In the chapel of condemnation.
On the cold checkerboard tiles I was kneeling.
Forced to repent for innocence, la vida, papi.
I was a diamond in the rough.
And for the sake of acceptance I was bleeding.
But I didn’t need nobody.

It was forever night and I was blue forever.
My halo cracked in half or so I inferred.
I was singing over water running, head below water.
But I was singing to you instead.

I’m the bereaved, la vida, papi.
But you don’t need nobody.

You can’t just please everybody.
I’m my soul, my mind, my body.

The darkness was slain by monstrance.
In the chapel of condemnation I was bound to.
With a chain around the columns, la vida, papi.
It was a complex of gothic towers.
It was a matter of liberation.
And I didn’t need nobody.

For I willingly went into the darkest tunnel there.
Unafraid of the witch at the church front gates.
I just saw the moon and I wanted to come alive again.
Would you have done if you were slowly withering away?

I’m the stained, la vida, papi.
Tainted and ****** bohemian for life, daddy.
They held me down and indebted me.
But I don’t need nobody then.
I don’t need nobody now.
I don’t need no one, amen.

I’m dichromatic, dual, duplex.
But I’ll love you all the same.
I’m just unsure if you hate or love me.
Wonder that crying into the drain.

You were the first of them.
In the beginning it was just us.
And you were the worst of them.
My genesis, the wildest card.
I sang for you at the shower head.
I knew I overdid it.
But if you knew how much I needed
you.

But if you sent for me, my love,
I’d always be your love.
I would have done everything for you.
I adored you.
And if you needed me, my love,
I’d always guard your heart.
All I’m saying I’d lived for you.
Only for you.
And if Barbara Millicent Roberts was a man,
oh yeah.

I was walking by the houses.
Took your hand like a communion wafer.
Wore a dark veil for my flaws.
And for cuts on my face like paper.
God, he made me feel like a freak.
But I was too in love to care about that.
It wasn’t Eden, was barren and bleak.
Blade into heart when I woke up after.

You were my main reason to live.
And a potential reason for my death.
Your love was unhealthy like drugs.
My death certificate, my love confession.
But I yearned for light.
And light came to me.
I turned to cry.
No one turned to me.
And you were the beginning of my poetic voyage, idiot.
I can’t say you weren’t cause you were, and I thank you for it.

But if you didn’t turn my love
down, I’d always be your love.
And if Barbara Millicent Roberts was a man…

I was in the Hollywood Hills somewhere.
And baby I was feeling peaceful there.
Sitting in the back of a Starline car.
Drive wasn’t long, didn’t take me far.
I don’t really care now,
under the same sky with supernovas.
Been to hell and heaven now,
feeling alive since I got over.

Mount Lee.
Everything.
Everybody.
Red, yellow and pink.
Stan Lee.
Never seen.
But I believed.
Angels visit Earth frequently.
Sipping sangrias, driving Bentley.
Venice ***** on repeat it’s my way to get over everything, anything.
I’m drinking.

I met someone down at the Walk of Fame.
Hurt for too long, was it worth the wait?
Soon I’m packing up, leaving this city.
Thinking about her cause really she saved me.
I saw the sky turn dark blue.
Scared thinking I wasn’t honest.
Eclipse that later ensued.
Made me get over time another.

Peg, pick up the phone.
I’m not quoting you this time.
Peg, I’m home alone.
Falling off the edge of crying.
I failed, yes.
But I made me a life worth living.
I survived worse things and I’m still here.
I’m still not gone and I’m still here.

Mount Lee.
Dollar bills.
******.
Hard rain, rough wind.
Chun-Li.
Memories.
Things I’ve never seen.
Demons visit Earth frequently.
Emptying JD, driving Lambs and ****.
Hellfire’s on repeat it’s my way to get over everything, anything.
I’m still here.

86 Vee is a handsome man.
If you don’t believe me, go and see yourself.
His devotion - endless.
His commitment - endless.
No one believed me when I called him dangerous.

He sometimes went down and talked to his obsessed fans.
He even had a crown, but I tell you, I had to bounce.

He was a cult,
cult leader.
Of a cult,
cult he led.
I ****** up twice, couldn’t resist.
Been a long time, no word of him.
But on my life, I’m sure he’s still going.
They’re dumbly falling for he’s so loving
His cult,
cult bitter.
Like a cold,
cold winter.

