i am so hungry
i do not like this world
i have fed it so much
yet i starve now
i worry
what haven't i done
there are merely a few roads i haven't taken
all of them leads to the same end too
do i still change my narratives
i guess i should
atleast i am not starved of narratives
i should eat one of those narratives
make do,
wear myself down
but say it is might, it is tenacity
make do, the familiar road
hungry but i have to take it

it
i
it remains empty, so empty.
would you write into it endlessly,
would you writhe inside of it fervently
please ugly please

i said, would you wear my shoes
you said no, you have never used such shoes, you don’t imagine you can
and i said well that’s good
wear this hat then, i said
i will walk with you in the scorching sun, maybe offer you shade
you said no, you got to make appearances
would you read my soul, i asked
you said - no, it’s not what i read
i said okay, what if i give my shoes, hats, soul, blood and flesh
no you said, you don’t feel like it
okay, i said, i’ll write everything down then
but i restrained the spill,
until my body was full of perforations

there was never enough paper
never enough books
the pens contained me
the key clicks asked to trace back too much
the paint had its own stories too
the dance was too visceral
the film was incoherent
and so i lived and died into them all
the masterful rebellion

and then your skin, when it was my paper
my canvas, my strings, my music
every flinch and gasp and breath was like art complete

i wanted horns, i wanted a tail,
i never wanted wings
because i grew roots first

some days i mourn the death of stars,
some days i forget to mourn the dreams i massacred
both days i tell you nothing about it

somedays i mourn the death of stars,
some days i forget to mourn the dreams i massacred

both days i know i can tell no one anything about it
and i didn’t, but it seems like the end

so what if i erupted out all my infections.

riffed on and on
about these implosions that is the world inside of me
pretty words and raw sketches did not get it any lovers
lovers that only knew to love
and everything else felt so vacuous
so lacklustre

dissect me, let me be your science and god- i plead again
but i thought i am not reaching you because my words were not adept
so i made it better and i was all the more unreachable
until maybe i thought that was fine,
i will be unreachable, sad but well

will you reduce me, let me be an atom that intrigues you endlessly

so i plea
so i plea
shamelessly
i will make you coffees and teas and potions unheard of
i will let you cut into flesh of my dreams,
we will make love in a cobweb of intricately beautiful poetic delusions
but i am tired too

i want food
i want to eat and sleep and be pampered
like a brat cat that gets so much love
enough of being a dog, it is tiring
and i think i am living in dog years
wait i was about to say cat years,
i want to live in tortoise years
as a tortoise

muffled
were all the things i said
for it wielded hurt,
it was draped in poetic pain
no matter the season
and swarmed with a repulsive passion
i cannot love you for your wings
i want the scars, your scars
or the cut open bled out
parts of you
that i can resuscitate with every last of the air within me

or the ones that still bleed too
and i ll drink them dry when
i can't heal them
i will grow you wings
i will chew into the living and dead and angels and gods
i would eat the unborn
i would possess the dead
to feed it to you just so you can fly
just so you know me
see me

but **** i am tired,
i thought it was just my mind
but no i am old
so many centuries lived trying to
match and compete and triumph over myself
in being able to love,
in being able to know
do i have anything more left to give you?
no i will have to pretend like i do
which i cannot
so i don't know

it is not that you never say the right words,
that can pierce into my skin.
it's just whispers never lasted,
so now i yearn for my ears to bleed
and most probably that wont last either
but maybe
just maybe

and if not i hope i could die from it

i like to say
here is my soul
don't hate it
don't hurt it
don't share it
just feel it within yours.
because it is my soul
and that is all i have left.
be doused by the moistness it is surrounded by

somehow
somehow
if you cant stand it
don't tell me it

i wanted the world within you
i wanted the world through you
just through you
even if everything
everywhere else was as exquisite as it can be
even if it was all but dark and hollow within you

there is waves inside of me
ready to take you into my oblivious depth
with such voracious passion
i am afraid of it but i am also in love with it
because i am it
and i just wait for you
who is the all consuming dying star
that can devour all of my oceans and skies and apocalypses

will you go to war with me to love me more than i love you

stifled, i feel
because i am a storm you would forget
the wreckage i leave isn't to your taste
i was not wishing you couldn't withstand me
that was never why i came on too strong
i just wanted to sway with you in the tides
i wanted to savor you in the highs and lows
i just wanted to be your personal storm
just that although i get it, who wants a storm
but i am a storm nonetheless
and no one likes a storm that stays
when it does you find a new home
you tell the world it wrecked you

but no not words
when i said i cannot have the truffles or the waffles or dark chocolate
you broke them down and melted them
you got naked
you spread your legs and you spread it on those lips that forever seemed to conceal a pearl even you did not seem to know you should cherish
i liked that you liked it so i nibbled them clean
but i had to think about how much more insulin
i would need in the night
i wanted to know what truffles and waffles were
i wanted to lick them off your lips that quiver most
but would you get it without the sugar that can **** me
next time
that way i can die a little late and eat you endlessly

but hey i found donuts without sugar
it was sweet too
i ate it alone because who do i share
the yearning for sweet less sweet
while in a sugary decay

venus, i don't want to be your adonis nor anchises
or for you to lie that i am them
or maybe i do, why not
i just wanted to eat something sweet with you
that does not **** me

