These candles are cold
With frozen stalactite beards
But love blazed last night

and it will flow like oil.

It will grip like a lion's jaw
sinking into the flesh of my neck.

Nothing's about to change.
The vicious cycle of
reminiscence to
recession to
unresponsiveness
is a gift that just keeps on ******' giving.

Until I have nothing left to give.

I'm finished.

I am sorry for ruining all vaginas for you
I hope you can recover eventually
She said

I hate to burst your **** bubble
But I’ve slid some lies between your thighs
When howling at your moon wasn’t so much praise
As it was longing for a change of ***** scenery

People change?

How I feel right now
is like when one time I was sick
And my parents recorded a show I watched
so I could watch it later
And at the end of the show
there was a number for a contest to go to space camp

I called that number
It was disconnected
I always find out the important stuff
A little late

I cried that day

I just wanted to go to space camp

And I just wanted someone to love me like a black hole
A warm black hole to put all my love into
**** me in and fix me like there’s no turning back
I mean in the darkness of space
They all look the same
All yank at you turbulent and fiery head rush passion

I mean we all love the same

So I am sorry I overshot your Venus
To crash land in Uranus
A semi-purposeful curious passion

You coulda yelled ****
We felt like ****
When we walked away

Parts of me have always been missing
And I tried to fill the gaps with you
Problem is when you might be gay and are fighting it
Your closet is a ******

Not your fault your beard looked funny on my ****
You can’t wear a person like an accessory
I can’t slap her like masculinity till I feel straight again
Some things aren’t right
I’m not right
And you are so messed up now
Because you have this superpower to turn men gay

You can’t turn men gay
You can only remind them of the pain that lies
In lying to themselves when they know
None of this feels right

None of it will

Dear former lover
Former black hole body
Former holder of my confusion
And filler of my empty spots

I ****** up by ******* you

I ****** up

The best poems of mine,
were written in my heart,
only for you to read;
you forgot, where it was kept,
and left without a word.

Those who write poetry feel too much

They feel too much pain
Too much joy
Too much sadness
Too much freedom and hate
Too much compassion and love

They are not normal and some
Do think them quite strange
For normal people would be ok
To push their feelings away
But see a poet, he can not
just push them away
What he feels must erupt
onto the page
Otherwise he risks
being enraged

It is their blessed curse
To live without a buffer
To feel all they can feel
and push none away

But thank God for these people
for from their suffering and joy, comes art.
Beautiful,
Heart wrenching art.

The time is approaching
The time is near
The time is now
The time is upon us
The time is hear
Change is coming
The storm is upon us
Trouble is on
The horizon
There is also healing
People are changing
The world is becoming
More chaotic
More insane
Every minute
Its easy to get caught
Caught in the storm
With no way out
But through the trials
And the pain
People are seeing the truth
People are coming to the light
Accepting old truths
Accepting love
And the healing it can bring

This world is a wonderland
Its a wonder to behold
This wonderful
Beautiful place
We all call come
Its a wonder
To be alive
A wonder
To be here
A wonder
To get the chance
To learn
To grow
To thrive
To struggle
Getting closer
To the truth
Of everything death
Accepting  life
Accepting everyone
Accepting yourself
And accepting
The love
And the truth
And sharing
That beauty
With others