A city of strange sights
Something sinister is hiding beyond the lights

Your comfortable ignorance blinds you from the war
I wonder if the fight is worth it anymore

The calm babble of a fountain near
Contrasts the cries for help barely reaching my ear

The place where our humanity is lost
And we leave one another to rot

I used to think myself a giving person
But I have since learned my lesson

I ask a man with a bourgeoisie air
For change to help pay my train fare

His face tightens when he looks at me
"Sorry,

I spent it all on overpriced coffee,"

And for another night I'm stuck here

Tonight will fill

With the bitterness

Your tragedies spill.


& you hate this.

This endless, lonely night.


Empty minds

With their empty,

Lonely lives.


Some days you will fill

With some old vice.

Though

It will never be enough

To ****.


& the night will always define the daylight.

& empty always defines your heart.


I don't think this will change.

I think you're just built this way.


Tonight will fill

With the darkness

You've started calling home.

Cigarettes will go by the name

"Friend"

& you'll spend your night wondering

Whether any of this

Will ever end.

Their voices echo

"We want an intellectual,

Not a beaten-down rebel,"

But you must let the flames lick your heels.

To live freely

And create beautifully

You must feel intensely.

And you will  burn

The shutter clicks twice.
"You take too many pictures"
But you pay me no mind.

The years fly by and,
As you begin to forget
I keep asking why.

Still you smile at me,
Though I've become a stranger
Lost in memory.

I bring your pictures.
"Remember when we lived here?
Or these light fixtures?"

I brought your tapes but,
Your bed is empty now.
Mourning your lost shape.

When you left I found
Your philosophy makes sense now.
There's so much beauty
That can't afford to be lost.

I look one last time
At the first picture
You took with that camera
Now gathering dust.

It's nearing the time when everyone died.
In October one tried
By November two more, inspired, jumped.
Both land, only one gets up.

I wonder if I'll ever show him your grave.
Did you watch us when we walked right by you?
I wonder why you were one of the few I didn't save.

It's nearing the time when everyone died
& the way you left has kept you so alive in my mind.
I've held so many dying hands
I'm sorry I wasn't there
To keep yours warm.
Maybe if I'd said things right
You'd be sitting here with me tonight.
Maybe if I wasn't too tired to stay the night
Everything would be alright.

It's nearing the time when everyone died.
I've stopped using clocks to track the time.
Remember the night we talked for hours?
Remember telling me your favorite flowers?
I thought that meant you were getting better.
That maybe you could be saved.
At least I knew what to lay on your grave.

It's nearing the time when everyone died
& for every one gone two more tried.
Lately I'm running out of people to lose.
Of everyone I know I really only like one or two.

It's nearly the time when everyone died
& once I'm out of people to call mine
How am I supposed to tell the time?

When will we become

Just a simple afterthought

When will you forget?

Life has made me lawless
Life made me a conman
I can't remember when I last felt stillness
Been stuck begging for change with a can
People walk by seeming flawless
But never look twice at their fellow man

Life has made me lawless
Life made me a conman
Pride and feeling tallness
Are two things I'll never understand
Most days the world seems ruthless
I suppose that's just my hand

Life has made me lawless
Life made me a conman
I hope death may take me from this madness
And make me a free man

The stars look crueler

As they watch you die

Beneath their light.


There are too many of them in the sky

With too much hate filling their eyes


They've seen hundreds of you before

They will see

Hundreds more


You think you deserve to be here

You've been praying quietly

These past few years.


You think you can hear them

Whispering about you

Above you

They knew you'd never make it

You know you don't belong


You know this mountain will be

Just as cold

Just as lonely

In two hundred years

As it is tonight

Finding warmth in a broken body

Found dead

By light


There are too many stars in the sky

With too much hate filling their eyes


They've seen hundreds of you before

They will see

Hundreds more


Did your family know you went terminal

When you booked that flight?

The way they held you as you said goodbye

You think they just might


You wish you could call home

With your last dying breath

And tell them you'll be gone

Someone finally chose your death


But that call will come

From an unknown number

From a voice too rough

Calling on a night

With too many stars

Filling up your sky


And from then on

Your sister wears a smile

That says she just wants to die

Give me mount everest death.


Give me cold glory.


Snow kissing faces,

One man among many.

Nearing the start

Of their final few breaths.


Miles and miles of whiteout

Remind you of the lights

Your mother left out

Too late into spring.

This comfort you will spend

Your final moments seeking.


Give me mount everest death.


Give me cold glory.


You knew there'd come a day

When you wouldn't meet the morning.


Maybe you didn't make it to the top.

Maybe you didn't kiss God's face.

Maybe your mother will never know

Your final resting place.


Give me mount everest death.


Give me cold glory.


Tell me the end

Of your entire life story.

Ice cold breath

Nearly dead in the snow.

Ten years ago

She would have made you come in

At the very first sign

Of blue tinted lips.

Now you're watching snow fall.

White on black fingertips.


