
Pull them out! Please!

They are as pretty as a Lie.

I cough out nostalgia on cold nights,
It is beaten and battered.
Lilacs are laying on the lime colored floor.
September reminds me of a time I thought I had
already mourned.
Those brief encounters with you were seismic in size,
(I just didn't know that then.)
Lovers and roses only intertwine on cold,
autumn nights.
(I just didn't know that then.)

The river flows through shards of sharp glass looking
words.
The mystic memories were the only things trapped deep
in my cauldron.
I threw in remorse for a better taste, but,
it only left a sour sadness were I once had graze.


I cough out nostalgia on those cold,
misty mid autumn nights.
Those lilacs have suffered enough;
it's time to go home.
Those lilacs have suffered enough;
it's time to go home.

I died in the light with shards of glass
Stuck in my back.
I died tonight when I saw the ripped pages
All over the floor.
I burned them when I was young.
Those were my secrets bleeding
On the floor.

I died tonight when I realized that shadows
Could cry.
I Didn't know darkness its had its own eyes,
Its own lives.
Teenage tears are mixed with adult grief.
I've been my own enemy; the worse thief.

I died at seventeen.

I expect not a savior,
But a light that shines out into
The ocean.
I was the lost ship for so long until
I saw your light.
This is balance.
The look in your eyes should be
A crime.
Lock me up.
Melt down the golden key.
I want to be behind those brittle bars,
With you.  
Only you.
This is true.

I felt these words bouncing
Inside My skull; I laughed.
The tips were razorblades.
This is my burning soul.

I felt these words come out
Of me.
They are dancing on the floor.
This is my blooming heart.

I felt your lips on mine, and I
Sighed.
I knew June wouldn't let me
Keep this.
It would leave, like you.

I felt these words bouncing
Inside my skull.
Tap, tap, tap.
Tap, tap, tap,
Tap, tap. Tap.
They're nothing.
They're everything.
They are names, faces, and senses.

I felt these words bouncing
Inside my skull.

I know now what they mean.

If you happen to fall in love with me,
just know, and this is so,
I will be your sunshine and your rain.

I apologize for both.

Sadness is
Heavy.
It is its own heartbeat.

Apart from you
Or yours.
It has its own desires.

It's funny how it's never funny when people say
"It's funny, you know"
No one laughs.
There is no joke.
They are reminders of a lack of them, actually.
Put them behind velvet ropes and adore them.
There's your joke

I laugh now.

I stood on a city corner and cried.
I heard a car horn and sighed.
The light turned green at the crosswalk,
but I did no such thing.

This was our city.
Those were our car rides.
I want to blame you and call you names, but I can't.
August' scent is peaceful, just like you were for me.
I made you a God.

The devil in me did that.

When you meet
The one
Made out of it;
The universes gift.

With
A mouth
That,

Once opened,
Illuminates your battered
Heart,
Stay.

Darling,
The one made out
Of star stuff:
I need your light.
I've been blind
For

Far too long.

Enough of the shame
Of my own shadow.
Engulf
Me
In your light.

In the same way
Those tired,
Beaten,
Battered men
That returned from

The mouth

Of Poseidon
Come home,

Kiss their wives,
And know that,
In that moment,

They need their lovers
For the darkest of nights;

I need your light.

Obliterate my body.
Absorb me tonight.
Darling,

I need your light.

A look to a child
In all their unbridled
Innocence
And a thought:
Where did I leave mine?

It is all over the place.
The traumas of growing up.
The realization that people
Are their own worse enemies
At times.

All the time instead.

In the broken pieces
Of you,
Put back together
In a haste,
Only to be shattered again.

This innocence,
Abstract now,
Does exist
In the person you
Once were,
That child nurtured
To love, molded to hate.

A rotten fruit now;
Only on the inside.

Your smiles have turned
Into dissatisfaction for
Your lack of action
In existing,
Forgetting to live.

You grew up too fast.
Now it is to late to go back.

I saw an old woman today,
Walking through the rain,
Alone,

And I remembered;

Loneliness is real.

The photograph fits perfectly
On that blue wall,
It fits in my heart too.
It has a place to rest here
It has a home.

That smile, with is crooked corners,
Is no more.
Those eyes,
With reflections of a time nailed
To the past: they're gone.

I have your hair and I love you
For that. It is the pieces of you
That have made me.
It makes me a convict of the past.
I am there. Always in the past.

A bandit took your photo.
I can remember it still, just not you.
Oh how the moon won't tell me where you are. Oh how the sun burns when I stare at it and I ask it: have you seen a missing angel today?

A lack of a reply is a reply: no.
That picture is gone now.
Although I Still have pieces of you,
I cannot truly remember you.
That photograph was a time machine.

although it had a home to call its own,
It lacked a purpose.
It lacked a reason to exists.
It lacked you.
It lacked you.
It lacked me.

It must be dropped into the Catacombs;
my love for you that is.
Lucid lights tremble as I choose to forget you,
the taste of you that is.
I wore white gloves when I touched you;
your sultry skin that is.
I traced the freckles from head to toe, on
your sultry skin that is.