someone i loved was once concerned
that i'd get used to her nakedness if we spent hours and days like that
and that i'd stop being charmed by her but
that was not true.
the charm was in the oblivion she wore to her nakedness as each day passed
a quick turn, a shimmer, a shiver
i wonder if someone would ever want that of me

ah draw the curtains, i would rather not be seen at all
than be seen seeing, seen wanting

truffles and waffles
never had them,
diabetes is **** poetry to even the diabetics
it's just decay and i don't know what i taste like
i would love for someone to take their sweet time and taste me
and tell me something nice though
i can appreciate it even if i heard i tasted like lava
or mud or swamps
or coffee or blood or rust

i am not picturing you coming over with a box of truffles and waffles
only for me to tell you i can't have them one more time
and you were upset

i needed words first you know
"you did too much today, didn't you? again?"
"i want to read something you wrote?"
"i want to read you, can i read you?"
"can i eat your insides?"
“can i keep running my fingers through your hair until you sleep?”
“can you cry away all your pain while i hold you?”
“can i ******* so you forget the dread that weighs on you”

ruffle my hair and maybe i will fall asleep
do not strangle me for calls i forgot to return
because i will always do that
i must
i'll write love poems when i wake
and like i once did before
remind you that your lap is clouds pillow
i mean i know
that you do not know
how to make me feel those slippery chaotic feelings i make you feel
but do not love me like i do, i might hate it, love me just how you do
don't shy though
do not hold back, grab me, ***** me
or lull me, whisper to me, stab me maybe
how is all and any of that hard
do you like me more when i am insufficient?
for i can light myself into silver flames to do better
but i am tired

so let me just sit for now
breathe,
but i am afraid to knowingly breathe
what if i suddenly don’t know
what if i only can knowingly breathe
and i forget to


i like the windows open but i like the curtains closed
i like the curtains lifting slightly in the wind
i like the little i see through them than when it's open
i'd rather watch the world out as the curtain lifts for a few seconds

but the time i thought this was it
wasn’t then
it was during a **** nap and this one i loved was having a good nap
her hair under the noisy fan kept brushing at my face
but i didn’t move
now it is a fading memory and i still don’t move

ruffle my hair,
i miss being touched, caressed.
not callously although that felt good too
when there was none
i selfishly yearn for you to be selfish about me
because what if selfless love does not obsess you enough
i desire not the selfless love that in its selflessness is willing to let go
possess me kindly unkindly

forgive how i drape my existence with a contradictory me
both, both are me pleading

but i know not of this world
i have to pay to ******* myself?

where are my butterflies?
i want to tell them i am sorry,
have i been too loud, too dark?

i want to be the strings you pluck to feel things you feel
i am okay being locked in the cupboard or the corner room as well,
just keep me
even when i can’t give you those percussive pleasures
i'd have faith in you that there is more that could pour out of you for me
and when you pour endlessly i'd stay


so while being smothered i also wanted them to ride me,
unhinged, ride my face,
so unrestrained willing to use me and not hold back
they could not be any more real than then
so unrestrained, perched on my shoulders
the ******* blooming into flowers
the throbbing pearl inside of their lips i could hear and feel

and the marked moments of how i rejoiced too
while i sat on my knees and ate their lips
as they peed on me
i would look up and i saw they want it
and they wanted me to tell and i wanted it too yes
because i could be the only one they can do it with too
i felt special
and it felt good, yeah

and i liked being smothered under them
giving them all the power over me,
i thought maybe that made them feel good about themselves
and so they'd love me because i never could love myself
how selfish of me

don't give me the crap about i have to start loving myself
truth is
it is your excuse to not meet me where i am
and if even there is reason and rationality to that principle
**** i have tried and you didn’t give me nothing then
you called me a worm under your shoe

worm under a shoe,
does it coil up,
does it fit into the crevices and around your feet
what if it found a little cozy home around the base of shoes
and took itself where the shoes went
with you

anyway
a friend once told me i am fine with everything
so i wrote a poem about how i want someone to
lay together and decay together with, a poem
that no one read so i had to pay for someone to read it.
******* four lines
and i had to pay in hopes someone would soulfuck me enough
just once
ah no i wanted more than once

rubble, not that kind
seeing as to you reading
what
i
wrote,
you'd be surprised
it is not a weary writing about a weary life.
i can see you think that
haven't i told you to think that as much as
i have told you not to
or not, maybe you got so much molten erupting self inside you too
that you don't think about me at all
even if i use a lot of i
don't pity me
for i shun myself ten times as much
just so it does not weigh on you
anyway rubble, yes, what kind though
the laundry done looks like rubble
that is the kind of rubble yeah
as a kid i used to bury myself inside of it
not to come out though,
just to stay in
i wanted to be under, it was quieter
the world smelled clean, safe, moist
is that how it ought to feel
i loved women who made me feel that way,
a mix of slightly damp, slightly dry,
smells of the sun and smells of wetness all the same
they were also always heavier than me but they did not like it
i wanted to get fat for them so they will like me
but when i did get fat
i was ugly and sick in ways they never fetishized so i kept loving them skinny
because i always anyway loved like i was starving
they complained i am too lean for them and maybe that is one reason they didnt like to be seen with me
for cameras that is
in my memories they marked the images though
of me worshipping them
the slaps, the spits, the spats,
i felt oh you poor thing, i can’t help you, but i tried