stay
unless you've gone
then stay
until you've known  
that weak is not calm
and strength is not war
and hard hearts are strong
but strongest of all
are those who love all
for first they broke
and then they thawed
and then they found
peace in their warmth.

someone wake up
i've been sitting here
near the first stair
someone must be up

there's this thin ceiling
in between
beneath
you
me

i know you've never seen
my nose or my eyes seep
anywhere near the bottom

but this red sea
is the bled tears
i've shed relentlessly
second after century

i know you hear my screams
if i shout any louder
i'll see more sharply

so don't brush them off
come up with unjust cause
or rush to judge
your gut's wise walls

who are you
to hush
God.

nothing
like me
so please
descend from heaven
past hell and into me

love
nothing
like
me
silence me
set me free

and i will love
nothing
like
you
eternally

i am what you see
a product of he and she
the me of which you dream
your sealed eyes set you free
i agree
alternatively  
is mere reality
evil  
ecstasy
and all eclipses in between
are revealed

sleep
stay where you lead

i too will stay
but here
as I am
all along
then and now
i have and will be
standing  right
here

move along
once i’m gone
i won’t long
to thaw my palms
or arm my thoughts
with warmth

i want more
than to move
calloused hearts
up in arms
like mine
in arms
cup my palms

frozen
purple

all but my heart
but always at war

i can feel the crazy kicking in
kissing scrapes
my victim's suffering
scared shitless
shivering
splitting
like time
circling
around me
like rings of sharks
coming back
at once
for seconds

the ends of my hairs
are second guessing
their ends
like i do mine so often
wondering when
it’ll finally happen. extinction
the extent of my right
to expedite its presence
and whether i’ll be alright
feeling cheated
and leveled
knowing there’s no
hell
but there’s also
no heaven.

the thing that distorts reality
till reality distorts my love for
it

i don’t follow
and won’t lead
if my dreams
chase after me
at night
i won’t lose

no sleep
and i will feel free
aimlessly seeking the street
sign so no one sees
dimly lit lights live

where nightmares strip me
of all i claim to be
then embrace my body
followed by me chasing them
when they threaten to leave
i claim to tease
when on i still lead

in reality
they know all
that i am
for them
my reality
is the dream

if i die today
and you
and the rest
are okay
with us estranged
then i’m ok
and the rest
of my days
will lay safe

my winning wrists
insisted i don’t resist
their dire desire
to emulate
nooses

it used to be
a mere fantasy
but the notion
of perpetual sleep
has won me over

i drag my silhouette
pretending all is well
like drags from my cigarette
i'm cancerous to myself
we're both just smoke
and slaves to myself

i love him too much
perhaps he was right
though he was wrong
about only one thing
Him

i fall asleep
and wake to tears
that torture me
i can’t take one more night
i won’t take one more day

so i will take it all away

tell mama she was always right
goodnight.

maybe i don’t deserve to be stable
my mind always did love wandering
yet somehow
it never embraces changes

needless to say
the thin veil crowning my brain
faded
when i replaced it
with red pins and needles
but one too many
led to sudden and mass vacation

after all my hard work
hours of painting

bars
the pillars of our cages

i always did love to wander-
lust was taking my saneness  
i left a piece of me behind
after every visitation to strangers
and i wonder how it is today
that my thoughts take me nowhere

when they’re in a million different places

God
get me out of my own head
please
keep me out of my own way
i
stay awake to fall asleep
pray
i won't see the day
i see

but the week/weak
never cared
just like me
till today

today
i see

i lie to him
he lies to me
side by side we lie
till i fall asleep
and he leaves

he always knows
never to come over
unless i need to heal
after his hands beat me
but better yet
he always knows
to leave when it's all over

so when the sky turned over
as did i when i rolled up
so lonesome and more broken
and less so because this morning
i had his rough hands controlling
my thoughts to claim i caused it

i hold them both to console us
and all fours know that i'm sordid
i hear him calling my phone
his tone shows me he's been gone

my nightstand dead men
show me it's over
and now i can't lie
or stand being sober

the venn diagram of conscious decisions

to drink: achieved through a state
of self-inflicted unconsciousness
rapid.
pleasurable.

