“I love you cupcake,
sugar cookie,
double chocolate coffee crumble toffee almond cake.”

                                                         ­                             “I forgot my insulin
                                                         ­                               but that’s ok,

                                                            ­                           just please give me more,
                                                           ­                            we’ll figure it out later.”

“You’re my sweet living nightmare,
my small wondrous death,
my fanciful figure of false hope.”

                                          Come melt on my tongue.
                                          Send me into convulsions.


                                                  ­ Leave me here

                Choking on the chalky aftertaste of candy heart sentiments,
                Clumsy banalities dribbling out the corners of my mouth.

                                                      Mur­muring,

       “Forget the ******* insulin. Give me more. We’ll figure it out later.”

the purple-yellow bruising on my heart
refuses to heal.

behind every unlocked door I find
a brick wall.

Your airport refused to check my baggage.

So here I am
stranded in an empty terminal
clutching a dead phone

waiting

to speak to a manager that went home ages ago.

Listless wanderer
Ridiculous refugee.
Discord your lullaby,
  frailty your fuel.
Strangled by redundancy
Complacency a curse.

four numbers.
a start.
dashed between dashes of time
waiting for,
four numbers.

the view from the high you give me is
       dizzying.
i want to zip line down to the depths of you
find a home among the wild things.

the wild thoughts that rock you awake
"do you still like me"
"please don't answer"
               rushing out in the same breath.

you're an arbitration for this listless monotony
            of being.
the long ebb,
interrupted by your flow.

you're a sinkhole i gladly dive into,
                headfirst.

“I don’t want to think,
don’t make me care
-im running late.”

Emotional sadist
Your closet runneth over.

“Drug me”
I whisper
half lyric
half request
as you silence me with your
“Acid Tongue”

you are

an arbitration
to this restless void

the long ebb
interrupted by your flow

what you aren’t

is a savior

what you aren’t

is an answer

you are

a “Lost Cause”

fathered by frenzy,
true love is born.
convulsing into complacency,
it withers as we mourn.

Gauze and gargle,
clots and codeine.
   No straws!
   No scotch!
Where wounds heal,
craters remain.
Months pass,
violence fills the void.
A call,
a message,
a beacon of hope.
A crown for the headless king,
  asleep in the depths of his saliva slicked cave.
Clasping and grasping,
  an imposter of the highest caliber.

2 months in
Im breaking down the door
to say goodbye
its all too much
screws, bolts, and screams catching in my throat
rattling handles get no response

6 months and
faults stand up-right
feeding themselves
solids and solitude

Pet names now muttered through pursed lips.

12 months
12-plus texts
12 syllable excuses

1 year 6 months
your lap warmed by another
excuses at the ready
answers never unearthed

2 years
I love you
Filtered
through im sorry

3 years
obligatory outings
ominous lulls
sheets lay undisturbed

4,5, and 6 fell
parachutes long forgotten

1 ring
deserted.

A fizzle.
A fury.
The rabbit and the hole.
Like puzzle pieces left out in the rain.
Overexposure,
         White hot.
Ex-communication leads to excommunication.
This is your brain on drugs.
Intravenous lover,
  **** the marrow dry.
          White hot.
  blistering
Pustules darling!
Transgress,
then offer a pause,
      as though we had ever begun to play.
Like a claustrophobic *******,
leasing out a shoebox.
I want in for good.
I want out for life.
Lets play hide,
  all the seekers are dead.

My lips,
     chapped on my birthday.
Your skin,
     a soft and subtle reminder.
An on going melody,
these reasons,
i need you most right now.

Raise your warm palms towards my face,
     let your mind unfurl.
Don't forget  the slowly drumming fingers,
    down the spine
               then slowly up the the nape of my neck.
Fix your eyes on mine.
     challenge accepted.
Match your breath with mine,
     a synonym to my melancholic melody.

sticky sweet molasses
your lies
drown this *** soaked heart

8 yards out
6 feet under

unearth the skeletons
line them up for show and tell

the one with a smile
like sunburn on a foggy day

the one whose words
left me with permanent tinnitus

the one
who floundered at my my feet
begging to get in
only to find my waters too deep

                                                           ­                                     and you.

