I want to write again
I want to feel
Like I did back then
When my day depended
On the words I had chosen
-- The life I put
In my poems

I want to write again
I want to feel
The thrill of the pen
The delight that rushes through my veins
When the right words blend
The pain I endure
Once my thoughts
No longer make sense

I am exhilarated
When I start
Scribbling on paper
My heart at peace
As soon as I polish it
On my typewriter

I write again
I write
Like nothing ever happened
Like not a thing prevented me
Months at an end

I write again

I write
Because it is who I am
Because in time,
I always return
To my essence
-- That in the end,
Nothing feels quite right
Unless I am writing.

maybe,
we both believe that it's just a word
and it can't possibly make up for all the damage
we cause time after time
to once again claim we're sorry

so, neither of us ever expected an apology
nor demanded one.

maybe,
we realise that it's unknowingly promising
to not repeat the same mistake
therefore, we choose to not disappoint each other
with the hope of sorry

so, neither of us expected an apology
nor demanded one.

maybe,
you know that your words can hurt me
but you say them anyway,
because there are times when I'm just as cruel
and we'd rather be equally destructive
than sorry

so, neither of us expected an apology
nor demanded one.

You are hollow and sharp--
        not exactly hollow, but full of holes
        where your guts should be.

You are rust and cruelty,
all ancient bloodstains and missing
hunks of steel.

You are afraid of your angles
        the wicked serrations of your tongue.

You lick your own wounds
to taste blood wondering if
it really tastes like you at all
or more like the leftover bits of flesh
still stuck between your crooked teeth.

        But you don't frighten me, Bonesaw;
               your razor blade arms are nothing but home.

Won’t you slip into
the drapes of my collarbone
and nestle kissing my throat.
I’ll breathe a quiet moan
you’ll unbutton my cotton coat.

Close me inside the walls
that are dusty from lack of use
locked from adolescent abuse,
and dimmed inside we’ll retreat
to kiss where our eyes don’t meet.

I promise to stop loving you tomorrow
but for tonight let me put my head
on your shoulder

I promise to forget you tomorrow
but for tonight we can get high on
the velvet porch

I promise to stop loving you tomorrow
but tonight let’s pretend
it isn’t tomorrow

I found you between touches on screens
through swiping on pocket machines
and I met you in the long shadow of sunset
you smoked a cigar and I a cigarette

We put the stars in our eyes
and found ufos and Russian spies
and gave ourselves to the not knowing
but knowing this wanting to keep going

So at one am we kissed at Chevron
with a smirking cashier looking on
and I did so without a second thought
because, honestly, how could I not?