I know that I’m small
And tend to build structures too tall,
They inevitably weaken;
Crack, crumble, and fall.
The ruins in this beaten chamber,
A reminder- a cratered scar,
A place for me to sink into the filth
and idly crawl.

To hide from heights of hope,
To run away from your calls.
Get rid of you in thought,
And heart

Abandon all.

-SLuR

Anger boundless,
Boundless as sky

Boundless as love
Or infinity.

Not scared to die
How scared to ****
May boundless anger
Be
___

Hemingway hit 60

Shotgun muzzle-
Brain gone.

My muzzle-
No shotgun-

Carry on-
Carry on
__

You are different.

So what

I used to call her every night,
The black spiral cord stretched far and tight;
My changing voice kept to a whisper,
Against the hinges of the hallway door.

I used to write her every day
When she lived sixty miles away;
Sent thoughts and verses that I wrote,
Sealed my love in a white envelope.

We came together.
We grew together.
Then grew apart.

What would we do
If we got back?
What could we say.
How would we act.
I've Romanticized on that.
The memory of us.

While lying on my couch,
The sun breaks through,
Moving across my closed eyes;
If I open them,
Could you be standing in the room,
Then sitting beside me,
Hand on my head and hair,
Asking, am I okay.

It wouldn't stay this way.

The memory of us
Is sweeter in the thought.

Today you live not far from me,
But a greater distance than it used to be,
When we were sixty miles apart.

I was not the original son
A first page
A number one
I was always the period
At the end
The quotation marks
That were left undone

I was the pause
That separates
That feeling you get
That you came too late
The one who stood
outside the door
When inside were passed
Out the fates

So I've come
To walk around
Those now living in the ground
Where in the dark there is no light
None to much to talk about
Just my breath the only sound

I have come here
To settle down
Upon this space
My hallowed ground
My favorite stone
upon which I sit
Beside the ties they left unbound

With the Dead
I hold my court
There are no groans
They don't exhort
The chase is done
The horns have sounded
Hark the chords of a la mort

Until dawn
A captive audience
I hold down
My midnight's deviance
Until first light
Threatens with
Complete radiance

To smile
Not knowing
Whether you mean it
It hurts