Tailors knitted my love for you deep in my lungs.
When I breath now, black dye excavates my body;
those are the memories of you;
Those are the secrets of you.

It must be trapped in the Catacombs,
my love for you that is.
In between my pillows, I smile.
The Catacombs have buried my love for you.

I don't have to anymore.

I took your look as a kiss.

I felt the green poison flowing
through my veins and being
carried throughout my slim,
uninterested body.  

The language of her look left
me reeling and reaching for
poles covered in grease from
the night before.

Suicides are redundant when
love gets in between unwanted
goals and something new.
It's dark enough in this room

not to care for death tonight.
Her body speaks of adult matters
to a hidden child inside.
Rip me open and devastate me.

It's as good a night as any for sin.
Let the Nile River flow out of me
and into your taboo cavern.
This secret cannot escape our tongues.

To be sure of it, lets wash it down
with ***, whiskey, and gin.
This kind of love is not kind in
the soul of the word.

Your look may be poison, but
my words are what is left
in between regret and suicide.
I now know that your kiss is sin.

You ruined me.
There you go
Rolling
Down from your
Mountain
Top
Towards your very own
Suicide.
You've named it Epiphany.
She's dressed to ****,
Eager to as well.
You roll
down
Down,
down,
Your mountain top
Surrounded with
Her kisses.

Your suicide,
That final scene;
It ruined me.

If it's here then I am over
there.
Or over
here.
But not There.
I can never quite
order my
together, words.
words together.
****.

The mad man
Mixed
With gin becomes
A praying man.
A dark man tied
Down to the awful
Stench of boredom,
Tired of playing
With others he has
No choice: he becomes
Death.
Transfixed and alone;
Come play with him.
Oh god and devils
Sidekick; stop it.
I asked what words
could not truly
Express. Is he dead?
Alive?
Or is he in the purgatory
Of his mistakes?
Listen to his voice
And ignore it.

He cried when the
Moon ran away.

The time of the world;
The time to formulate
Emotions is dead.

It's always been dead.
He's always been dead.
July was a mistake for him.

A faithless angel rest on one shoulder.
The damaged one hangs onto the other.
They are throwing daggers between my ears.
I'm unaware of why they are sad though.
Even the impossible quite on themselves.

It needs to die eventually.
You cannot live this way.

We think the right choice of words,
Written in the right order,
The right way,
Makes us God.

To some, broken is art.
The canvas disagrees.
To some, shattered is
The victim of what was.

Some people drink themselves to death.
Others choose Trust to do them in.
Ink on paper.
Love on the heart.

An infestation has stammered into my heart,
(your eyes.)
I see my breath in the air,
(get of of my head.)
Please, I beg you, get out.

All of you out of all of me.
Stagger your way out of my innards and down those
rotting stairs.
My hearts forgets how to work with you
in it.
Make your way down into the basement and die there.

My head swells up with loathsome thoughts
of you.

Sweetie, honey, Darling, I beg you...
Please, get out of me.

You must be evicted now.
I am tired.

Your love is
A made
Up

Piece.
Peace.

Totem poles can kiss the sky,
In the same way I kiss you.
Unstable is my spine when I am
Near you.
I forget the color black exists.
My cheeks fill with butterflies.
I swear I can fly to all the deadly
Planets.
Exaggerations in poetry,
Along with love, make sense.
God how I question everything about my black heart when you float to me.
I swear that my heart must not be red,
But rather,
A sultry blue.
Those three words are just words,
If that, at my best,
It's all I can give.

You are suicides other half.
I'll call you hope.

The birds and the bees
See what I see:
I'm a prisoner to your eyes.

The fox and the wolf
Taste what I taste:
Your tongue taste like lies.

The snake and the snail
Touch what I touch:
Your rotting skin.

The dog and the rabbit
Smell what I smell:
I'm your unwashed, decaying toy.

The bat and the owl
Hear what I hear:
I love you sweetie.

My senses betrayed me.

My body betrayed me
When it felt my skin
On yours.
It shivered and
Quivered,
It always wanted more.
There is glass
In my chest;
Nothing more.
Blue is color
Of lovers;
June is no more.

Eyes betrayed I by
Letting you cut me
And break me,
So please,

No more.

My eyes cry out dead flowers.
Each petal is wet on the cold ground,
laying there oh so very proud.
I could stare at them for hours.

There is beauty in rotting things
Can't you see?
There is beauty in old meanings
Even if they make you bleed.

My heroes are all dead.
Some took bullets to their heads.
Others drowned in gas and water
instead.
Some chose to swallow God down their
throats.
It must have been the devil,
or even worse,
loneliness,
that drove them towards death.
Now imagine if they chose to live instead.
In the end,
this poem wouldn't make any sense.

White wings mixed in with purple paper.
That is the angel for me.
Bold letters and special guest,
this is the band I need.

"I love you, I'm not gonna crack"