She wanted space-time
so I left the dimension
to return only when
my name was mentioned.

It is selfish but
we long for stability.
Someday, we will die.

© Matthew Harlovic

Close. Welcoming. My
name. David. Absurdly—I mean, out of
tune. Ordinary language permits
the paraphrase:

Things could have been. But
actually are. Countless ways,
certain descriptions. To consider,
“ways things could have been.”

Things might be. The possibilities,
the propositions, the structures.

© Matthew Harlovic

what a day, what a week,
what a month, what a year.
what a time to be alive,
what a time to drive off the pier and disappear.

i thrive in fear so don’t revive me,
it deprives me of what i hold dear.
let me lie beside me, my friends,
my family and peers.

© Matthew Harlovic

you are surreal
from what i see, i feel.

kneel before me, i'll reveal
the brush i paint the faint of heart with.

i give color to the artless,
i give color to the darkness

but you my darling,
you are my artist.

© Matthew Harlovic

Since I’m too hardheaded for a gunshot,
I’ll wait for these thoughts
to fade like phases of sunspots.

© Matthew Harlovic

I will not sugar coat the truth anymore
with similes and metaphors.
I may have a sweet tooth for wordplay
but not for fabrication.

© Matthew Harlovic

Love was in the air
causing cardiac arrest
but **you held your breath

© Matthew Harlovic

I feel a bit tense
because my love
for you exists in
the past tense.

© Matthew Harlovic

i'm sorry if i hurt you
but you deserve the
best and i'll take the
time to study for this
test of virtue.  

© Matthew Harlovic

The early bird croons
seducing the morning worm.
Mother cries softly.

© Matthew Harlovic

The front seat is full
of coffin nails, Bic lighters,
and mutilation.

©  Matthew Harlovic

How do I push away the ones who love me the most?
And for what? A burning bush and a chat with a ghost?
Engrossed in the outermost region of thought.
I’ve seen quite a lot; believe it or not.
I sought therapy to discuss my problems
but my trust issues make it tough to solve them.
I must admit the moment we kissed
the world and its the chaos didn’t exist.

© Matthew Harlovic

I sink inside my head
and think about the things I said.
But I often find myself in bed,
catching a wink.
If the world really lies on a thin thread,
am I a fragile link?
If I blink,
will everything I love
and hold dear disappear?
Why do we use such an expression to perpetuate the fear of loss?
Here I thought I beveled and embossed
the impression but it’s just another load
of dross.

© Matthew Harlovic

I toss and turn at night nervous the inferno might
swallow me whole if I leave a light burning bright
so I keep to a crawlspace that I call my room.
Home alone, roll the stone, seal me in this tomb.
The Lord will heal me soon. Has the Spirit always loomed
over me since youth? Where's the proof to back the truth?
I opened up about my life of doom-and-gloom to a sleuth
who replied with nothing from across the booth.

© Matthew Harlovic

On my hands and knees,
I peeped over the board
Momma did you see?
There was a squid with tentacles like extension cords!
Oh! Never mind it swam away…

On my hands and knees,
I crept to the edge
Momma did you see?
There was a shark as big as the front yard hedge!
Oh! Never mind it swam away…

On my hands and knees,
I snuck to the brink
Momma did you see?
There was an eel that could fill up the kitchen sink!
Oh! Never mind it swam away…

Momma! Momma! Come look, come quick!
I think there’s more! Oh wait! Forget it…

© Matthew Harlovic

I’ll show you the ropes,
Step one: tie a noose

© Matthew Harlovic

I think* that overthinking will be the death of me.

© Matthew Harlovic

I cut my wrist on a blade of grass as I tried to bury the past.

© Matthew Harlovic

Seconds turn to minutes,
minutes turn to hours,
hours turn to days,
days turn to weeks,
weeks turn to weakness
and I give in.

© Matthew Harlovic

I'm here for you,
always and forever.
Whoever you are,
wherever you are,
just know,
I'm here for you.

© Matthew Harlovic

to them or they
here's a brief overview
find me on a bad day
i'll hurt both of you

© Matthew Harlovic

There’s pills, potions
but nothing truly can cure my emotions

© Matthew Harlovic

Once the positive trending tags
outweigh the negatives,
we’ll find continuity
within our contemplation,
our emotional state,
and our existence.
But as the negative trending tags
outweigh the positives,
our continuity will be conflicted.

