Peel off your skin.
Look at you.
Your mind is gushing from every vein, every slit.
Your fears are being milked from the exposed flesh.

This is you, my friend.
You have been disfigured and morphed into something you don't recognize.
Scabs are cracked open to reveal secrets only you could be selfish enough to cover.

Your blood drips off the tip of your nose at a steady pace;
As you, my friend, watch your face melt into a sink.
You are disgusting but this is you, and
You
Are
Alive.

Friend, you are perfectly honest;
No carbon copies made.
You let yourself bleed and flood this house,
Because that's all you've ever wanted.
You've finally escaped the cage of bones and skin that silenced you.

You alive and you are free.

Do it to african musk.
Roll it like finely carved dust.
Hold it like dynamite just.
When angels fall, damage must.
Together bind it with trust.
Yet time goes on without rust.

Peering through crimson curtains,
Into the life of someone new.
Peeling away their layers,
Until all becomes black, just like you.

I like pens that bleed
Ink that smears
Girls with scars
Broken parts
***** clothes
Stained sheets
The hint of blood
The taste of lust
The smells of love
Nights through morning
Mornings to night
Suns that sleep
Moons that dream
And all the pretty
You hide underneath
Those pretty
Pretty
Pretty things

anonymous winds
bend tall Timothy grasses,
wake rabbits napping
in the brush

they ripple the surface
of the stock tanks, tickle the haunches
of the beasts who wade there
to slurp the tepid waters

they birth red dust devils
for my eyes to follow, as they scud
through mesquite, and hopscotch over canyons
older than time

one day, soon, they will blow
over a shallow earth bed; I will not hear
their sibilant song, but my sleep will be deep,
unperturbed by their mystic music

this poem
is not about you

even though
your spirit is in every word
your voice sounds strong
in the halls of my mind
telling me things
I am now sure
I want to know

this poem is
about me

trying to understand
you