You are so much to lose;
and for how I've gained
I'll accept all your burdens,
sorrow and pain;
but is it worth it for you?
with all my mistakes
I know they've caused you

melancholy and disdain.


It's mid-December,

but it feels like spring
such as the world, we are an
odd, complicated thing.


I just can't see you seeping
anything useful from me.
I am the raging forest fire that

mercilessly swept across the trees.


Lovely,

I don't mean to burn you,
I simply try to breathe


I can't help that it's within my nature
to destroy everything I meet


in time
with a heavy laden heart
my love

you'll fall to ashes at my feet.

too much

           too soon.

  



        She burnt the trees-
and spent the moon


                        now her little
                    life is full of gloom



    too much,

too soon.

stone's throw.
lone crow, bent,
perched, on the back fence.
sometimes, i feel the warm
bent of misery,
washing, ocean's
leagues, untied, into
graceful plays, like
the hue shift of afternoons.
under clouds, feet shuffle
over n around n don't find
meaning out there in gutters
or supermarkets. it
is heavy but bearable.
                                                                                                           arcing over,
                                                                                            sky's cover, oblique,
                                                                                     hangs on the valleymist.
                                                                                 some days, feeling the soft
                                                                                                       hiss of static, i
                                                                                                          smile, out of
                                                                                            habit, or leaflitter, or
                                                                                               every vastness, like
                                                                          our echoes through space seem.
                                                                                     under canopy, feet rustle
                                                                              about, all muddied n finding
                                                       meaning don't matter, out here in hollows
                                                                                                     or grainfields. it
                                                                                       is dizzying yet bearable.

I'm not here
I'm not here
I'm not here


It's just happening
I'm just hurting
Aching, to not feel
the pain.

But,
I'm not here

This isn't real

This isn't happening

Who am I

a weightless soul

drifting by in the sky.

You fall a thousand times, and each
one, I'll pick you up.
hundreds of knives dropped from sky
high and I look
everywhere but up.

I'm burying my soul I'm digging my grave I'm getting too
**** attached to save myself,
and I am only to blame.
I don't want to trust and I don't need to know I don't need anyone
I just need to be alone,
even though I loath...

The walls whispering in the night, the sheets around my throat too tight, the most comforting things bringing me to my very brink of terror.

They well tears in my eyes
and raise the tiny hairs across my
pale arms.

They're coming for me, but
don't be alarmed,

you can't see them so
they shan't cause you any harm.

they're in my closet
they're in my bed
they're in my kitchen
they're in my head.