to think: achieved through a state
of self-imposed consciousness

slow

tortuous



the overlap: interchangeable
two means too fatal
in reality
insanity resides in the latter

i may be a sadistic cynic
but i am no *******  
i'm too selfless
or selfish
synonyms....

do clichés not instigate
infinite plagues

so why put off until tomorrow
what yesterday
could have hypothetically
assassinated all
my future-former sorrow

it would have been excellent then
to begin embarking on my end
though it's ok
i hear they also state
that never is never not better than late
and how i love to double up
on shots and my many
mesmerizing negative mind states

thus
once the ex exits
what next best exists  
than the first
if not its successive fail
the second in line
and what time most prime
to quit
more so
than me
while i'm behind

**** a sober mind.

knights take shots
trying to steal my heart
steel it was till it was not

so let the sun tell them
no man's son can rob
what’s been long lost

gone

inhale
exhale*
stop.

next...

life
is nothing

but a too tedious
to-do list

i’m forced to fulfill
for forcibly living

i'd have at-will in it enlisted
with as much passion as that with which

today i wish to exist.

- endless

heaven is not on earth
but it is insulted
because only hellfire
knows of injustice

how come you and me
two who’ve
never met nor swapped sentences manage
to share snark remarks
restless in our respective heads
with no respect for one another’s existence
only contempt
it’s not so with any of the others
strangers acquaintances or lovers
we share something so rare and more special
absolute oblivion untainted by rumors or manufactured societal whispers

i know you reel your bridge wobbly bridge up
when i can feel the joints in me grow feeble
as i sit crippled fixed and fixated facing my window
rear
view mirror pointed at my own picture
in constant and consistent self reflection
conquering me and who am i but my self image
the glass always did manage
to drive me insane while as i drive away
never knowing where always lost
and failing to distract the tailgating tears
that fixate on me in a manner familiar to the see through glass protecting and destroying me simultaneously
when so often as i do
i set my gear in rear to feed my view
with the daily purpose i succeed to achieve as i creep routinely
sealing
concealing
you
my blinds always convened at the zenith near the ceiling but me
blind as can be at the mastermind in my head that never doesn’t lie to me
perhaps on my deathbed if it’s cruel as me
she’ll ever so gracefully reveal
the futility of my mastery
existence
sat in the same seat
villains use for immortal rule
or so i believed
until she interrupts flashes of my life as it reels transiently
and i hear white noise
precede pictures of my enemy
not the one who consumed every day and week
but me
last in line
in the rear
like the rectangle red as my hand is
that i’d moved foolishly
when it came on the four wheels  
voluntarily convincingly and connvivingly
propelling my apathy as i tell havoc i wreaked to thank me for sloppily reconvening pieces of piece but only if they come to me at a time of conveniency

and as i let the last breath leave
i weep in agony
it tells me won’t cease lest i voice humility
and in the ashes of my pride
and defeat
i stand mistaken ready tremblingly

and as the last breath leaves me
i am forced to face myself for the first time truthfully
despite the absence of shards or glass  
i wheeze my insignificance
and its ancestors i ungratefully inhaled for years on end
leaving the atmosphere with nothing but negative air
known to devils as credit
and the naive indebted
i move it to check one last time
the status of the pests i’d see whenever i took one second to check if i’d yet received my privacy  
and it returns the gesture by in turn moving me

and as i lie here
losing touch with reality
and the air you breathe
absentmindedly
i burden chooses to leave me
and i know i defied physics
because until now
never have i truly breathed

and as you lie to me
blind that you are not me
but i am you
foolish
in the fake truth
that i lie here
when i no longer do

one day you too as i have
will have learned the lesson
taken the final
passed
and finally
as i have now
passed
you have yet to meet it
but there is a heaven

in time
you too
like me
will see it:

sleep.

