A stranger has come
To share my room in the house not right in the head,
                    A girl mad as birds

Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume.
                    Strait in the mazed bed
She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds

Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room,
                    At large as the dead,
Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.

                    She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall,
                    Possessed by the skies

She sleeps in the narrow trough yet she walks the dust
                    Yet raves at her will
On the madhouse boards worn thin by my walking tears.

And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
                    I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor.
Tell his street on its back he stopped a sun
And the craters of his eyes grew springshots and fire
When all the keys shot from the locks, and rang.
Dig no more for the chains of his grey-haired heart.
The heavenly ambulance drawn by a wound
Assembling waits for the *****'s ring on the cage.
O keep his bones away from the common cart,
The morning is flying on the wings of his age
And a hundred storks perch on the sun's right hand.

SMASH

your porcelain armour
and toothpick bones
mine was scarlet few times
too many
control overwhelms me
do i swallow your universe whole
to save my long gone pride
as you were once mine
my universe and nothing less

or more

or do i do
what i wish you had done for myself
once upon a time
hold your hands through the eggshell mesh
and nurse your toothpick bones

I'm so relieved you love yourself.
It helped me feel like it was justified
That I didn't love you.

More meaningful then the first
But it will be the one that hurts the worst
The last I love you will be me removing the memory of you from this earth
Burying it six feet deep beneath the dirt
Hopefully masking the pain
The last I love you is a bad dream that haunts me
It's a plague in my brain
I want to be cured from this disease
The first time a way to keep you
Frontal lobe drunk on the thoughts of you
Contemplation was there
The voice in my head
You should say it
Wait no, it's too soon
Plus your going away today
Just say it then walk away
A goodbye in disguise
Saying it the first time is hard enough
Like a frog in my throat I just can't cough up
Gagging on the words
Thick out of my mouth
Like swallowing syrup  
I can see I can no long keep you
The last I love you will be the day I release you