My youthful folly you haunted me
As time ticked roaring red.
With tools to dig, a torch to see,
You got inside my head.

You dragged me by my blinded eyes
And buried me 'neath the ground.
No air, no food, just lies and lies
To keep me breathing sound.

No sound allowed but your song
To keep the quiet still.
You even had me sing along
Though not against my will.

The music's gone, the soil is dead,
You're nothing but a fraud.
For all you did to me and said,
A well deserved applaud.

To you shall harms appear, appear?
Perhaps some day you'll find a cure?
One thing is sure my dear, my dear,
Your soul, it will never be pure.

A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?



The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.



I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.



I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.



I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.



If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.

a step to truth
where she tells him
that her dance card’s
been full many times over

with experiments in heartbreaking

and he, a dip
and a sore heel for not being first
the little verbal twirls
he does
to step to truth

with trepidation and inadequacies—

no one knows who should lead

Let those who will of friendship sing,
And to its guerdon grateful be,
But I a lyric garland bring
To crown thee, O, mine enemy!

Thanks, endless thanks, to thee I owe
For that my lifelong journey through
Thine honest hate has done for me
What love perchance had failed to do.

I had not scaled such weary heights
But that I held thy scorn in fear,
And never keenest lure might match
The subtle goading of thy sneer.

Thine anger struck from me a fire
That purged all dull content away,
Our mortal strife to me has been
Unflagging spur from day to day.

And thus, while all the world may laud
The gifts of love and loyalty,
I lay my meed of gratitude
Before thy feet, mine enemy!

I'm a sinner and a saint 
I'm a struggling man 
Do right when right is wrong 
I live only to die again

King of nothing
King of no one
King of no mans land 
Fighting wars that never end
Living lives no one will contend
"Struggle" a noose around my neck
Always tight- never fatal
This was always my life, straight from the cradle
Flesh with a soul
Soul without a mind
Existence trapt between space and time


The doors open, here I go.
Another day with the wicked, Lonely, and cold.
Every sinner, every saint.
Every "he", every "they"

I am the one they point their finger to
I am The hungry
The unwanted by you
The addict enslaved
The drunk on the street
The past out -
Week after week

Who am I- I have no name
My name is nameless 
My life is lifeless 
My love never was

My heart has stopped
Met its end
I am now, the dead. 
-
The Rotting,
The unwanted
The was

And
As in life, so in death.
I am The subject --
of everyone's ignore

sickly sweet his muttered breath
stinking of rain and ***
nicotine that stuck to his sweat
                                      and monsters between his lips
                   they start to slip--

                                      casualties of carcinogens
                   sand paper made of tired skin
peeled away
sliced off
cut in
                   slipped away
                                                         --addictions forgotten how to stay
                                      their sweet poison the only company
                   and bittersweet, missed opportunities
and how you've slipped away from me.

                                      surprise, surprise.

i am attracted to your soul
no need for smoke and mirrors

"my hands are
nothing more than
     things that need fixing,"
he tells himself with a bitter tongue


but in
the bleak morning
soft smoke curls around his
daydreams,
his eyes painted lost shades
of crimson and wanting;
the brief, sweet exhale of
maybe tomorrow escapes
his lips

- just before he realizes that
this moment                 alone
has become his greatest
nightmare