i am who they are not
first
and foremost we know
to stay on track is not to look back
bent necks are best
for what's worst to lack
success by fact
by way of
back
tracks
as cracked as i am
standing
where i now stand
i know how my legs lag
i can hear the echoes of mockery
from the sounds made by my dragging feet
disjointing me
but the shots they fire
never miss nor fail
to ignite my flame
or tame its tame
or take me anywhere
but where i find myself now
wearing burn marks that to my flesh
are as mutating as they are
to my head
enlightening

can't think amidst this
chaotic conglomerate
coined companionship

screaming speakers
weak winstons
sinful sexes
indirect intentions

vicious voices
as if it's insufficiently
pacifistic
in this excessive thinking
my nemesis
feigns friends
concoctions
contradictions
composure
i uphold
to call
when they call upon
myself

sometimes i get caught giggling
by my eyes
in solace
till sagacious flashbacks
attack
i reminisce
in retrospects
those words of his
he chose to omit
their counterparts
which he transmits
with infinite tact
royalty don't smile
signal
leave who you lead
behind
holding their breaths
and possessive
obsessive
over more questions to ask
than answers to grasp
balance is a task
and who
if not you
is talented at
abandoning straight lines
that find themselves at last
lost
alone
in intricately
tangled tracks

- end

forgive me
you're why i am
and too beat
to be
me
so wrong to compete
i'm so lost
incomplete
and completely unclear
as to why i sit
upright
uptight
in this filthy seat
like i have
this past year
                    daddy
please
tell me
why won’t
my feet lead
to where they say
the heart beats

and help me see
how it is
that i can
count infinitely
the steps between
home and me
and simultaneously hear
in the depths
of my chest
this pounding  
when i am
as heartless
as i have been
made out to be
what then
could it
possibly be

- end

i don't know whose
firsthand reaction to the sight
of me crawling is worse

that of the man
that asks how i am
as he backtracks
in baby steps
or
those of the rest who
due to oversight
or indifference
are unconsumed
and unconcerned
by and with
futile breaths
nonetheless

but i sure as hell know
the answer
    doesn’t matter
    so long as i stay sat
    writing rhyming rants
    to hold my skull’s fracture captive
    and perhaps
    so i can have it massacred
    alongside its inner cats
    their joint force task of making contact
    with my meek heart also known as
    the meager muscle
  plasma-mad
      in vein
              and
                 collapsed.

- end

i can’t bear this silence
so i instigate
the flame distracts
i’m well aware
that though i often fall
there is a part of me
that never fails
and always grows

- end

this little heart of mine
i can't let it shine
only blind by passion
it ignites in desire.
let it live and catch fire
start riots and conspire
so together, in harmony
we can finally unite, fight

back and back
        
fire.

when i don’t pay attention
or smile at her every second
because my self, absorbed in her ways,
is fueled by fumes and preoccupation
with the remnants of my reflections
adversities in the shape of shattered fragments
at the hands of the menace who disparaged
with flying colors
my preconceived
notions of beauty
its existential crises
or lack thereof—
or extinction altogether
that day calamity
struck my ignorant mother
allowing me to stomach her
and with conviction
mimic a life-conviction-struck robber
and weasel my way out the tunnel


her presence never fails to tear
in parts unequal and unfair
my distraction her haughty air demands
******* mine but this time i have trained
or so i have dimwittedly led myself to believe
to maintain sanity soon to be by her relieved
i rapidly pray on my way to met her
in the needlepoint spot on the planet
marked by mere millimeters

but once again as i foolishly dismiss
simple common sense because haughtiness
has always far outweighed the myth
of other qualities we believe are bliss
running the same film strip i relive the same scene
and wonder astoundingly as to how i could be
so obscene
and ignorant
with no happy
to accompany
only misery
and consequential calamities

i only dream
in my wake some day
to see crocodile tears
of lizards’ deep green
as the envy they feel
and the currency they steal
and the grass underneath
which i will soon be at ease
one winter day when priests
sit, sympathize and believe
that anyone for me
could truly bereave

at her sight, i leave
and what’s left
knows what the other feared to hear
    we’re meant to be.
for her i ferociously fall
and the high as i soar in her presence
is far more potent
than the feeling of blackness
i saw back when i crawled out the tunnel
and suddenly saw nothing
unsure as to whether
my sight had abandoned me altogether
or the world was so devoid of light
making my eyes as likely to see
as the hope of those it had massacred
to come back once more and restore happiness

i only see in her vicinity
and no deity or creed decreed
feigned, fabricated, false, factual, fined or free
has or will be near me or nearly
as close to the tier of the invincibility
i currently perceive
i fall for her
and i fall for her again
and i never understand
how something so revolting
could be so coveted
and cunning
and contradictory
but such is you
and such is me

c’est la vie.

