I either want to love you or die. No in-between.

i was holding on and scripting it out.
i fought away my doubts and finalized my plan.
you were mine, I was convinced and consumed.
you knew my plans, could guess my thoughts.
you agreed indifferently, while I toiled away.
little did I know that as I forged your name,
made it into a pact, you resolved to beat me down.
you snuck away from my sick little plan.
now you're a refugee of a fairy tale that's
eroding into bits of dust - an archaic glimmer,
now dulled with time that still asks me
why and
what now?

There are tongues
hidden away
inside cabinets,
fingers pressed
between the floorboards,
members ******
into dresser drawers --

You caressed them
lovingly,
every tooth
and freckle
turned over
in your memory,
you play them over
as you sleep

And every
once in awhile,
their faces
gulp to life
beneath your chest,
and maybe
your heart beat
quickly
for a moment,
and you whispered
to yourself:

thank god,
this day
has finally
come

--

His kindergarten
dreams
his sugar sweet
mouth
his cream soft
tongue,
they succumbed
to you like beasts
trapped beneath
the riverbed

You let them float,
dry tongues hang out
between bloodied lips,
you touched their lips
in the darkness
and the dance
continued
until morning

And later, caught
up in the nightmare
you stared into
the sky. Maybe
the full moon reached
out and touched you,
maybe you smiled

But you said,
thank god;
thank god I am
the man I am

--

And something made you,
starstuff shaped and twisted
until they formed those fingers,
those hands those eyes
the brows that would furrow
in the darkness of that closet

until it came down
over your head
and as the memories
surged through
your mind?

I hope they
came first,
one wailing scream
pushing
through your heart
before you succumbed

thank god,
thank god

I woke up at the end of the line.
The new section of the track
brought me to party town.
A man was sitting next to me.
He smelled of *** and fake lemons.
A variety of things cluttered around him.
Two lottery ticket stubs lay on the floor,
one partly hidden under an old Michael Jordan shoe.
He won four dollars.
A mobile phone lay
trapped under a cage of fingers
on the seat beside him.
It buzzed a few times, he didn’t move.
I checked the time,
11:14.
Perfect, just another half hour ride home.

Silent thunderous flash and blink
awake into another vision
melting lucid in realization
of a world of simple repeating gestures
all the former things unending held
soft, unfocussed what could be
forever in this gentle bed
until alarmed my heavy head
strikes the work day morning square
to live a truth I am aware
fails to compare to the dream.

i think its weird
the cacophony and the swirling
bodies that ritualistically
converse and bend.
almost as if they were taught it.

They sit next to you on the train
The bus
The desk next to yours
you pass them everyday
They laugh with their friends
smile at jokes
who they are is hard to see
from the captain of chess
to the queen bee
From the girl who hides behind her *******
To the boy with alcohol on his breathe
No one looks
past the red eyes or *** stained sheets
No one sees whats hidden
In that perfect outfit
what lies behind that smile
hidden darkness buried in them all
from the school *****
to the stoner god
They all hide that single flaw
From the class president
To the ballet star
We see them all
The musical prodigy wasting away
To the redundant poet trying to make it through the day
No one can see the lonely

You smile and laugh,
Lightness incarnate.
I think about corrupting you.
I want to feel your skin sweat under my fingers, 
Watch your muscles clench.
I'd **** to bring a moan out of you,
Die to hear a grunt.
I want to taste your hostility,
Heated and ashamed.
I will rip your evil forth.
To see it spill through you,
Oh.
I bite my lip.
The levees are cracking,
I can see it in your eyes.

theres a train that rolls through town everyday at 3:34.
it comes through, minding its own business,
like it just dont wanna see or talk to anyone.
thats how mr. hudson is too.
he sits behind the grocery store chewing
sunflower seeds until they get all dried up
and they look like hay in his mouth.
atleast i thought they were sunflower seeds...maybe he is chewing hay?
either way, he's a lonely fella.
he might be older than my paps, and thats **** near a hundred.
he wears glasses, work boots, and the same pair a pants every single day.
nobody looks at him,
and i think its a 'cause he wants to be invisible.
i reckon he hates the world...rightly so if ya ask me.
the world aint nothin but a cold, cruel place for a man like mr. hudson.
he dont have no wife, no kids, no job, no home, or no friends to speak of.
growing up, my friends and i always wondered about mr. hudson.
day in and day out, we'd walk past him on the way to school,
tellin ghost stories bout how we knew he musta killed someone...
why else would he be so lonely and sad?
one day, i was walkin by myself near the train tracks.
i could feel it comin, vibrations were ticklin my bare feet on the soft grass.
must be 3:34.
the grocery store was on my left, and i 'spected to see mr. hudson sittin there per usual,
but he wasnt.
up ahead i seen somethin so odd, so unusual, i didnt know what to make of it.
mr. hudson was standin there on the tracks with his arms spread out like some sorta bird,
and that 3:34 train just about plowed right through him.
that was the last time anybody ever saw mr. hudson,
im the only one who knows what happened to him.
i let him go alone, just like he lived his life.
i aint never spoke to him before,
but i bet thats how he wanted it.

That's it!!
I'm done...