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em 4d
dreaming big
dreaming fast
i take my terrors
at full mast.
my breath is light
my blood comes thick
my hand in sight
to catch my death
palms outstretched
to carry souls
forgotten people
forgotten goals
i bring the sun
into my skin
so i may die with
little sin
so i may die in
peaceful plight
i breathe the sun
in all its light.
em May 18
A child named Michel
plays in the middle of the street
He cuts my childhood in two
Lined by identical brown cottages.
Michel is now unlucky,
Sitting in a body bag
In a basement
Blood still pumping from his
Surgical defibrillator
Now Michel will live forever
Perhaps until the flying cars and until pigs make
Their vertical descent to both heaven and ****.
Now the house is a quiet house,
I only realize how loud Michel was,
Once he stopped altogether.
His parents sleep heavy,
Like their lives are over,
They are dead, dead, dead inside.
And so I smell the death
Which perfumes their shared residence,
In my guilty conscience,
I am glad that Michel is where he belongs.
Dead.
Michels parents preferred a way of life,
Where you just know that Michel had to know
his chance at death were plenty.
Michels parents took him up to the attic,
Where Michels father would **** him,
And mom would take pictures
Watching quietly.
I know this because our windows are parallel,
Because I saw Michel
Pale face across the middle of the floor,
Pleading, why won’t they **** me?
em Apr 15
schizophrenia
a friend of mine
has quite a lot to say,
and all his words are already
set in my tongue


this is what he says to me
one day i'm going to **** you
where no one's going to see

ill **** you deeply
to cause the kind of hurt that
is impossible to the eyes
is silent to the ears
but profound to the mind

ill **** you silently
words will be dead to you
your death will imprison you
and all you can do is look out

ill **** you slowly
you will be shocked at the feeling
of time giving up on you
syrupy and pitiful

ill **** you my way
not an ounce of mercy out of this
your pain is invisible
and when its not
you'll be a monster
to everyone who sees it

ill **** you all your life
until you really die
i make no reservations
but i promise,
you won't make it
em Apr 12
grief is a beaten lion
which rears its **** head
despite all of sunrise and its turning face
silent, hungry he stalks
among the underbrush
scarred and matted fur is bleak
against the pale tin sun
which beats upon him thrice more
and as his mighty frame
pounces through the dust
he is met with unlucky prey
and how loud and belly-full she is.
skinny, broken lion rears its **** head
bearing teeth soon to be soothed by
blood
lonesome, prideful, broken lion
tears his prey apart.
and oh, how he roars upon the taste.
em Apr 12
it bothers me
that some people i know
need a dictionary to live
who taught you that you cannot function
without a language of
judgement and
resentment?
who taught you to look with your mouth?
to feel with your eyes?
take your face out
of that book

and *******
learn to listen.
em Apr 12
all people need god
all people need something that has a capital name
all people need a purpose bigger than biology
all people need a king
all people need some systematic oppression
all people need guilt so they can avoid responsibility for the things that they hate about themselves and the worlds we have created
all people need sickness to know what a good body feels like
all people need a reason to be an individual
all people need to be reassured, perhaps corrected that they are an individual when they begin to realize how simple they really are
all people need love but do we all deserve it?
all people need guilt
all people need desire so they can fulfill and re-fulfill
all people need to talk and take up space
all people need less space than they think
all people need *** but not all people are *****
all people need curiosity
all people need empathy
all people need hate so they can hate something more than themselves


not all people are people
em Apr 3
today i found a bird
who was as hideous as me
oil stained and crusted over
balding,
crying like any bird should.
only softer.
i looked at him
up in his nest, alone
without a chick to feed.

and as he cried,
soft and softer,
his feathers shaking against the sticks
he looked at me, hard,
like any bird would.
only kinder.
and all the sudden,
he was
beautiful.
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