If this is the best person I'll ever be
without being forced to be better,
but being naturally me
without practiced speach
or promising false qualities
without superficial touch ups
of exercise, diet
and surgery;

if this is the best I'll ever become
without inheriting a fortune,
or every bet won
without dotting every I
or learning the answer of every sum
without begging forgiveness
every time I get things wrong;

if this is all that I ever am
without growing confident and competent with every plan
or becoming a hero
or a leading man,
but just remain being
a normal imperfect man,
am I enough for you to love?

put on your internet mittens
'cause, Baby, it's cold out there
in spite of the millions of kittens
there's a definite chill in the air

i may never read what you've written
it's not that i don't love your wares,
i'm only eternally smitten
by outdoors, green trees, and fresh air

so keep writing, Baby, go faster
it's writing that makes writing great
if you stop it would be a disaster
so stick it, you know, it's your fate

this is borderline
obliged to stop

unattainable aspirations
obliged to real unwanted

away the ones you love
fatigue obliged

whatever disappears
obliged loneliness knocking on the door

what pattern is empty
obliged imagine  resentment

something saying
silence
see the sky
stars
streets seen
sympathies stiff

are you a sweet dream
I can't wake up
this is what I live on
I'm really shaken up

the fish on the network
I'll struggle in vain

and my hollow outcries

Sludge and blood. The smell of deep red iron
filtering through the rocks and bodies bruised to the touch.
Grotesque collections of pills and broken skin;
infections and secretions and violent affections -
Spit stained fingers and dilated pupils at thoughts thick with resin.
Waking up with sickness in your stomach and bite marks on your neck
The pull of clutching hands at strands of hair and bitten lips and sweat
Pulling deeper, sharp inhale of self-done stitches
Ripped open insides and the moment his breath hitches -
aches forever. Pulsing, swollen, bleeding on the brain
Sweet and sickly, gorgeous and gorged veins
Momentary singularity in pain.