the character who plays a part
of your own creation
pulled from the songs you sing
and the movies you've seen
no question now
an important role
in your imagination
appearing when applicable
ignorant of amicable
completely lacking
in empathetic means of relating
for an illusion will never be real

what the **** am I doing
and for how long
at what cost

stuck in all the unfulfilling
seeking the familiar under
every tombstone named "past"

if I met you now
I'd turn the **** around

a clouded aggression
a power
matching your fingers
stuck to my hips
reminiscent of disg(L)ust
what's the difference?

when you lick others
inside your head
the perfect dementia
of who you see unmarked
all ready for you
really the ones
who will never see you

keep me around
here is a fantasy
having absolutely nothing to do
with me

within the spirits of
each soul warming,
love spilling being
in the form
of the only creature who could bring about
such pure ecstasy and terror

woman
is the land encompassing
her

each one pulsing with the waves
and crumbling with the pressure
we are these mountains
we find pathless pleasures
and canopied tremors
enticing all others
through winding woods and hidden beauty
unmatched in our power
our wild existence
this magic aligned with
the space between two limbs
to bear your first breath

it feels innate never relating
I follow you up the stairs
but we arrive at alternate lairs
your inner child throws tantrums
while mine cries in hiding places
that no one's ever destined to find

actually
not too sure of what's gotten into me
because you and I no longer speak
nor do we ever see each other
still
even though there is no longer "we"
even though her & him & he & she
keep telling me to leave you be
to not make contact to set you free...

it's a little sick
that I keep these notes from you
now serving me sick little lies
on imaginary platters
to remind myself that it was real
and more importantly, it mattered

let me be honest
I don't know how to feel
you took everything I thought was real
then placed it on your plate
for a meal

I guess you found my delusions appealing
and my sorrow sweet enough to eat
keep filling yourself with tasteless treats

maybe soon you'll choke on the truth
maybe you won't be able to breathe
so for a mere 10 seconds you'll experience
what I've been dealing with for years

I've learned things
like a flame is coldest
at its tip
right in the middle
is where you get lit
the quickest

and
someone who
admires the curves
of your feet
is certainly someone who
was worth meeting

also
when you act like you don't care
the world acts accordingly,
loses meaning,
refusing so much as a glance
at your stare

mostly
if you don't wish
to be stuck
with a name you've created
for yourself
there are means of depleting it
if you remember the lessons of
placement
appreciation and
passion

you eagerly bit right into me
exposed all I meant to hide
with one bite

but then you took another
and another
again

I know that the skin
seduces the taste buds the most
but I can only hope
that at least one of your teeth
chipped on a piece of my core

it is happening less and less
nights where I can't help but miss
you're irresistible indifference

darling, you're undeniably vile
in the way you knowingly slap
a sheepish smile onto my face

how dare you carelessly caress my neck
some futile attempt to ******
after you've duped me?

no

I see only a lonely puppeteer
dangling all his past lovers in view

too far ahead or left behind
it seems I can never keep the color
inside the lines
instead my colors bleed
right off the page
either staining the future - yet to be
or tainting the past - already made

I can hear the flowers growing
in each moan of your breath
I can feel the breeze of your essence
while your body is pressed on me
your hair moves through my fingers
like wet sand
and the skin that I'm in
grins
like mad

I am not the type of flesh
to regret
the motion of fingertips
tracing my physical silhouette at rest
in ways even Schiele could not invent
still in knowing our actions are forward
I always hesitate to explain how I miss you

nowadays
there is no substance
aside from the ones I inhale
no core, no passion
pseudo-people have prevailed
no possible way to unveil
the food of truth has long gone stale

is one night
worth the four seasons?
because I've been struggling
to divide a line
through
the calls and the silence
between
the morals and the violence
and I still
have not
chosen a side yet

I crave the physical feeling
of you fleeting
but psychologically
cannot stand you leaving

resistance to change is consistent
with the unknown comes
the anxiety, the fear
imbedded in human nature
found at the corner of each turn yet
refused at each glance

I feel the whisky stains
on both of my cheeks sitting in 1B
he gave me my shot in a martini glass
apparently on Wednesdays at 10 am
people have better things to do
he figured I was afraid of heights
the irony of alcoholism

with the trillions of micro thoughts
and subconscious nonsense
realness sometimes squeezes through
mostly things like
tall grass in the wind
even at the center of a runway
will make me feel at home
more than anything else could
just for a fraction of a second
why can't that be enough?
for a fraction of a second
it is

hearts can really dive with deep infatuation
caused half by admiration
the others unknown fascination
I'm trapped outside
while my insides are emancipated
is it possible to be alive
during reincarnation?

