Stumbling on the sidewalks
Curving as the sun stops
Dew covered grass tears
Dripping mirror crosswalks
Bones and muscle bend and slip
Walking down the sliver strip
To the bridge that crosses county lines
Midnight
I feel right
Angels cross the star stained sky
Tonight
A good night to die
The edge above the violent sea
Always seemed so calm to me
I guess anything can seem alright
If you look in the right light
Above the waves
Above the moons
Above the stars
Above the hells the devil looms

i'd like to rip out a chunk of each of you
tantalizingly slow, i'll dig my dirt crusted finger tips into your flesh
never breaking eye contact as one after the other
you squirm and beg for mercy

i'll take needles, thick and crusted with rust,
and piece together a patchwork of my broken hearts
watch as all of the things i miss most become one

i'll stare at my conglomerate of lovers and will
find myself swooning the way i often do over all of you,
only this time i won't fear the cavernous plunge to come

how could the most beautiful pieces of all the
men i've ever loved scorn me?
i'll just have to put up with the stench of decomposition

I’m writing this for you Annie,
and I’m writing it with bipolar keys
in rapid speed.

They remain stale in the air. Impatiently waiting
in the glow of the low-lit-monitor. Their purpose
undefined without action.

It’s only for a moment they feel weightless,
harvesting energy - exploding upwards.
Their screams of ecstasy muffled by the resonance
of my key-connecting-finger-snaps.  

Keys in rapid speed.

You constantly fight off these words,
Like it's something on,
Your beauty is as deep as your cuts,
If unmarked it couldn't prove more,
Nothing could duplicate the necessities that pull me to you,
Still, sprint, drag: My actions are clear,
I Move,

Tomorrow starts the same but I count the days,
I'll litter my memory so I don't have to miss you,
Please define what I can't seem to find,
And let anxiety wade and absences fade,
Bear me with your threats so I can feel,
But omit my pain like you omit your happiness,
I Trust,

Maybe I'll sink into you as lovers often do,
And re-create your thoughts if you are so bold,
It could only mean the future that I want, so bold,
If emotions contradict, then it won't unfold,
My lonliness argues as you speak the truth,
No need for conviction and desperation,
I Create.

Smile.
I miss always being behind one,
But I'm too tempermental by the things you say to me,
There's always another happiness to **** time,
And I'm convinced you can't bite your tongue,
But you just as easily bit mine.

Lay down, think of silly things, and feel seventeen,
Stop moving and don't breathe, it's so serene,
For all we know we were built to last,
But I'm the only one to acknowledge that,
I wouldn't hurt so often if I didn't mean it,
But those words are as tender as the scars on your wrists.

Unpredictable.
You ask, "Will my car drive today?"
My reply, "I don't know. Will my heart die today?"

My conclusion was
that because people
are animal-like
in our human
nature,
most of us always feel the
need to belong.
Which the possibility
of having
everyone
in the world
believing that
they belong
is brilliant and beautiful.
& If it was
dealt
in a pure form,
not laced,
not bought from a shady dealer.
Suicide probably
wouldn't happen
so much.

Your lips, dry blood and thin bone fingers
I fear of I sleep I will dream of you again
I will awake in that same cold air
In thick heavy armor
My sweat cold against my skin
A drop rolls down my neck
As I open the same door

The runes carved on the door
Seemingly, by fingernails
All covered in dust and cobwebs
Beyond the window the dark of the yard
Her scream through the window
With her teeth and nails barred at my throat
The knife in my boot
I jabbed at a kidney and felt the blade go through
As smoke

The moon sits on my
tongue.
Like snow, it melts, drops
of winter, cold white wine,
like I ****** the light out of a
lightning bug, lemony glow coating
my teeth.
I swallow the moon.
I swallow it like I swallow words,
raspberries to crush against the roof of
my mouth.
I want to eat all the words in the world,
every last one sitting warm and
ready in my belly, spoons of honey or
hot metal,
or cold and hard in my throat like
stones or cool cucumber slices.
I want them to
fill me, clutter my thoughts and lungs and
settle under my nails and on the tips of my
eyelashes to dust
my face every
time I
blink.