I ask for too much help
Not help in the traditional sense
As in
I don't have a knack for falling down wells
Or impaling my hand on a fork

But I do tend to impose on people
And then they shy away

I am the man who lies through his teeth.

So I saw this ******* the side of the road today
And she looked at me and asked if I could fix her car (life)
And I said I can't (I can) but I don't want to.

I am the man who doesn't care.

And in the distance the smoke rose from all these fires
That sprung up from our embers
Our wishes

I am the man who doesn't make sense.

I am the man who is opaque.

I am the man who is gone.

Monica,
she said her name was.
Of course I didn't believe her,
but it wasn't important.

What was important,
when she met me
with a cheery professional
smile
at the window
in the waiting room
of Anfu Massage,
was that she was
willing
to take me by the hand
and lead me
down the very dim corridor
into a dimly lit room
with a bed
where she and I shared
an hour of
******
pleasure.

She made me feel
like a great lover
and gave me her best
imitation of passion
so skillfully
that I believed,
because I wanted to,
for that hour
that I was
making love
to my lover.

I used to agonize
and feel guilty about it,
but in this solitary
autumnal season
of my life,
haunted
by the ghosts
of loves lost,
I am grateful
for even this
sweet counterfeit.

And, yes
I revel
in her gentle feminine
warmth,
her softness,
and in the primal
connection
we make.

Somehow, it
feels like
it is keeping my heart
alive.

Am I feeling better now?
Estranged and Deranged, not a single person sitting there to call my name

Am I feeling better now?
Alone in my chest, in my home, in my art, I express from the bottom of my heart, there's a draught letting in the emotional winds

Feeling any better now?
Not much else left to say as  I spill it all out with the pen on the page, chronically feeling on the edge, if this is a window I've jumped off the ledge.

Feel much better now, now it's all vented out, all I've ranted about, no time for self-doubt. I've got a life to live and too much to give to give out, on a single whim.

I guess that's the thing, behind the façade,  I'm still him, still that guy, still the one, still the same, still the same... As the guy I was when we first dated, when we first kissed, hoping that we'll come back from this.

Guess I still have to grow up..

To say I am
Against the wall
Is so cliche.
I am against two.

Cornered by society
And it's influence on people.
Women are manipulative beasts,
Men only exist for carnal pleasure,
And here I am blocked on either side.

What does love
Mean to the world?
For some,
It is lust,
For others,
Merely a word of appreciation.

For me,
It is a word of deep devotion.
I would die before I ever misuse it.
So why is it
That all around me,
People commit an infinite cycle of suicide,
Killing their own souls
With the killing of such value?

I don't want to talk,
Not now,
For words cannot define me,
They are useless,
Incapable of capturing this emotion,
Like a desperate child,
Unable to hold the startled butterfly,
In his too eager hands,
So don't speak, Love,
For a tender, prolonged embrace,
Gives far more comfort

There's a different muse that you can use
who helps stuck writers with the blues.
She wears black vinyl, comes on strong,
and loves to party all night long.

Her pink hair's spiked, her collar too. She
pops her gum while she talks to you.
Her music's loud, and so is she,
she inspired "Bad Company."

She loves to belt, though she can't sing,
she's got a song for everything.
Her specialties are punk and rap--
she'll scream you one in nothing flat.

Just don't ask for love songs, or
she'll flash her tat: reads "Love's a *****!"
Romance? No, she's got no time.
She'll sing you, "Love's no friend of mine:"

"I've been mistreated and abused,
it's love that makes me sing the blues.
I don't want no love no more--
when love walks in, I'm out the door!"

So helpful, when you're feeling that
love's appealing as a road-killed cat.
A real romantic antidote, she'll
sink your boat, if it's still afloat.

Big brown eggs
That most beautiful shape
**** Magnum
Its who you are
Its what absorbs me
All of me into you
Nothing else matters
But me with you
Seen through
Those earthy orbs
Porcelain domes of the land
Making me continent
And a martian planet
Inside and of them
And outside and apart
I love you none-the-less
I love you all the same
Let me kiss your eyes
And watch them fall asleep