The violence of my vast imagination
wraps around me,
grabs a hold of me,
tight,
tightly,
tighter,
until there is nothing left.

I surveyed from my electric piano
Seated in monotonous comfort
In the skewed seat of a classroom, to the left
In my orb of scrutiny
The light was yellow and thin
Each child seemingly no good
Sewing away at their desks, the days literature
One of them contorted, still feet facing forward
Her petite waist shifted mechanically and geared to a stop in my direction
In native culture, her spirit would be something feline and pleased  
It was in her focused grey stare, fluorescing milky blue
Her iris’s de-crystalized and oscillated in thick Rorschach drops  
As the spell was cast I remained, seated in observation
Wanting to style her maniacal lips
Our thoughts made love in a cloud above this sea of starving fish

Half-moons turn to full as my eyes flutter open
The white hot light is disorienting.
My fingernails are the first thing I notice
They’re clean.
Clean has been distant for months.
My hair is combed and cut
And I’m all wrapped up in ivory.

But they forgot to bandage my memory.
It’s still oozing and crusted with sickening pain.
And I can remember their cries and angelic faces still.
And then they turned empty,
Like those grown-ups who used to putter around on Mondays.
At least they’ve got hunger for life now.
And as these trailing thoughts leave my mind,
I remember that I’m not alone.
Not all was lost after that apocalyptic crisis,
Where all I’ve ever known turned to a rotting, dead end.

His face will be forever embedded in my mind.
He and I made it out.
We were plucked out of the ground like two white roses in a field of weeds.
Saved like two animals for Noah’s Ark.

We, are all that’s left of origin,
All that’s left of our kind.

So before it was too late,
They rescued our scorned skins.
And we flew up into that blue sky,
And we just left them there.
We left that fair skinned freckled boy,
That lanky knobby kneed kid,
And that dark haired round eyed little girl,
We left everyone that ever was.

God.

I wish there was.
He’d breathe us in and never let go.
Never let those demons touch us.
Never let them sink their rotted teeth into her tiny neck.
Those *******.
Limping around seeking blood,
Looking for lives to demolish.

If you’re reading this now
I hope you’re not running from rotted versions of your friends,
I hope you’re sitting at home on your plush pillowed sofas
Puttering around on Mondays.

Skating on moments of contact
and spinning in soul exposing leaps
propelling through fun times and laughter
till hitting a divit and falling.

The fall is so cold and jarring
and I slide for a little while after
then I try to get up on those blades of persistence
and take one more glide and move on.

How many times can I trip up and fall?
Stumble on romance and crush?
One of these days I may just give it up
when I realize all that I lost.

There isn't a single thing tangible
to vision or to the touch
on the list of the things that I lost
when I slipped on the sheet of love.

I didn't lose money or items
you didn't take any cold cash
the things that I did lose: confidence, emotion
I lost because you never knew.

I am a useless being,
Really.
It's grim to think,
I know.
Because I'm just living to die
In this vessel that wills
But will eventually tucker out,
And then what matters?
Certainly I don't.
Not in this vast universe
That doesn't care
If you're in love or all alone,
If you've got a nice house
In the wasteland of suburbia
Or if you waste every ounce of yourself
Because you know,
You're just going to die anyways.
And anyways what's a life wasted exactly
If we can't even figure out what the meaning is?

words can poison.
when young we read fairy tales and fantasies,
fans of fictitious fables.
when "taught" religion we are immediately placed into a mind-trap,
with heavenly reward
and hellish repercussion.
allow independence
abolish imprisonment
words can cure.