The way you said my name,
like it was heavy in your mouth
yet worth its weight in vibrancy,
worth the strain a single syllable
caused an undulating tongue
such as yours, that rippling
pink squid beating a solid
leather drum to carve me
into existence, explode the
air into a sweltering thrum,
like you had licked the naked
off my skin and melded  
negative space and clammy
saliva onto scaffolding
lining the roof of your mouth,
carved an arc of sound
only I could fit through,
you said my name  
like you meant it,
like you loved me,
you knew what it meant
and cherished it no less
and because of that,
so did I.

Her eyebrows are switchblades
My unknown fate her whisper-silver-steel
Dagger breathing intricately carved nows,
Tomorrows lose meaning when her hair
Tastes like smoke fists like ashes
She looks and the signs
Are a fractal explosion
Holding all that I have been.

Won’t you laugh, won’t you frown?
Won’t your whisper-silver-steel?
This is my hand, each ridge
Means I have weathered a storm
Each valley a piece of me gouged
This is my hand, take it,
Take my tomorrow.
Divine, improvise
and whisper, just beware
not to speak out loud.

Fresh air hitting newborn lungs
lodged in a memory
made of mealworms.

Chalking dirt between
serrated incisors.

The day I asked a new girl to be my girlfriend
you left a note at my house signed "love,"
telling me you were infinitely sorry.

Some things just don't have an explanation.

There is a knife in my throat
chalking chords between scratched teeth,
words ground down to chunks of flesh,
they never last,
taste like the last
of something we had.

When I kissed your face
in my bedroom
there was no golden crust of light
you gave me head
and I didn't ***,
over the next year I fell in love
it tasted
like blood in my mouth
there is a knife
in my throat,
you placed it delicately
as if you'd be back
to pull it out
with hands still warm
from
spreading another's pulse
and stroking down the center
with one finger.

I said all the words I knew
hoping you'd hear some you liked,
I made a collage of spittle
and stringy voice box
from my insides you didn't come back
so your note
is noted but there is no "us" curled up
in grand central station,
no eyes glowing,
and there is nothing left to say, but

it hurt in a way I was not ready to know
and came
from a direction
I had never believed in.

Thanks for the golden days,
most of them were,
i'm sorry I crumpled so easily
I don't think i'll ever be the same,
that's a good thing
but you had to know you had to know
what I didn't
and someday you'll grow up,
it'll hurt,
it's worth it.

But goodbye meant goodbye.

pain lacing my
back is
normal these
days

pressure at
the edge of my
throat- an
old
friend

I am
strong I
am strength

a mantra
that's losing juice
like a
battery in

the attic late
july.

if eyes are my
windows,
I need new
shades.

And I will kiss your shoulders,
When they are bare and
Wanting for a kiss.  
I will twine myself deep into your hair
And pull,
Until the back of your neck prickles
With delight.

I will creep in a single stream of honey
When you wrap in your shades and shutters
And pour golden, sticky sweet
Directly into your heart.

I will get lost amongst some cloud or mountain
(You cannot blame me, for as I do
you do often, too.)
And just when you have forgotten
How I warm those certain spots you knew not existed
As I creep through the blinds as you bathe,
Illuminating where you are broken, or soft,
I show myself,
In all bright and shining splendour.
You will forget me not.

I will let you indulge in me,
Take me in until you flake and rip
In chunks of bitter rust.
I will delight in how I eat away
At what once was white and pure.

Come night, I will leave to those
With sharper tongues and bigger hooks,
And you will be cold.

You will claw at the walls on which I once shone,
And with bleeding fingers
Rest amongs the grasshoppers and watch,
Waiting for my reflection in the new moon.