It Starts
when he carves a home into your heart,
shoots a bullet between your ears
and scratches his name under your eyelids.
he controls you, he is on top,
and you are nothing but the cheap *****
and five dollar cigarettes you taste like.
and again again again he will whisper
‘i love you i love you iloveyou’
like he is promising the world.
you know he’s only promising another bruise
right on your nerves,
and another night spent anything but alone.
no matter how hard you try to
push him
out.

And Then
after a while, you lose yourself
like you did before,
when you weren’t black and blue.
you promise yourself better
while you let the bad leak out
and drink your own good in.
every time you try to let him out,
and make everything scar over,
somehow he gets back in, but deeper.
in deeper than the bullet between your eyes,
the knife between your veins,
the cracks in your mirror.
and it stings more than the
spiderweb gashes on the backs
of your
hands.

In The End
you will beg and plead and scream
‘i love you i love you iloveyou’
again and again and ‘again’.
he’ll lose his nerve like you lost your breath,
‘again please again’ like you lost your heart,
‘please god just one more time’
like you
lost
your
mind.

I’ve memorized my ceiling.
Every unruly pattern
embroidered to the plaster,
ugly and confusing
constellations in the shadows.

My fatigued brain can no longer
differentiate between dust motes and sunlight.

I want to destroy something beautiful.
Some things need to be
written between heartbeats.
To appreciate nostalgia
you must forget it comes
in soul crushing waves.

I want to sleep for a hundred years
arms of silence winding around my head.
My fingers are slow to curl,
every limb weighs me down.
I’m faced with a puzzle

What is origami.
Where can I burn paper cranes.

A relaxed *** of tea complements
the tide that inhales the sand and
all the possibilities
that come with blackberry brambles.
Something about blue
makes you fall in love with the sky.

We’re standing on the roof
Drunk off cheap whiskey
Yelling obscenities
Sometime in the a.m.
Below us two girls are French kissing
They look so sweet in their blue jeans.
**** reality,
We're livin' the teenage dream.

This morning I woke up with a scratch on my glasses.
I don't know how they got there, I was asleep.
My world was turned upside down because of my glasses.
Something so small, so subtle, but so key.
Once divine, now earthly, my glasses once were.
Lost in a turning cave of batter I feel like dough.

It is not the sun that lights my path.
It never will and never has.
And as age slowly cripples me
I realize, without the sun I'll ever be.

In this time of plastic body parts,
A culture with no concept of art,
Lit by the fake and fluorescent suns,
Where the only language heard comes from the mouth
                                                    ­                               of a gun

I am not alone in this dark and natural dankness.
We are children who grow|and are thankless.
We cannot even dream of open spaces.
The television reflects a bleak reality on our faces.

It's a time of war|the enemy is everyone.
Time has stopped in this world void of sun.
All that's left is the intent to ****.
And our only way out is to simply stand still.