how easy it is to write a poem
of unrequited love
an ode to that insatiable hunger
that lives unwelcome in the pit of
my stomach
and slowly eats away at me
gnawing a black hole into that space
an emptiness i couldn't look at
its darkness burned brighter than
the eclipsed sun
who always called with the most
beautiful voice and promised that
if i simply stopped averting my eyes
i would most certainly become one with you
and i forsake my sight
to have your heat
your radiation from all parts of the spectrum
to burn my traitorous eyes right out of their sockets.

how different it is to write
of contentment and perhaps even
a love that i can reach out and touch
without having it sublimate each atom of my being
and reduce me to a radioactive ash
scattered to the wind.

it's a love that i can submerge myself in
it presses in all around and the
mega-Pascals of pressure simply reach
a placid equilibrium with my porous skin
i breathe it in and my lungs
somehow learn to pull the oxygen from
the molecules of liquid desire and vitreous joy
and it fuels my body
infiltrating and inhabiting every cell
feeding my muscles as i
sensuously move my body
fluid as the frigid water around me.

you say it's not about the ***
but the declaration does nothing
to ***** the boiling terror
to shoo away that yawning hole
digging deeper and deeper
into the root system of my ribs
tilling the lush soil that is
my traitorous stomach
and ever shrinking lungs
it uproots me
grinds the stump where I once stood
a towering oak
or was I only ever a sapling
that was snapped in half
severed the exact moment
that the floodgates opened
and the raging storms remnants
poured forth unshackled by the walls
I carefully constructed around my trembling heart
how I screamed when they fell
the resounding crash
of my fingers digging into your back
pulling you closer
and closer
I can't stop wanting you closer
to inhabit that feeling
the safety of a harbor in a storm
you somehow can protect me
from the radioactive wasteland
that I am still traversing
dodging gamma rays of manic frenzy
and alpha particles heavy with the
black hole that swears it will consume all of me
its final sacrifice demanded my life
how can I trust this?
when the reality of the matter is
you are no lead apron
absorbing the radiation for me
some kevlar vest that can ever protect me
from the bullets of vitriolic bile I hurl inward
not to mention grenades thrown my way
by wayward neural firings
which find me craving my blood
a box of razors is
a box of friends
and reality diverges into an orthogonal plane.
you could be snatched from me
you are a small worm on
the biggest hook to make the juiciest
most succulent amuse bouche
for a big world of sharks
how ******* stupid am I
to be a fisherwoman who has
fallen in love with her bait?

I look forward to seeing him everyday.

What is this torture?

How do I stop castigating myself
and throwing myself prostrate
on the burning coals
those spitting embers
spider web cracks
spreading like contaminants
foreboding of the epidemic to come
intricate designs carrying grave warnings.

I tremble.

I have never trembled before.

Not in response to the mere
idea
that image in my head of
his arm tenderly around my shoulders
to shelter me from the inevitability of the future
the dancing spectre of his face
lingering in the goose flesh
that breaks out like a cold sweat
when my heart aches
and my mind cries out in anguish
at the terror and sheer immensity of
that crushing longing.

Never have I wanted so wantonly
a wildfire consuming
ravaging every inch of my world
reducing me to a snarling beast
bared teeth
hair standing on edge to lash out
the power of the entire universe
pulsing through my veins.

A mother’s love pales
to the ferocity of my fight.

I have nothing to lose
I have seen the mountaintop
I have seen the destruction
the darkness and storms which
lie ahead for the burning chasm of
pain and beauty and love
that is my very essence
and I must continue
I must go there and know
that I can survive the gale winds
and the pelting rain
slapping my face
with a lace glove
as if that could somehow insulate me
from the sting of your absence
and the looming murky world
that you leave in your wake
expecting my gratitude
for the silt and dust that hangs around me
whose hollow presence
doesn’t keep me warm at night.

I feel my control
slipping through my fingers
the sieve through which my power is filtered
and I am left with only the dregs
why did you have to come here?

Why did I listen to your whisper
to open my eyes and
see
and have your face be the first
image haloed in the sun’s glorious offering
of light
bathing my retina in the warm liquid matrix?

How long could I have held onto hope
that two parallel lines
could one day diverge from their path
their arrow-straight shot to infinity
and converge
to know that touch for even a fraction of
a femtosecond?

How long will I continue my self deception?
To listen to the dulcet tones of that uninhibited
purr in the back of my mind
which exists outside of knowledge and logic
inhabiting the world of unmentionable desire
a longing that I suppress
a wanting that I can never trust.

Crumbling facades and fading frescos
are all that lie ahead
as time’s march crushes all dreams
under its steel-toed boot
stealing everything away from me
until I subsist on arid dust
and musty, time-worn clocks.

i miss the dancing
and the unextinguishable lightness
of neon taffy sun rays
their barbed tails dripping
with honey as skates
flutter their wings in harmony
to stir sand and silt
and muddy waters
shatter crystal crysalises
cast shadow on frozen aquatic scenes
sandpaper skin
camouflages cartilaginous confessions

there is no dancing
in suspended animation
cryo-tanks where duplicitously drumming hearts
are stopped cold
atomic vibrations not buzzing
nor breathing objects
calling vivaciously to be consumed

tear me open
release the sensuous siren
whose diaphanous frocks
whip wildly in her
placid pirouette and
caresses my face like
a mother’s hand wiping away
tears which released the pain
that constant inescapable pressure
lance my skin
and bring forth that vile contaminant
slice the membrane around my heart
and in my crimson blood
in my metallic olfactory orchestra
separate dissonance from coalescence
and understand my conundrum
distill my banned message
and decode my heart.

will you still think of me
when the winter’s snow
like ****** needles sticking
and pricking me
slamming your smack
mainlining your masochism
melts to pastel pink mornings
and pregnant dewdrops
gravity propelling them
down flower petal water slides?
will my taste loiter on your lips
will the memory of my touch
my ghost fingers
still leave erupting goose-bumps
your hair standing on end
my unalloyed current
sparking into the night of kerosene.
will the fire bring me to mind?
my face engraved on your memory
like a holy icon
to which you run when the flames
rage as far as you can see
the orange haze of ******
and the hoard of children running
blistered skin
and their screams piercing
gouging
each wearing your face.

waiting in the queue for heaven..
dying for the moment
sweet bliss in the
waiting
clouds of white in roads of diamonds
raining ecstasy
blue tabs onto the damp of my rough tongue
eyes closed
sensing the quiet and the stillness

waiting in the queue for heaven...
angels passing by
just regular people
and jesus walking his dog
waves pink sweet colors
onto the requiem for a dream
lost on the back of my eyelids
forever

waiting in the queue for heaven...
music playing
just the silence of a circling record
magical
rich in its fullness empty
whilst i'm waiting in the queue for heaven.

and i struggle to find the words
when normally they grow
like weeds in fertile land
choking out the crops
the sustenance to feed the frenzied masses
calling for blood
and crucifixion of an idea
they don't understand.

and then the words are too much
they fall in torrents
raindrops bigger than beach *****
patter like needles onto my head
each one an explosion of liquid
courage to feed my disembodied mind.

and i fly.