- end

everything won't be ok this time.

my favorite part of love
isn’t the moment you see a slippery street
and still decide to step on the concrete
knowing full well
the banana slippers
on your feet
will inevitably fail to succeed.

or even the transient—albeit seemingly ceaseless—ischemic attack that accompanies,
only to flee,
leaving your newfound morphine deficiency
all you never knew you’d ever need

it’s not the self-pity,
pain,
or sympathy you summon from stems, branches, buds, or fallen crispy sheets
that console you due to formalities
while deeply-seated loyally
in your freshly proclaimed enemy.

the slip
the trip
the consequential limp
are magic. enchanting. it’s sick.
but not nearly as diseased
as my favorite phase of this plague—
its terminal infirmity the second epiphany strikes me
simultaneously as my previously paralysis-ridden limbs
spring lively
and i cling onto the same steel anatomy
that had infected me
as viciously  
as it now
heals.

- end

incessant selflessness manifested is ignorance
opposite its notorious nemesis, selfish, insidious

let the latter mask the masses,
they are us and we, its masters

yes, i was them till i was casted
i will not master nor be mastered
for voicing inquisitiveness
similar to the kin of the sin
rumored to have killed the cat
let them castigate and excommunicate
my mask will decay in the casket

till, that is,

they let the former; its toxic gasses
end times nine lives like mine
shunned and inhabitants
who slumber under overpasses
and would unwaveringly pass
on being passive
on not going under
long before playing roles active
in a world so colorfully composed
of paint strokes dipped
in tin cans consisting
of the blood and innocence
of shunned masses,
the victims of ignorance
and its subsequent massacres.

asleep in peace
at rest with my dignity
my pride
and all the answers.

as are the circumstances
of those who will not master
nor be mastered.

disaster

- end

i am what you see
a product of he's and she's
and the me of which you dream.

why open our eyes
when they have nothing to reveal
but me

all along
all alone
stranded
standing here.

- end

and if i died today
no one would see
till the organs grew potent
and summoned them
to their senses, olfactory
and led them to the decay that is me
dead or alive
and unwanted

it's ok.
i'm prepared.

i can always make them come
though i can never make them stay
and when outliers do on occasion
i lie my way out till they lie back in line
and once again i can go about my isolation

i see the little girl wearing me.
puppy eyes, dogged tears
she's so ashamed of me
she says we've gone missing
in this world, she's all i've been missing
so i made her go.

and let the distance grow
because although i know she misses me
she doesn't know she misses nothing when i'm gone
and everything when i'm here too long

if not for the memory of her purity
i would contemplate my eulogy
so strangers i wish i knew
knew what to read before they buried me
     like i did with the little birdie
     earlier when she caught and told me
     that my little girl is wearing everything but me
     and that she makes them come
     ever since i made her leave
    
-

today is here.

- end

i fell in love at first sight
my heart was dancing till it stopped
it was all my fault

night after night
i sought life and pursued solutions
yearned to learn to go on to teach it
just how to reconvene all its pieces
with no help from neither

knight after knight
nor the world outside
and how to make its own beats
because taking beatings from strangers
is what put it to sleep after seizing

lethal sleeplessness
steered me wrong
and under its grip
i gripped its wheel and steered to collide

saw the road
switched sides
opposed signs

the alarmed neighboring cars'
bore honks resembling alarms
and in the midst of my insomnia
i was awoken to recall
that every eye
even in its prime

has a spot, blind.

- end

our masked master
has manipulated us masses
maneuvered its path in our minds' wires
mismatched them
and the only tool it uses is language.

when we hear its ring and rhyme
in voices we think are customized
as we vacillate with the waves place us
in elation--a space where we are stars
and even Eden's leads don't succeed
in leaving us or similar sheep
anywhere near
a state of such satisfaction.

so we pass it and overlook action
subject ourselves and check out our self-respect
to the delinquent library members
we subjectively deem handsome

the truth is never not vile
double minus signs.