Give me mount everest death.


Give me cold glory.


Somewhere out there

Your Mother's still mourning.

Wishing she could call you in.

Ruining your fun

One last time.

To see your blue lips

And make you hot chocolate

To warm your cold fingertips.

We met in December

Locked eyes and fell instantly.


I never liked the cold.


But I liked the late nights.

Talking.

Whispering secrets in the in-between

Or sharing looks of longing.

Quietly.


I never liked the cold.


You say winter makes it worse.

That it reminds you of growing up.

A turning point.

Trading blows instead of cards,

Where baseball bats

Aren't used

For baseball

Anymore.

I never liked the cold.

And my heart tore

When you showed me the pills lining your pockets.

"Just in case,"

You would say

"I need a quick escape,"

And I never knew

I could feel so numb

As when they called

And said what you had done.

That you were gone.


I never liked the cold.


But I really liked you.

I've stopped chasing trains
Everywhere I go.

I've stopped downing darkness
to deal with my own.

I've started drowning death
In everything good.


My car has forgotten
what it's like going over 75.
It doesn't wonder what every drop from every bridge will feel like.

I don't wonder how far I can go
before money runs out and gas gets low.
How far I can run before anyone will know.


I've stopped chasing trains
Everywhere I go.

I've stopped downing darkness
to deal with my own.

I've started drowning death
In everything good.

I've started drowning death
In you.

Ticking time bomb friends

Will lay themselves dead

Before you can understand

What's going through their head.


Death filled minds

With death dripping hands

Might include you

In their end of life plans.


You'll see the knife wounds

Cross hatching chests

You'll see the pills

That one day will put them to rest.


Death filled minds

With death dripping hands

Might include you

In their end of life plans.


They'll show you razors,

Knives and blood.

You'll never ask why

They'll never mention it again.

You'll excuse the rope you find

Filling up corners

You'll ignore sturdy beams

With chairs underneath them.

You won't think twice

When they ask for one bullet.

Maybe you'll be the one to put it

In ticking time bomb hands.


Death ridden minds

With death dripping hands

Might include you

In their end of life plans.


It's not your fault.

How could you have known?

You've made an art out of ignoring.

You assume the blood and gore meant

nothing.

It was just a bad night.

It's not your fault.

How could you have known?

It's not like you've lost

Every other one you've known.

It's okay.

It's really not your fault.

You can never stop

Death ridden minds

With death dripping hands.

You can never help

Your ticking time bomb

Friends.

An old church at the end of the road
Sunflowers spill over the altar
For children grown old.

Alone in the pews
I watch light suffused
Through stained glass windows.

When I was young
And it was my turn
They gave us roses
Told us they still have thorns
Because life would hurt us
When we found it.

Most of us did.

Including me.

Most of us left those four walls.

Most of us moved far away.

Most of us never returned.

Except for me.

The dusty hymnals smell like youth.
The empty sanctuary looks like home.
And I can still see myself by the piano
The sound of my violin
Was bigger than the world.

When it's all over

I step outside and feel the cold.

I was so young.

And now I'm afraid.

I'm getting so old.

I don't know anyone
Filing out the door.
Nobody knows me.

I walk to the B&B.
I ask for a room.
I used to play there so often
They always let me stay for free.


The clerk says it's switched hands
A dozen times or more.
They say the chandelier
Hasn't heard a song in years.

I unpack my suitcase upstairs
And can't help but shed a few tears

For a town
That truly
Forgot
Me.

Trains pass by
Hiding bombs
Waiting to kiss the sky
Of the blue hours
I've been drowning in.

Another pill passing lips
From broken fingertips.
I wonder why my hands died
Before the rest of me could.

Empty monsters
Fill up attics
With my dead friends.

They walk past

Poems

Laughter and

Love

Just as empty by the end
As they were at the start.

So far
Nobody good
Has mentioned
My dead hands.

The drunken ghosts
Whispering to walls
Still blame me
For your death.

And my beauty is blurred
By my dead hands.
And my chest is bruised
By your young death.

And my glass philosophy
Has begun to shatter
Under the light
Of the blue hours
I've been drowning in.

When will you see me

The way I've always seen you

Would you understand?

Worship,

You will worship

At the cemetery cross of a mother

Who couldn't spare you a tear

Even if you were her own.


Worship,

Worship,


You will hang yourself

From the cross

& Not even God

Or Bohumil himself

Could spare a tear

For one as small as you.


Worship,

Worship,


The razor blades you've sewn

Inside your sleeves

Will be forgotten

Till the next bitter winter

Will make your blood drip

And fall


Worship

You must worship

Till the bleeding stops

Till your heart beats slowly

Worship

Till they tell you

You aren't as pure as you should be

Worship

And admit that maybe

You're inclined to tragedy

My sweet little Gayle

It's as if your eyes were made

Just to melt my heart

Though I worry myself to pain,
And the wind unrelenting blows.

There is solace in the sight of an oncoming train.
Sometimes I wonder if the conductor knows.