Aged to perfection.
if tongue were possessed,
the stories it would tell.
Fighting life's cruelties,
with elitist disregard.
Unjust paradigms,
swept under the rug.
Misleading confessions,
of love not truly overcome.
Damsels left in distress,
while prince charming clears his glass.
Like Alice through the rabbit hole,
living in a dream.
Drink up.
Shrink down.
Forget all.

I fell asleep to the sound of your screaming,
the melancholic melodies of our sinister love.
I woke shrouded in silence;
the dark room shifted and squirmed around me.
My hands groped the sheets for you
but were left wanting.

The sun comes up
and I’m still waiting.
The room now a temple of hate,
an auditorium of ludicrous lamentations

Too late for recess from the pain
too tangled in a cancerous web of thoughts
too late

-our sweet wine now vinegar.

tangent lines
stretching
searching for our function

'the derivative of instantaneous change'
a solution for the epidemic that is loneliness.

a cyclical road map to nothingness
littered with fragments of do not enter signs
swimming through a sea of crumpled paper
my ink stained hands ***** walls of judgment
the ever rasping door scrapes open with hesitation
hello fear, I’ve been expecting you.

no time for formalities
fingers bent back
mouth taped shut
mind strapped down

and in the distance, the monitor bleeps its disapproval,
“sorry, we’re not interested in your work at this time"

i am a blow fish,
i am a porcupine,
i am the poison mushroom,
  the girl your mother warned you about.

i am the rabbit,
  and the hole.
i am the last drink before you forget.
i am the sunburn,
  on an overcast day.
i am everything you'll never be.

forgive i do not.
forget i can not.
foot so far out the door,
  all you see is my shadow.
persistence will fail you,
  ends of wits is all ill bring you.

On a bed of harmony,
   your past lovers mourn.
A foundation of laments,
  waxing and waning.
Burdened by history,
  the future fades.
Control the composure,
keep dark thoughts at bay.
Even the walls of the strongest castles
crack and give way.

You speak in metaphors
   lies dribbling down your chin
Sword fight with syllables from long forgotten prose
     backwards beliefs your armor
     faux frailty your shield
Couplets carefully constructed to keep your composure.
Monosyllabic sympathies concealing your cancerous truths.

How long will your *** boil
      wretched witches brew
Silver sticky lids spill over
      a waterfall of ironies.

shame is a garment of sorrow
threatening to rattle our equilibrium

pre-solstice jitters
bereft of an altitude

loves lisp
resting on forgotten forevers

                                                          who wants a life like that?

come get yours
while i;m drowning in this fixture
take your time in the half-life

the pills that pose a purpose

postulate your position
poison to this far too precious heart-

There are galaxies between our eyes
Neurons bend and snap,
waiting for our eyes to meet.

And now, I could walk for days without knowing if you followed.
I could forget you
I could

The rings left behind don't fit around a finger,
Cardinal and crimson,
They mock and ******.
Your convictions fall away with no sense of gravity.
It’s the big bang, and we’re just collateral damage.

Messy and unforgiving,
the convulsions of life.
Breathing life in through limbs outstretched.
Waiting for the savior,
convoluting realities.
Past and present are in the waiting room,
thoughts and feelings untethered.
Patience forgotten,
the doctor long gone.

He does not bring a ring.

Nor lilies,

but doom.

A gift
to hang around your neck,
a notarized noose of possessive vernacular.

There's no one to save here.
All there is left is truth,

                                                                   the past is rotting in the future
                                                                   while my war torn psyche
                                                                   waves its white flag-

the hapless half-life of our limerence
hemorrhaging hope in the waiting room

                           “take a seat”

      “the doctor will be with you shortly”

chart up my insides

luminescent display of shortcomings.

                                                  ­                  


                            reasons you'll find to walk...

Where I’m from
the cat gets disowned for her curiosity,
but not before a lengthy trial
a litany of pejoratives
testament to synonyms.

Where I’m from
the persecution does not end
until the pyre has been built,
a verdict conceived of perceived faults and failures.

Where I’m from
singularity is superfluous.
You’re only as good as the clarity and carats
of boulder you shoulder with a Colgate Smile.


…


Where I’m from
I will be publishing
under pseudonym:
a witness to individuality in need of protection.

Were living in the half light
Falling for the dead
Yearning for The Swoon

Our affair became
my Swan Song

lets not pray to the crescent
lets keep waiting
waning and wandering
stumbling through cycles
til the final bow
sowing seeds of a future
in our drought.