but math has all the answers.
falling
+
overlooking
=
disaster

it can all be dismantled
but it told us
what it wants in regards to what we want
and our demands are instantaneously met
its compliance made us believe again
and we embark on a trip to power
seizing all that which we can
with its allowance

because of it, now we have
everything we
need
and
want
and
love

and we used to think with regard
but since it used us
it's our own thoughts we disregard
if we could recall the ones we had before
would we opt to head for similarly travelled roads
where we are both patriots and xenophobes

all moot notes
none of my words mule votes
it told us to, so we are
why should we try
if even our lazy minds compartmentalize
to save time as if we have lives
as opposed to its lies
all the while, it sees the truth

we keep the negatives boxed in
the truth is never not vile
double minus signs.

the clarity of our psyche
and the level of our blind intertwine
we used to drive but now why
when we have it to steer
as we sit obliviously
as it delivers
sip vials
give more homes and less lives
to our livers
breathe and supply loads of hope
when we clip loose weeds from the streets
and into our corrupt, vial-ridden systems
where our lungs are filthy prisons.

we can't see how crippled we are visually
because it's what we want
and feelings aren't things our eyes perceive
it can't be

we aren't who we want to be
only who we want it
to want us to believe
so we can hold on to the pass
all victims receive

without it
we would not want it
or want
or be.

love,
love.

- end

nothing to do.
nowhere to go, because i'm here.

levitating
if you take away these sheets
my legs are crossed
i'm alone, after all
the screen is off
because when it's only me
who's there to put on a show for

i feel one ankle touch my knee.
my other sole is right but blood is life
and it feels so cold on my purple-pink skin

this precisely is the type of moment in solace
that incentivizes my strike plate's flawlessness
it's unexplored
like the ****** groomed in preparation
for a very imperfect fiscal offer
made amongst four x chromosomes
we sometimes coin fathers

and really if you look closely
you'll know why i let them do to me
what i've struggled to do with myself
for so long. en-titled.

i pay the price whenever i free-fall
but a cold soul is something i can afford
given the flight down revives
late exhibitions of all the love i once had
that weighed so heavy but now acts
as the anchor where my frown is
what i should be
never lost and always found

and if i could
i would defy science
and gravity
in my psyche
and gladly glide downhill
perpetually to
feed fleeting feelings
before once more
i abandon control
and lose to
a-
void

- end

please,

i need restarting.

it's been such a feat
offing these viruses that offer me toxins
and we can only blame me
because i let them feed despite how they appear, unsightly
as the manifestation of this disease, progressive.

i'm not deserving of this distinguishing
for responsibility i'm relinquishing due to negligence
and incessant selflessness
synonymous with ignorance

and you...
you only dream of this type of recognition
dedication to your existence makes you far more deserving

but who pays mind to mundane, even if it's right?
though overlooking it entirely...  
that's how me's are made.

and once upon a time, i was.
but today, i am not alright.

-end

i hereby present  
this
sacrificial offering
to you and your kin
men of any skin
indiscriminate of ticks
hands, time spans, or dimensions

it never meant
much to me
to start with.
none of my organs
can play melodies
and boycotting churches
doesn't help much--
weekdays or ends

i'm weak in the end.
you'll feast nonetheless.
i accept.
condescend what's left.
because i comprehend
that i can't live with myself
regardless.

and why fight the taste of bitterness,
when i've never tasted success.

- end

here, world.
have these words.

it’s all for the better
i’m all for the worse

they're all bound
to come around
and rebound
some days from now
so what’s the worst?

don me a a player
of words
and an alphabet
about which
i could not care less
though in them is my worth
they’re the sole characters  
on which my transient existence depends…
how symbolic.

don't allow it
they’ll run out of artists and authors
when they realize they need to pay attention
to working on pay without paying on their end
so they pay homage and paint my pale face
and hang it up as they say grace and pass the pail, there's
a pencil in my left although i’m not right at times
hand it
although i've only used pen those times
grant it
to galleries long after i am gone
and my silent voice of self-defense that is read when i see red
is no more
and granted,
my flesh is dense, entrenched and soiled in worms and soil
and the sole consistency in my after and my life is my nonexistent soul

don’t let the gluttony go unnoticed.

for if there is a phenomena i despise more so
than broadway shows which broadly showcase
plain, feigned mythical “facts” amidst quotes
it’s the fact that
myth
has no purpose
but to extort
the 27 things i’ve ever known:
my mean letters and my enemy
long after i
am no more.

