Oh, how I love to
            light you up
       Watch you slowly burn
            Writhing
       between my finger
I know my love for you
         is slowly killing me
     But I enjoy watching you suffer
                    Filling my lungs
             Watching the smoky
      Leftovers of your soul
Float into the air
         I breathe you in so deeply
               Deep inside me
     Then slowly let you out
             Over and Over
        I created you
              I've made you who you are
Then I devour you
        Oh, how I love the taste of you
     The scent of you
                The fact that you're bad for me
         Just makes you all the more enticing
       Like life and everything
                 If you were good for me
          You wouldn't be so **addicting

I said to my love,
in the waning spring
before yet children we bore,
"I will return dearest one,
fear you not, surrounded I am
by the songs and hopes of yore".

And yet never again walked I,
that path wandering
and beautiful at twilight
to our home in mystic hills
whispering truths and sighs.

For I, grown weary,
and forgetful by drink and blood,
cannot remember who I was then,
nor what even the touch of
that heav'n she gave
tasted of.

Our home,
a fleeting memory,
her face fading swiftly,
as a tearing and a burning
a sorrow and a yearning
swallow the magic,
our love once knew.

She cries late
                  every night
     Turns off all the
                           lights
         Sits in bed
bawls
             her eyes out
      in the dark
Cutting out pieces
      of her heart
No one can see
                          the scars
           of her sewing
back up her chest
       Soon she will be
             an empty shell
        Hopefully
                    putting her soul to rest
If her heart
                    is no longer there
It can't get broken,
              right?
If no one can see
                          the tears
Then she never cried,
                     right?

a learning experience
- the detailed
timing and precision

- a certain etiquette
in the rise and fall
of hands and feet

i learned the walk
- mirrored on the toe
of a spit-shined boot

shooting imaginary doves
in white gloves -

the proper fold
of the cloth
- tight and taught
with stars above

the tri-fold - not
a trifling thing we're told

the color of a mother's tears
and grip of a father's grief -
the why in the cry of a child

- sad song of the bugler
on a windswept hill
standing in the detail.

r ~ 10/29/14

Or should I say ride?
Should I say rather,
burning down the highway far too fast and wishing that maybe
just maybe I could find it out there somewhere
that was place where I could stop existing.

So I push the boundaries
push so hard to get through this unreality
drugs and ***** and ***
or alternatively
faith, religion and morality?

I've walked both ways
the straight and narrow
as well as the crooked and wide
and NOTHING has ever satisfied
the burning need to feel
alive.

So tell me readers and writers
inform me if you please
or perhaps sell me something
gimme some peyote or holy water
anything and everything
to explain why in all this self-induced rage
He has yet to simply let me die?

Because something inside is not of me
a two faced fiend with no imagination
and a jealous heart looking on the world
with scorn and derision,
knowing that there is a world out there
that I can see but will never be.

And apparently no one can teach me what to do
can't seem to inform how to simply be
seemingly the easiest of acts
but some hole in my soul
will not allow me to achieve.

Please* don't misunderstand me
I know this had to be done, things
were growing more rotten by the day
and sudden amputation was our only choice, but

I still feel you, like
fingers grazing skin, I feel you
like a heart that never left this chest
I still feel you, and

Though we had to cut away
the decayed flesh of what is
I am still trapped thinking about
what was, and what could have been

My heart is still full of tomorrows
and I need you to know
I will never love again, not the way I loved you
never that way

Each path before, led me to you  
but somewhere along the way, we took a detour
and I can't stop thinking; Is this how it ends?
is this the way true love was meant to die?

Severed heart, bleeding out within my hand?
I'm only human, and there is a limit
to how much pain I can endure
and even though you're gone

*I can still feel you beating in my chest

I don't want you to say you love me because I only want the truth
I don't want you to say you can't live without me because that's too much to lose
I'd like you to say you want me, desire me, even after all the things I've been through
Because in reality, that's all I really need from you
I can live without the love unless it's really the truth
You can live without me, I'm not much to lose
But desire, want, need...  To touch, to feel, to taste...  That would make my day,
Not being desired, well..  It makes me wanna waste away
Although I think I love you, never knowing your touch...  
To actually never feel your skin, might just be too much
I don't need love, honestly... I'm not worth it anyways
But if I knew you desired me, intimately, it would get me through my days.
Lust on fingertips is better than love from lying lips