My heart, already wounded, wants to give out. It cried in pain the night I said goodbye, but harder still the night you kissed me again. It's choking on the blood that keeps me alive, so I think I'll drain it, drip by drip. It's so hard to think of all of these things that I've done, and all those things I did with you. My eyes shrivel up in pain, with no more tears to cry. You made me cry again tonight while I wallow in my guilt.
It hurts so bad to see you like that, so bent up... So unhappy. Because of me.
My heart can't take anymore of my abuse. We were a perfect twosome, tangled in the strings of grief and passion, pain and pleasure.
My heart has been destroyed. I feel the fluids of life slowly leaking out... It gets so hard to say goodbye, but now I know, that my heart is giving up. Giving up on you. Giving up on an "us". I love you. And I hate what you've done to me. But I don't want to leave you here... Alone in the dark. But only I can see the light and I want you to follow me.
So watch me pull myself together with some ***** needles. Watch the blood deep though the spot where your X was drawn and watch me curl up and die. But I'm sorry. Will that ever be enough?

prepare for the high gates to fall.
for the great bowl of us
to submerge under stolen soul waves
& atomic guts.

the seven year tribes; or
fissure of statehoods and broods and brother against brother.
end drenched in whisky blood,
& desperado cheese.
fungus.

[the rebellion kids] with their drums and sling-shots,
get their throats cut in the open street sweet heat
& blitzkrieg.
all first-born hearts plucked
from atop the great pyramid, preserved, and in
frosted time-capsules.

yet the leopards remain healthy.
while cities plunge into putrefaction &/or
radioactive ****.
from **** to corner to tomahawk
in skull death note.

beaten back to the parking-lot of a best western;
in the battle of sacramento;
is an ammo-less infantry drummer,
& a bleeding medic.
they laugh and snap morphine tips
in the revelry of their final formations.

moon crescent
slows and all the woods liven with flocks of small children.
they live on plant sugars, wild
mushroom and boiled water.
they hide in caves of ancient etch;
old time-gone man & woman & buffalo.

they hunt owls with homemade crossbows
& cook the meat on holy spits.
grinding the little bones
into tincture rubbed beneath their eyes.
this, to exhume an astral essence.

The April night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree;
Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
    But not to me.

My peace is hidden in his breast
Where I shall never be,
Love comes to-night to all the rest,
    But not to me.

Decades have passed
And I'm still in the same place
It feels like centuries
Since you left without a trace
Time is to precious
To be put to waste
But I'm wasting away
In the past
Because no one will save
Myself from This despair
I guess no one really cares

Like Fine Wine,

my thoughts are caught in a bottle....

And I do not have a corkscrew!!!