The prince of the
underworld
A land whose up is down
Had a hammering heart
A noise that won’t quiet
Down

Shunned and despised by
the rest
He clawed endlessly at
his chest
Until his heart gave its
Last beat
And he slept forever in
defeat

shapes materialize
as the darkness envelops

my mind’s inventions

I am your canvas,
Paint me with your colors of despair
Because I’m out on my own,
Setting little fires everywhere

Your hands are weapons that know no mercy
You bring them to your face and draw a map
I trace the ridges, the bridges, the mountains
The clumps of skin that crisscross on your mouth

i’m no outcast in these woods,
where the people who belong
are shunned,
permitted no entrance to what
is sacred
and preserved only to those
who understand what it
feels like to be
dismembered at the waist

We can’t keep loving each other through other people.

I’m holding on to specks of dust
of what remains of my weakened self
And I hope when I cry, you’ll hold
on to my tears
‘Cause little sailors will be sailing on their tides

broken is his design, a world of possibilities
‘now I’m fully mine,’ a mind’s
desirability

The spark
Went out.
His eyes,
Two hollow lakes
Of black ink.
In them swimming
His demons,
Declaring that
They have
Won

she kissed him under no roof,
no thoughts could spring to mind
no code, no written proof
she told him she’s undefined