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Christopher KD Mar 2015
I like to think
you could love me;
scars, bruises, and  all.
Every notion of your being;
the charcoal that feeds this flame.
Pulsing. Radiant. Throwing  heat  from
thick  cast  iron  walls—  my  heart:
Cellar­-ridden,  half concealed.
Juvenile-  petty in nature.
Still, capable  of  love.
Of this, I am certain.
Regardless, I can
never offer the
love that you
Christopher KD Mar 2015
Shirtless, barefoot, and
reeking of self-loathe;
he sat in silence
at the edge of his mattress.
Studying the black
lettering on the face of
the prescription bottle
through bloodshot eyes.
His name indicated in bold
just above the RX number.

Aloud he read the words
Amphetamine Salts
To the layman- adderall:
A quick fix for your
run of the mill '*****-up'.
But to him it meant yet
another night without sleep.
One more night away from his demons.
Without the crippling nightmares;
The reoccurring remembrance
of events no longer (if even ever)
within his immediate control.
Glancing over at the clock-
counting quickly on fingers,
he’d figured it’d been about
sixty-four hours since his last sleep.

The lack of rest accompanied by
excessive alcohol consumption,
was making things hazy.
Days bled into one another.
His eyes started playing tricks.
Now sitting up straight,
he applied pressure to the
childproof lid, and twisted.
Plunging his fingers into the bottle,
removing two more pills,
he held them for a moment—
Then, with the help of a
flat, warm, beer swallowed
another twelve guaranteed
hours without sleep.

Laying back, legs hanging
off the edge of the bed
muscles aching,
stomach growling,
eyeballs burning;
content in knowing
he'd die before ever
facing that dream again.
Christopher KD Mar 2015
Applauded the jokes,
Then stabbed the jester.
Hushed our laughter,
The games were all over.
Manic man in our home;
Reeked of gin- our father.
He then made that B-line
Straight for our mother.

Hands tight on her neck;
It was blood he was after.
Her face turning blue.
My skin growing hotter.
Not one second to spare,
Sister's eyes welled with water.
I sprinted out to the truck and
Grabbed the old mans revolver.
Calmly walked back inside, and
Painted the walls with our father.

Momma cold on the ground…
We couldn’t wake her from slumber.
I swore at god all **** night
For not making me stronger.
They gave me five years in a ward,
And my poor sister to foster.
Christopher KD Mar 2015
Her ginger.
Limp handshake.
Cacophonous  laugh.
Features, disproportionate.
In most ways- narrow minded.
Exceedingly self-assured.
Without money he is
No better than I.
Loving she:

here I stand.
Clinging to the bottle.
Watching the years pass by.
Alone atop this cold, cobble, stoop;
Coat covered in cigarette ash.
I don’t think of  you—
or  at  least  I
try  not

quite dead…
However, not entirely
alive either. And I made a sincere
effort to climb out of the plot you left me in;
but darling that hole you dug me was  ******* deep!
And the only tool you’d left me was that ****
bottle; which for a short while helped.
Until eventually, like you,
it consumed
I  awaken,
only to find that I’m
no longer capable of feeling;
and what a great disappointment this
is to me. It would seem as though my receptors,
synapses, neurotransmitters, etc- have flickered and fried.
Dopamine, will no longer travel within these
useless,  dried-up,  old veins of mine.
Evidently my demise, resultant
of a life lived alone
in a faster
Its been a long time since I've written something that I'm this happy with. I hope everyone enjoys reading this piece as much as I enjoyed writing it.

-Christopher K.D.
Christopher KD Mar 2015
They'll find me hanging upside-down.
Ankles bruised by the ropes
From which you strung me up for field dressing.
Lacerations where you’d cut my throat,
Bled me dry, spilt my guts,
And broke past my ribs, to uproot my heart.
Can they carbon date the remains of my reputation?
Trace the ****** back to your mouth?

Will they know the cause of death to be the
Malignant rumors you couldn’t help but spew?
Your false words: the final nail in my coffin.
Do you regret ever letting them past your lips?
Slowly, my reputation crippled by the aggressive
Cancer that was your embellished utterance.

And it didn’t bother you in the slightest.
You marveled at the sight of my struggle.
And amazing how these things seem to spread.
One caustic, contagious, breath from you was all it took.
Though the slanderous virus wouldn't make it 'til morning;
Addicts to their fix; gossips, crave your empty words.
Like *******, the rush is intense but brief.
Interest fleeting, they move on.
Off to the next peddler.

For all these inconveniences, I thank you.
Thank you for lifting the masks that curtained your distorted self.
How blind I must have been not to see it outright.
Another leech, feeding on slighted words.
And to think; all it costed you to buy in
Was me...
Christopher KD Mar 2015
Pursuing yet another parabolic
Crawl across the clear, blue, summer sky
The sun started its journey at the horizon.
Radiating—  Forcing its warm, orange, light
Through venetian blinds; the glowing celestial body
Painted her naked, flawless, skin
With stripes of contrasting light as she slept.

He watched her quietly as the shadows
Manifesting between each strip of light, inched
Across her skin in unison with the suns trajectory.
Ever so slightly opening her sleep-crusted eyes
She looked up at him, yawed gently, smiled and
Rolled over to position her body against his.

Her narrow, freckled face, rested easily
In the crevice between his arm and chest.
Letting out one more yawn, her emerald, green,
Eyes fell back behind their lashed curtains of flesh;
Dozing off into the next satisfying slumber.

The ceiling fan above clicked and waved erratically
But offered no relief from the hot, humid air.
Perspiring slightly, her skin remnant of morning dew.
In those last few minutes of direct, morning, light
Right before the sun left the scope of their window
He couldn't help but think that this was it.
This was love, and he was trapped.
Christopher KD Feb 2015
Perhaps it was my own fault;
Letting her ever get that close.
Inviting her underneath my skin
Where she'd gnaw at my bones.
The dichotomy, while blatant,
Fell to eyes under strain.
Her beauty was blinding.
My world suddenly dimmed.
Her voice, ever charming,
All other sound fell to mute.
My old heart, her new hobby;
Another puppet, abused.
Douse your half of the fire,
Yet mine still rages on.
Though I’m new to the subject,
I'll call what we had ‘love’.
But if ever again I feel heartbreak:

Dear God,
**** me young
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