I desire to play the piano
   fingertips like cigarettes
I desire to pick at the guitar
   fingertips like cigarettes

I want to whistle mellifluous melodies to my comrades
   lips like cigarettes    
I wish to massage your head
   broken fingernails filed cigarettes

I search for my voice to shout but my lungs
   are (((filled)))

I want to write a SuRreal poem
   But, my
fingertips are as cigarettes

If only I was there
to sneak in during the AM of closed windows.
and kiss the glass floors with gasoline
and glaze it with honey
and then perhaps drop my match alight.

To see your world dissolve
feel you burn, -as I did
and watch you turn to ashes at my feet. -Like you didn’t.
So I can kneel at the end
to blow your dust from my skin.


. rather than lugging round
a crisp coated burnt out heart.  - That you made
that now fears
to play with fire.

is
cutting off bits of my infected self
and sharing them with you
but the pieces are small
so the poison's diluted
so you get to go home ok
and I...
I get to hurt a little less

I want to
feel nothing for you.
I want to
soak myself in Novocain
when you pass me on the street.
I want to
not be blown away by the way
your hips shift when you walk .
I want to
delete memories of you
like they were data on a disk.
I want to
shove you so deep into a crowded backpack.
That thousands of years could pass
before I found you.
I want to
be like the neutered dog
able to **** away and away
with no consequence.
I want to
close my eyes and think of anything else
literally anything else
like dead bodies decaying
or something along those lines.
I want to
be free from your chains
and I mean that.
You don't seem to understand that
but I do.

Mean it.

Believe me.

I want to feel nothing for you.

don’t

orbit

around me

my love.

even if

we’re two

separate planets —

i’d still

love you

just as much.

My body is a temple
Destroyed
Crumbling
Broken
Worshiping inner demons and external pleasures
The pursuit of glory through the forbidden fruit
A blood sacrifice is demanded
By a god at the altar
But there is nothing holy about this
The only heaven I will ever find
Is in beaded red lines
I confess my sins to thee
But there are no answers to my prayers
There is no one to answer to
Higher powers have forgotten me
I have forsaken me
And there is no grace in pain
No forgiveness in punishment
And no God to blame for my sins
As I kneel adorned with my own crown of thorns
Constructed from my own deceptions and faults
I wonder why the only person willing to die for my sins
Is me