© Matthew Harlovic

You only fail if you fail to try, Try it.

© Matthew Harlovic

I tried, it's true and what we once had was tried-and-true
and I'd be lying if I said you haven't tried it too.

© Matthew Harlovic

You only fail if you fail to try
Keep trying.

© Matthew Harlovic

For every two steps forward, you take one step back,
but you are still one step further from where you were at.

© Matthew Harlovic

I wonder if my friends saw you at prom last night,
parading around with your new boyfriend.
I’m sure all stink eyes were on you two,
but you always seemed to like that attention.
I thought you would accompany me to the dance
this year, but you chose to find your own company.
I thought this prom would make up for the one
I never went to, but you didn’t give me the chance.
I know you remember my prom night
because you were there and so was your little brother.
I chose to hang out with you, my best friend,
and go to a movie instead. Though when the talk
about the wonders of prom rolled around, I knew
it meant a lot to you and so I promised to take you,
but I see that my promise will remain unfulfilled.

© Matthew Harlovic

Our Father, hails Mary,
the mother of a coward.

© Matthew Harlovic

how could i delude someone who
put themselves through and through
black, blue and purple hues
hurtful words and the certain few
who circulate skewed conclusions
illusions and preconceptions
on the dimensions of perfection
when such a mention doesn’t exist
because tensions persist and fits
are thrown as much as fists.
i wish beauty didn’t consist
of “haves” and “have not's”
when this image is all i have got.

© Matthew Harlovic

My music is like Velcro:
hooks and loops fastened together.

© Matthew Harlovic

Astraea ascends
for innocence entails love,
goodbyes are the worst.

© Matthew Harlovic

I’m not a smooth talker,
I can’t sweep you off your feet
but I’ll walk with you longer
than your shadow does down the street.

© Matthew Harlovic

you called me trash, a piece of garbage
so i collected myself and analyzed what
i brought to the table.
i thought about what i could manage
and determined the effectiveness of
my current strategies
but i concluded that i wasted my
time sorting through my problems.

© Matthew Harlovic

Waste (wāst) v. 1. To use, consume, spend, or expend thoughtlessly or carelessly: For hours on end we laid waste beneath the plastered moon. 2. To cause to lose energy, strength, or vigor; exhaust, tire, or enfeeble:  The tar wasted her lungs. 3. To fail to take advantage of or use for profit; lose: You wasted an opportunity to be with me. 4. a. To destroy completely. b. Slang. To ****; ******. The cigarettes wasted our relationship. 5. Garbage; trash. You had the audacity to choose to keep them than throw them in the waste basket.  6. Regarded or discarded as worthless or useless. You were a waste of my time.

© Matthew Harlovic

every dog has its day,
every day has its dog
if you claw your way
into the lap of the gods.

© Matthew Harlovic

This morning,
my father and I
chased leaves together
after we argued for an hour
on relationship complexities.
And after a while of paved palms,
he bellowed with a fistful of yellow,
when you waver with the wind,
things will fall in your favor.
Since this morning, the wind
has been wavering Eastward.

© Matthew Harlovic

There’s a widow in the windowsill
weeping like a willow, weeping like a willow
while her child tries to fall asleep
weeping in his pillow, weeping in his pillow.

© Matthew Harlovic

“The side of her head is shaved,
isn’t that weird?”
Afraid to admit my attraction,
I nodded in agreement.

And in a low voice
I responded with,
“yeah, weird…”
Yet again he pointed out,

“Look at her septum piercing!
Doesn’t she look like Benny the Bull?”
I looked away. Under my breath
I said, “I think…she’s cute.”

My friend turned
with simpering eyes.
“Really? Cute?
You’re a ****** too.”

I looked up, “I’m not weird.
I just think she’s pretty,
that’s all.”
He scoffed,

“Nah man, you’re really weird.
Tattoos and piercings aren’t attractive,
they’re weird but I guess weirdos
are attracted to other weirdos.

Flustered, I looked up to him.
“So what?  Punk rock is pretty.
At least I’m not a pretentious ******* like you.”
And with that, I left him there.

© Matthew Harlovic