told you that i loved you,
that all was just a bore.
i hope you locked the windows,
and bombarded the front door.

feeling you leave
was like
watching the water go down the drain in the sink,
as it cleanses your hands from the sickness you encounter throughout the day.

i want to get out
but there's a frog in my knees
that won't allow me to move,
it won't allow me to leave.
i feel it in my throat now,
and im all choked up.
oh no its in my brain now,
im waiting to erupt.

re-approach


              grip with a gentle sting


hunger


              fueled by inconsistency

when fear finds new homes to hide
fingertips, fire and cyanide
blazing trembles, roaring tide
quiet voices quietly abuse,
and silence blazes a fiery bruise
when you're left drinking
cyanide and month-old *****
no more tremblings left to choose
screaming like quiet voices do
when licking fire finds them
roaring too,
and ashes feel more like ice cubes
than his words do.