This love is the end of my loneliness
And the beginning of my suicide.

I watch as the people I once knew
Become the people I don't know anymore
I miss them a so much
Growing up is amazing and depressing
That girl who was always happy is now sad
That girl who was so innocent is now ruined
That girl who was cracking jokes fell silent

That leads me to wonder. Did I change too?
Do others notice a small silent change in me?

I have had woman
probably ruined a few of them
stolen their innocence
let them **** me
**** me
love me
and then i left them
swollen
and alone
while I go off to another one
or some bottle
shaped like a woman
skinny at the top
fat in the middle
and good to the last drop
either way
i leave them
empty
cold
and alone
naked on my floor
never knowing
that my love
is reserved for what they have inside
the things they never see

At 18
I was once called a pseudointellectual
Reflecting now, it’s true
Reading poetry publicly to shape a persona, dropped when others weren’t around
How lame
At 29
I pick up Bukowski again
Surprisingly enjoyable, but
Unable to trust my true intent
Hide the cover while reading at work
Subverting possible subconscious manipulation

"You smoke too many cigarettes"
she claims with the sun beating
on her face like her father
Drunk and heavy-handed.
"I'm worried about your health"
Her hand clutching my hand
like the Moon to the Earth,
altering tides and currents
thoughts and memories.
Occupying every conceivable
second of every single day.

I'm a hung dumpster! Alcohol flask bucket
Sacked into the trash can of grocery store monopoly the end of all produce and of production
Collapse
Coronary killer vegetables
Rotting in the stomach
Begotten sons of Aspergers eating asparagus
the symptoms of collectivism and social surplus. colliding and,
The end of evolve.
The cities you see are the collecting cells pooling to cesspit trudging on tracheing breath.
Collapsing lungs with no space left
The cornucopia is over. It fell down with its mortar and grout lain to crust into soil. Traipsed through toil torture and insolence.
The Crimea fell next comes bombs next comes Obamba. Capitulation with motor skills
Feigning docility and anti-hostility mortar round bills.
Mountains from Jerusalem cricket ant hills

I am your friend though we owe the same blood
I am no different yet I give nothing up
I claim all the land just as you do
You take and you take and I lose and lose
Corruption and solitude
Killing people only gets you less friends
We are mirror yet very mad at it
.
My time will be up only but once.
This is the one time I'm not scared of death
But the glimmer in her eyes laughs me through it.

Your arms,
Are like the days I used to cut myself for you,
In front of my computer.
Pricked flayed.
From the times it split too much depth.

In the Red Sea vein.

Like the times I'd drink,
Till I ****** in the corner of the floor,
In my room.
With the door handle loosed,
So someone can find me in the morning.

My whole life is a corner
With you the coroner
In a morgue with no form to it
With the bodies on the slabs cut up.
Impatient and waiting to be whole,
Not facing the wall  of your skull.

This rooms too full.

My bodies piled on the others.
Autopsy waiting room.
You're in that cottage at the edge of the abyss.
The event horizon to hell.
What Dreams Won't Come.