Every evening at half past five
I board with no real destination.
His gentle voice asking for my ticket keeps me alive.

Though my daily absences keep raising questions.
This band around my finger has grown too tight.

He, acting less as a husband, more as a victor. Nailing my shoes to the floor so I can't leave at night.

Still my mind always drifts back to my train conductor.

I will likely die by 25
A slave to my vice.

But at least I will go
At the foot of the throne
Where I learned
What it means
To worship.

Another late night
Swallow a pill
Welcome bitter to the back of your throat.
Wait there and sit tight
Forget you're ill.

Take another
Then another
Then wonder
when you'll overdose.

It's nights like these you'll remember most.


Hide under your hood
Live between nights
Unsure whether you will meet the morning.
Unsure if you should
Would it be right?

I keep replaying the day you left.

A normal, almost pleasant morning until you tore that final rift.
Cool summer air mixing with despair upon finding your
note.

And my sudden flow of tears blurred most of what you wrote but,
It doesn't take much to know I don't make your cut.

And I've yet to address all of the stress or how much I have shrunk.
Most nights spent drunk, I've found the best listeners to be stars.

I tell them of gashes fading into scars.
Tip-toeing around the most painful parts has become a form of art.

What a fool to think I could trick the moon
with this broken heart.

No amount of alcohol can take me from these dizzying heights so,
I guess you were right.

There is always

One final shove

From those old Angels

We've forgotten how to love.


Their cold fingers

No longer reach the depths

Where they used to linger.


One final blue night

We listen to the trains.

Finally committing to a goodbye

Because the stars

That drift through your eyes

Can no longer flutter the heart

Or evoke butterflies.


Those same gentle eyes

Will let you go

One last time.

Watching headlights

Melt the highway.

I turned away from you

And there is no second try.

Nobody will refer to us as two

After this goodbye.

These familiar streets used to bring solace.

You see, this used to be a blank canvas but I've painted myself onto it and people are starting to notice.

Looking out from my seat all I see are ghosts of what I've done lining the streets.

And it's a scene I wish I could reframe
But this,

This is a problem I just can't tame.

Maybe I'll change my name

Then plan a party with no invitations and wonder why nobody came.

You wanted to be remembered by snow
And rainbow lights.

But you died way before Christmas
Late one summer night.

Humming cicadas and broken screen doors
Your only passing rites.

And before I knew it I found myself at your funeral.

Maybe it was the suddenness of it all

Or the alcohol

But when it was finally my turn to speak
In my mind your death had sprung a leak.

And I almost felt ashamed

Ashamed that I had forgotten the look on your face

That I had forgotten the last words that fell from your lips.

That I didn't kiss those same lips after you said goodbye.

Forever.

But you didn't live the way you died.
You would never want to be remembered by the slaughter.

When I think of your face
All I see is snow

And lights

And laughter

The streets have grown cold
I can't get lost in this city anymore.
The nighttime silence shakes me to the core
And memories are making me feel old.

I miss the solitude of lonely
I miss the dangers of new.
I came to this city with dreams of you.
I'm going wishing you never knew me.

I don't know if I'm right
To pack up and go
And leave you in your messes alone
But sometimes you have to give up on your dreams.

Just for the night.

Death is a friend who caught my eye
Ten years and three months ago
Up in the attic
Hiding all alone.
When the monsters come and find me
They'll take me back home.

& Death is a friend
Kept closer than any.
He doesn't get angry
His eyes never leak
As he watches me paint lies
Over blue bruising cheeks.

Death is a friend
I'm falling in love with
As months crawl by
I'm gaining the courage
For that first final kiss.

I almost was brave
Ten months & three weeks ago
Driving alone down an old country road
Death in my passengers seat
My skin growing cold.

& Death is a friend
I'm more than halfway in love with
He was all I could see in your face
As you painted in bruises & blood
To put me in my place.

& I cried to the old brick road
I told all of my secrets
I told of all my pain.

Death is a friend
I fell madly in love with
Ten days and three hours ago
Hiding in that alley alone
Begging for death to take the rest of me.

Or some profound piece of me.

But Death is a friend
As cruel as he is kind
In moments of need
He is nearly impossible to find.

Ten hours & three minutes ago
I chose to make death mine.

After ten glasses of wine
These three bottles of pills have finally fogged my mind.

Here I lie
In the attic alone.
I've only got one cigarette left to go
Till the monsters will never find me again.

What are you to do

When those meant to accept you

Make you feel alone?

Your laughter spills like ink onto my heart.

Breathing color and light into the cracks.

To you, nothing has to be fixed. You accept everything as it is.

Being with you makes me want to give this feeling to everyone, too good to keep to myself.

It's not the electricity they talk about in movies.

Not cathartic.

No, you are more sustainable than these things.

You are Sunday mornings,

Coffee shops during gentle rain,

I'm nostalgic for you even when you are right in front of me.

With you, nothing needs to be fixed.

Not even me.