gradual buildup
of bull-****
now all I can see
is through it
and all I want to do
is ruin it
all the flawed accounts with fake people
I can't stand it
I can no longer contribute
to the scene of social media fiends
who do anything
simply to be seen

relinquish your dependence
wave goodbye to all delinquents
then find you become in sync
with everything you feel and think

a mirror, if you must
sit not alone
but with yourself
until you face thy Self
otherwise
no one ever can
feel within
feel without
no other can then hand you doubt
to be mistaken as something
you think you need to keep

the roots from which
i'd like to grow
now known for sure
no longer reliant on stunted malnourishment
or the flick of a tongue that spits lie after lie
consumption as a vice will **** you

too much upkeep
all I dream of is sleep
these social standards
are temporary cancers
only dissipating
when I count sheep
days fleeting
without eating
still I'm always choking
on repeated scenes
only relying
on things that aid in dying
it is no way to live
being so set on ending
when I didn't even begin yet

days dangling
persisting mists keep paralysis
locked upon these lips
priority checklists insist
there is much more to live for than this

but a pack of 20 is gone long before
the night arrives
to heighten my hollow feining core
eagerly willing to endure more
if it brings an end to the internal war

then moved onto 100's
it's the percentage of how certain I am
that all corruption
is never ending

these invented coping methods
-lists of pros and cons with cigarettes-
are not getting me any closer
to blending
only extending
the mending process
of which I wish I was commencing

I bet instead
I'll keep pretending
that this demise is intended for me
still I know I'm only guessing
and growing further away from
social structure
that has been made,
but made to rupture

something about a face
with eyes of blue
makes it easy to assume
what the mouth says is true
calming color
quick to soothe you
but makes you blind
to what's consumed you

never have nor will I ever
know another woman
more certified than her
at alluring

makes no difference
if it is prey or play
I can assure you
she's magnetic
both positive and negative poles
have been perfected
to make it seem
like you're the opposite end

states of mind so foreign
that the home in your head will seem
as if it's been quarantined
mental shelter can no longer supply safety
there is only room to roam
the negative spaces of your brain

each characteristic taken away
from the natural tone of your lips
to the shine behind your eyes
good luck on your way out
the road you chose
is up in smoke

but you don't have the pictures
and that's what makes me miss you

pages of past happiness
taunt me
haunt me
into thinking you're sorry

but I know that you're not
and I know that you don't
have a single nice bone in your body

heat lets you drip into the backdrop
without notice
and melt into thick liquid air
alone

coldness knows its importance
a nurturing slap in the face
a playful bite whispers,
"wake up"

layers can always be added
but you cannot take off your skin

surround my limbs
and each forecast trims
a little off the edges
in silhouettes these hills refresh
my memory of what lies within
linguistics never interested me
nearly as much as our earth
beneath bare feet

speak to me
in ways no person could comprehend
these stark frozen caps stippled with pine
read my mind better
than any love has tried to
these elevations reach me
on a greater level than most
dare to dream of
these steep hills rise within me
as real as any emotion felt
these unharmed mountain pathways
heal my unarmed heart
these hushed yet
ever present winds
whisper harshly but never
attempt to sway the hermit
one way or another

no longer filled with longing,
no longer safe,
no longer sacred,
is instead solely a barricade  
that we've created equally
made to keep our unscripted hearts at bay
getting better by the day
easier now to keep a distance
that puts arms length to shame

night can always be felt

by how heavy my heart
trudges through the left side of my body

by the lack of people
to connect to

by the amount of liquid numbness
******* my soul

by what type of loathing
my eyes decide to find focus on

by the levels of regret
raising like steam from my chest

I can tell you this isn't fear
it's the constant feeling
that I don't belong here
not in this time
not with these people

everyone going through the motions
except for the fact that they aren't

only I play these solemn charades

I cannot hold a conversation
for these conversations hold no weight

more than willing to not shy away
there is simply nothing natural
about living this way

each face glued to what rests on
the palm
the lap
the wall

rarely other faces

why does this feel like my downfall?

when it comes to the point of not even wanting to consume but suddenly that liquid is a river

there is no escape when each day gains another loss

I want to ****** my heart in hand out the window, allow the force of wind to flow through each chamber and recycle the hurt into fresh air to see me through another day with him

for what

together we've mastered it

he, the artist of acting and
I, the priestess of pretending

we eat we sleep we breathe

not mechanical
but biological

we grow we love we feel

we'd be wise to learn from trees

no self loathe
no flaws

if we look long enough
we're free - to understand & see
a reflection of ourselves