Fins and gills
False thrills
River rapids, bottles, pills
Fish don't feel

Beauty energises a dry well
makes it swell, gush a fountain
freely quenches the thirsting soul
makes whole the ugly truths.

these memories haunt me always
my knees begin to shake
I can't find the off-switch to this terror
when I sleep and when I wake.
these voices are too kind to me
telling me to die
I deserve much worse and more
and all they want is a goodbye.
I waste this time away and rot
because I cannot seem to speak
when all these words are stuck up there
and my mind becomes too weak.
too weak to say anything at all
to speak any truth or meaning
I am paralyzed by all my friends
left to all but my breathing.

My teeth are falling out.

Dear HP,

This is not a poem
But a question
The answer to which
I do hope you have

Why does my lover claim to love me
But still looks for every opportunity
To let me go?

Is it that she loves me so much
But doesn't think she's worthy of me

Or she doesn't love me enough
To think I'm worthy of her?

The inner most of the heart
    is never articulated--it defies
    words and smears the truth
    before the speaker's eyes

  and love in its mysterious ways
  appears and parts in so many a guise
  definitions whether from Camus, Sartre
or Wittgenstein sadly fail-- each word corrupts and dies

If lies had shape it would be the curve in his smile
The brightness of his teeth
He was the growling of fire
Whilst I was the silence of ashes