little brother.
my little angel

how little i feel
how minute i must be
for you, who is me,
to up and leave
my little baby...

i misspoke
and misconducted
and miscommunicated
and miscarried
the purity
that is you
the bane of what is me
and my existence

the pain from the staircase
i ****** my broken body down
still aches

and i am ready
for an eternity
of agony

if anything happens to me tomorrow
i need nothing else
but for you to understand
that if not for you
tomorrow
would have been so
long
long
long
ago

don't ask me
when this all happened
they all left me
the answers

i don't know
at which point it was
precisely
that i ventured from
a lonesome mutant
to a loyal consumer
of one man
by the surname
Jameson.

all i understand
at this point in time
is that certainty
has no place in my mind

and that if nothing
and no one
and no place
and no aim
and no intention
of any change
he is here
and that
is all  
i will ever need

i do
i do
only death
can forcefully
make me bid
my loyalty
to my one truth
adieu

- end

all i need is you and me
to rhythmically breathe
this chemistry

let the air release
the bliss i feel beneath
the deep pigments
that compose the skin tone
that is yours like me
when i am consoled
by you, my harmony

the figments of chaos
that barricade logic
from my
barren
    vacant
   mind
reassure me
as any talented sadist would
that my work is greater for
being for the greater good
...that i am far from good
for i far supersede
what all talented sadist
curators ever could

and if not for the poetry
your exhales hand
my mishandled ears
i wonder
if i would ever again
be able to feel.

- end

so
in love
not with you
but myself
in your presence

so
in trouble
not with you
but myself
if you vanish

- end

intrusive.
you
refuse
to soothe
these thunderstorms
in me.

they're brewing.

one day they'll explode.
and even if i knew the future
nonetheless, i'll look like
a fool.

i can't quite define
why sometimes
and sundays
i seem
alright

the peace of mind leaves me uneasy

it tells me i'm releasing
the memories that eased me
back when i needed
bracing
and saving
for defacing
the part of me i hated
with passion
that resembled that
which you once had for me
especially on days
when the sun came first
and foremost

sevenfold.

i am the heart
of these walls.

i have nowhere to go

only God can know that i am not grown
though they beg to differ so often

God only knows that i am so worn
and so
          so
old.

i apologize
fighting to find
fair rationale
that may contrast
the way i justify
the foolishness
of continuing
to provide
abode for this weight
when all it has
is novel means
of snapping my back

suffice it to say
my tolerance for pain
lies in a plain land
far far away
blanketed
on the outskirts

i will implore
should the scene need
for you to believe me
if nothing else
i’ve learned to suppress
my dignity
transiently

the only fear
is that it discover
the relief
of the darkness
under covers

- end

i miss you a lot.
but i'm more mad at you
than anything.

when i met you
i had nothing
not even a place to rest my head
when the sun did
and the moon lit
hand in hand with its soul mate
the night sky
like they always did
and always will
with the exception
of solar eclipses.

but those are just temporary.
they get angry at each other
but that's transient.
they always get back together.

i miss you.
a lot.
but i'm more scared
than anything.
because i can't tell
if we were like
the moon and the sky
or a solar eclipse.

when i feel down
for knowing i know
i don’t not
stoop low

i cut morbid
short circuits shorter
for torture. torn rapture
it incapacitates

and breaks order.
to do so
i con endorphins.

i feel small.
especially
when they grow
and go.



and i'm here. more
                                                            ­alone.
than ever before.



i resort not
to overflown words
nor spilled souls
poor or porous

they transform whole
into prose seldom spoke
almost as though
forced forward
fueled by formerly
foreign
external forces

and i'm a foreigner.
and i'm a xenophobe.

and i am
a vagabond gone rogue
to enforce laws and propose chaos

my thoughts provoke.

i ****** them to
withdraw.

they pass it on.
they're why i’m so
withdrawn.

to belong, i pass it forth.
and i'm so far gone
regardless, i will
keep
withdrawing.

my man
are you proud
of your hand
the one i have
woven around
my ham

tell me
is mama proud of you
does she call you a man?
does she know
she had everything
but a man?

that is, unless, of course,
mama's a crook like you
and she thieves like you too
and she can't help herself,
but she helps herself
to what she can't.

