I remember when you said
your freckles made you mad
Well hunny if you'd like
I'd kiss them all away
lick them off your skin
one
by
one
until my tongue is speckled
with your sun marks
and my body full
of your imperfections.
And you,
a standing, sitting, loving
sun conqueror
raw as that January morning
and new as the year
when our lives melted together
and the world disappeared.

Your hands as white as skulls
piled atop one another
a tower on your lap
ghostly mouth pursed
empty eyes narrowed
muted
mutilated
anticipated.

My fleshy finger
touches your bone
cold
cold
cold.
Peachy pink,
my dreadful sink
into your vacant stare.

'Your hair is shorter' he remarked,
hand on the counter
eyes on the floor.

'I cut it' was all I could muster
dead words ****** out
into the ancient air
and held,
steadfast,
in our wake.

I dream in words and lyrics
I crave the scratch of a pen
the leak of creativity
upon paper.

Dressed in stark white
mental anesthesia
Sneaking poems between immunisations
I don't belong among the needles.
Blunt and uniform
never was my style.

I feel my mentality slipping
dying with the leaves
falling down, down, down,
Ricocheting against my skull
and leaking out my ears.

I beg of you
a spare parachute,
stuffing to plug my orifices.
I'm melting away
I'm slowly stifled
and I need to be saved.

Feigned fatherly affection
which I ate up
as on a golden spoon
dipped in lead.

How silly was I,
to imagine sincerity
after so many years
chained to your bed.

Was it your doing?
Broken demigod of yore?
Fragmented mosaic that I adored?
No. Twas all in my head.

How cruel were you
To allow me to feel,
to encourage my worship
and to leave me for dead.

Alas! It is you who were tricked!
By my slight of hand, my skill with ****.
For never was I abiding to begin with
But rather a defiant bird, regurgitating all you fed.