Was this what you meant when you said
that you wanted me to feel something?
Because now i’m sitting on the bathroom floor and my
hands are shaking while hot water pours from my eyes.

What did you mean when you said
that you had nobody?
   Because as you said that, I was standing next to you
in the same hole,
the only difference was
that I was covered in cuts and bruises
while you were suffering from
your very first cut.
A nick from your own razor.

While i watched you bawl on the ground,
i felt grateful in some kind of way.
Grateful for the fact that life never
gave me a chance to be so
naive and unguarded,
the blades become a sort of release to remind you that you can still feel.

Who did you want then?
When I stayed.. and you refused my help?
And why did you hate me when I left?

My poetry has potency
I listen to my words

and know it's me
growing in the never ending curse,

of feeling and not showing it
a lesson never learned,

to let go of the echo
when I’m feeling so unsure.

Blurring every line
that I’m toeing up,

looking way behind
and like throwing up,

the person that I was
wasn’t old enough,

to see the stuff
that I’ve done and just slow it up,

I just really wanna hit him,
and tell him the fear is there,

because you let it be
and life won’t be fair.

I know that no one told you,
they were never there.

But here is where you are now
so you better care.

It’s okay to take a moment
hocus pocus on my focus,

theres magic in the habits
that have brought me to my lowest.

Growing by the moment,
yet stuck inside emotions,

the motions that I’m going through
expose a man thats soulless.

tell me about the fact that you never sleep on your left side.
describe every turn, every toss, every other hour where you open your eyes again.
your hand reaches into the humid air, trying to remember the width of my throat.

and isn't that like you? to run your tongue along the taste of piled bones against a torn mattress.

not the heat, not the growls in between,
you are beautiful, i see how you burn for me.

but didn't your mother warn you not to play with fire?
kerosene is unforgiving, my fingers striking the evening in the shape of matches.

and so we scream, you slam your body into mine.
a breath into my neck, just like this, baby?

but don't forget the way my lips burned your skin.
you won't find destruction like this in any other life.

and that is the art of my absence.

so, tell me again how you don't sleep on your left side,
because that's where the fire started.

Coaxed,
Stoaked,
Citer of circumspect alley ways,
Ponderer of all circumference!!!

A lost shadow to a drawn out stage!!

Incurable nausea plants itself beneathe thine nose,
Beneathe thy finest thine Rose!!!

Thou fallen cut down trunk,
Thou Intel gatherer of recordings of political junk!!!

Thy mafiatic hardened heart's department hath closed for many seasons,
For many reasons thou art down and out again!!!

Old adversary,
Oldened friend!!!!

Undergraduate of no sporty coup'e,
No tripped up loop to sway thine interfacial structure!!!
No loving, all clutter, you inhale as you breathe,

Thou daytime innocent,
Thou nightly thief!!!!

Does it shine?
Thine soul that is,
Is it blind, in rewind to remorse, anger and craftiness?
Doth it provoke?
For the devil can do that to!
Art thou up in smoke, riding the cool waves pool!
Dragged down, soaked and heavy!
A glamour shimmers with no error.
For none are fairer.....
Its true self shows when the crowd has dissapeared!!!