****.

like the shame you all are,
your whole ****.

i hate your name
i hate that i am
not
my own
man.

i find it unnecessary
to exchange mixtures of letters
with the receiver i once did see me
engaging in foreseen endeavors with
but history tore me and we  

though i now retract
exceptions are had
such as
when i choose to detract
the warmth i had way back
in the past
when our fire did not brand
but did attract
us to one another
not like now
and how it knows
how to protract
to engulf us
to turn good
into bad

i release resistant exhales
and doubt
on newfound callousness i once could
reroute
only when allowed by a sizable
payout
even if along the way

it cracks

the heart
i once had

and the heart
i once had
sworn
on my life
to pass
for
before

i
let it
pass.

they mistake me
often.
their heads lead them astray.
they judge books.
and covers.
and they correlate us
together
much too often.
although
they’re aware.
and they know
all too well;
better than ever to engage
in such cliches.
classic traps.

they call me
beautiful
often
they show me their sketches
of isolated circles.
i later come to find
are so enamored
they've merged into
one
vastly overlapping
ven diagram
each individually labeled
me
and
purity

how i wish they’d stop seeing
                      and start hearing
the words
my much too often
hyper-glamorized lips
try uttering
forewarnings
of appearances
and deception
before their whims
begin interrupting
the inevitable
is the contempt
their ignorant hearts
will build
and ultimately
i will suffer and so will
my will
power--

more so than will power
they don't know
possesses the ability
to observe me
through truly
objective
optic nerves  

ever will.

it’s all a haze
i hope it’s just a phase
though these winter days
don’t feel the same.

i can’t ignore
the overwhelming way
i
miss
you.

the only thing containing me
is my eyes as they're rolling back
to see the silly name i gave you
when we were we
top the list of my
messenger’s screen

i’m certain i’m insane.

and certainly, i
would see no sanity
to claim vanity
in my extinct ability
to up and leave
i can’t leave

you.

so i only ask
you to stop
topping the list
my currently
rolling eyes
if they could see

would wish
they couldn't

see.

it’s funny

my anatomy
my heart lying
inside me
beckoning
beating me
to beat
feigning delicacy

isn’t it funny
it’s merely a muscle
i feel it steal beats
my steel fists copy
it clenches and dictates
me and my existence
and like me
never rests
only
keeps
beating
itself

it isn’t funny
aren’t muscles
meant to provide strength
to shield me from emptiness
and disconnect me
from all these tissues
i keep rupturing
why the contrast, then
why does it do the opposite
does it beat me out of spite
knowing i take it to heart
and again when i find
dense napkins inside
and realize
that they never left
but the worst part
is the blood-red
     cherry
on top that i need.
bitter venom i need.
to be what i don’t know
i want to be. in a world
where i’m unsure
as to why it brought me in
or what it is that is
that which up to
i should be
living
which is that
that keeps on beating
and killing the same thing
it's expecting me
to be achieving.
i hate the fact
that heartless
i suffer
though if i could
i would love
with all my heart
the alternative
that is subordinate
to fraternal evil twins

because there is no
suffering
nor mourning
as that of a heart
not yet deadened.
if only the analysis
caused it the same
paralysis
as is
witnessed in my now idle mind  
that flatlined
when i realized

i was
birthed
exist
live
and will
cease with
the oxymoron
that is
weak muscle, me:
strong  
and hollow inside

the old man goes to what
for the night
acts as his local diner, NoHo.

he causes a ruckus.
the surveillance lights
flash on.

he doesn’t notice this since
he’s too busy conversing
with himself.

all the others trade glares
these days, i guess,
passive aggression is strength.

-

she lays the baby plastic tray
on my table—the waitress
we briefly switch formalities

and she leaves
and he turns to me
and says

oh.
i would’ve said hello,
had i known.
though,
i thought i won't; assumed you’d glued
your earlobes’ holes with those phones,
like them all.

he looked away
to continue the interaction
i had so rudely interrupted.

and that's when epiphany crashed in
as i reached for the white strangers
i let sing and speak to me so often:

whose sanity are we to question
when it’s not he
who voluntarily hears voices,
but who speaks to himself
because our need for humanity
is involuntary.

-end