I
being crucified
died.
You did not see me fall
or see the memories that dripped my blood down the concrete walls of yesterday and when I lay there still and broken by the empty stores and unlit lamps,franked as if by postage and the stamps that stamped upon my shattered soul,I felt
whole.
In pieces and yet pieced together,the man you like or not it's up to you whether you do.
I remain a reminder of the pain now gone and one remembers a touch too much at times,
hard and easy times,crayoned soft times,lead pencil lines that tore across my skin,tin tack look back time pressing in on me,
but you did not see me fall or bleed, recognise the need,stem the flow,
it was I who stood aside and watched me slowly drop and couldn't stop the embolism,attacked by criticism,the symbolism all but knew and I,and I
was crucified bled out,read out cuneiform until it dawned on me that you could see and I was but a symptom not the cause.

He fell into his 20 somethings
with less grace than a stage dive
and about as much planning

I drove 100 miles per hour
down the expressway
just to make it to his bed,
before he got inside his own head
several times a week for
seven years straight

But something about this
time looked unsalvagable
as he came flailing,
wrecklessly
over head

I guess I found the courage
to step away
and let gravity
pull his weight

Well,
I sat on his front porch
this morning with a coffee between
my hands and my legs crossed,
hoping desperately
he wouldn't ask me
if he was going to be okay
cause I know that in some ways
he needs me to believe in him
but I was always bad at pretending
when my mom drug me to church
at age six
and not a whole lot
has changed since then

i am sorry for having villainized you.
let me say this first:
i am so sorry for the pain i caused you.

i am also sorry for the grit
and rough
and mess you saw in
my skin. i am sorry
that i let it matter to me
that you saw these things.
i am sorry that i let you
make me feel like the
skin that i was writhing in,
that i was trying on
and tailoring (am still
tailoring) to fit me correctly
was somehow *****, somehow
not so clean. somehow covered in
the hands of too many boys
who made me unpure.
who you believed
somehow stole my
virtue with their kiss.
(like they would be so powerful
as to **** it from my lips)
i am sorry that you believed
that this caused such a gaping
space between us that we could
no longer lie next to each other.

the truth is,
i miss you somedays.

it makes me ache to know
that you missed my first
love. you missed his smile
and his stupid decisions,
and the effect he had on me.
you missed the way he brought
my mind to a lull.
my whole body to a
present moment.
you missed the disappointment,
the pain, the deep and crushing
heartbreak.
you missed the day he said goodbye.
you missed me picking up
the parts of myself i didn't
know existed in such a way
that they could fall apart.

i had seen you through that all
and you will only know of mine
through what i will tell you.

i am sorry to have hurt you.
to have lost you.
i was shedding skin and so were you.

*january/27/2014/12:23 A.M.

I can't draw worth ****
even my stick figures suffer
my paintings look like
pathetic Jackson ******* wanna-be's
spilled milk is more ascetically pleasing
than my attempts at water color
but there is one art I have mastered
(I'm not really okay)
-

on a long enough timeline
everybody wins
and everybody dies
everybody sins
and everybody lies

so now I'm just sitting
trying to graph out where I've been
to figure out when I'll be winning
this game that everybody loses
my hopes have been ground to dirt
and my love stomped and spit on
what I thought was there never really was
and so I'm left with an empty hug

it's cold now so I'm shivering
september's always been lonely for me
the coming cold keeps on hindering
the joy inside and dangling from a cliff
never dug myself out if so many holes
but this january proves september is nothing
taking me from shivering cold to smoldering human coal
but now that I've tasted the bottom
swirled the grass and dirt all in my mouth
i can say that I've seen the cold and felt the wind
I've stayed for a while at the coldest place I've ever been

The only thing I want is you
Slam me up against a wall,
**** me till I can't breathe,
I want you

The sounds our bones would make,
A hundred years from now,
The most beautiful ratta-tat-tat
Of our bones pounding like drums
Heavy, ******, filling the air with our chorus
Love is music,
Life is love,
It all goes in a circle,
And currently,
I keep coming back to you

me.gs