86 Vee is a destructive man.
Every move of his, to my bones I felt.
Forced my knees bent.
Forced my letter sent.
Heard it happens every now and then.

He spread religion that went viral, slowly coiling around the world.
I couldn’t fathom their fascination, so I left him to avoid war.

He was a cult,
cult leader.
Of a cult,
cult he led.

Don’t you see how dangerous you are?
How the girls fall when you swing the door open?
You gotta put that cigarette out.
Gotta let me do my own thing.
There’s no use in talking to somebody drunk on his own ego.
Who adores the sound of bodies dropping on the floor.
Brush their hand against his and romanticize it.
I chased that high, it desensitized me.

You know the rest.

If this were a song, I’d hush at the thought of singing it.
And if this were a poem, I’d close my eyes to not see it.
There’s a graveyard of fruit flies trapped inside a painting.
Behind a layer of glass.
From a few springs ago.
At this moment I’m having this sweet epiphany.
Like balloons my worries are aloft.
At the thought of falling back into the dark depths of my mind I’d run where one won’t find me.
I’m just bored of being afraid.
Letting it ruin my day.
My fears are only as strong as I let them be.
And I don’t feel like they’ll grow stronger if I just let them be.
If I were someone else, I’d give me a hug and say something nice.
If I had given up, I wouldn’t have been so hopeful after a fight.
Someone dear to me said “Don’t give up on yourself”.
No matter how hard it gets.
And I’m not gonna fall back down again into the depths.
I’m just bored of being scared.

Troy says beach walks are all the rage.
I’m a city kind of guy.
He could play guitar till the end of day.
And I’d drink beer till night.
He hates to vape and I really hate it.
That strawberry smoke tastes better when he exhales it.
I’m chopping wood to keep up the fire.
Fire lasts, feeling expires.
What now?
He treats me like the weaker one.
He treats me like the weaker one.
He treats me like the weaker one.
And the RV doesn’t feel like home.

I wanna remain faithful.
Make him happy but I can’t.
Pour grenadine into his glass with a shaky hand.
He tells me to chill.
But knows **** well I can’t.
I wanna hold onto him but I can’t even hold myself.

I don’t wanna go on a roadtrip or the store that’s a couple miles away.
I’m good overthinking, smoking, swimming at the shore of the bay.
I feel the sand falling down in between my fingers on the ground.
Does he mind a reassurance ******’s rant, I hate that sound.

Troy thinks that the bygone era’s gone by for good.
I’m all that’s left.
I need just Joni and a whiskey to touch down.
He likes grass instead.
He hates to show off and I’m losing patience.
God, if he could just manspread on the chair and let me watch.
I’ll just wash clothes in the river and live on.
Without him or with him.
What now?
I got a whole country to cross.
I got a whole country to cross.
I got a whole country to cross.
Cause one plus half ain’t two.

I love how his hair comes down.
How he lets me down.
It’s so attractive.
I love him with his glasses on.
That just turns me on.
Like a light switch.

I wanna remain faithful
I wanna remain-
I wanna remain faithful
I wanna remain-
Sorry if I come out hateful
But you get in my way
I’d give you all my warmth
But you’re pushing me away

I’m a bad, bad, bad, bad case.
You keep pushing me away.
I wanna remain-
I should’ve remained-
I’m a bad, bad, bad, bad case.
You keep pushing me away.
I wanna remain-
I should’ve remained faithful.

i sit next to that vintage candelabra, that i found in the attic,
i get a pen and a blank page on which i write what i think,
when i’m done i rethink and rewrite my poetry with blood on a parchment,
but i get distracted by the church bells ringing from 2 streets away,
it gets louder and louder,
at times they sound like ******* racing cars on tracks,
then they get quieter,
they sound like sunken singers, hitting high notes from underwater,
in the meantime demons escape from the catacombs,
hidden deep beneath the chapel,
and put gargoyles to life,
and all of that - 2 streets away,
i turn off that vintage candelabra, but i keep on writing,
i listen closely to my pen’s sounds and try to imagine them louder,
want them to be louder than racing cars,
louder than a rocket blasting off,
i write so fast and it feels so loud, that i enter a different dimension,
a world where matter is made of words,
i want to stay there forever, whenever i get there,

that’s exactly how to disappear
c o m p l e t e l y
a  n  d
n   e   v   e   r
b    e
f      o     u     n     d.