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mature man
holding his nose
to life
desires young woman
who
is indifferent to
oranges
and longs for those
days
before umbrellas
bleached
beneath
a 10 kilowatt
moon
anticipating
geometry
the smell
of soap
that same
instant
calling into
question
bisexuality
without flesh
or
the vibration
of blood
Me muero a diario, a veces para ver quien me extraña.
Otras para encontrarme con personas que ya están muertas,
O para estar sola; me muero a diario.

Me muero porque se me va la vida.
Porque me ahoga la almohada,
Porque mi botella de Merlot esta vacía.
Porque el viento no me canta; me muero.

Muero, y los colores desaparecen
Las letras se derriten y a mis versos
Se los lleva el mar.
Me muero.

No hay luz que ilumine mis caminos,
No hay voces que me atormenten,
Solo es un vacío oscuro, un abismo.
Ahí he caído, ahí he muerto.
De esos días que suelo morirme, y solo el puede revivirme.
 Mar 2015 maybe marc
Matt Fatt
i act like i'm something special
when we all know nothing is
and the people sit there and they judge me
for the all stupid **** that i did

but I've woken up sweating in jail cells
sick from all the DTs and shakes
and i watched the woman i loved
leave a week before our wedding date

and i can remember the first time a pig
put his gun against my ******* head
said "make a move you ******* ******
and i swear to god that i'll shoot you dead"

i've seen more friends than i care to remember
passed out with needles in their veins
i've wept beside to many grave sides
to ever wanna go that way

i've shredded my throat since i was twelve
smoking a minimum two packs a day
and even at my very worst
i still can't bring myself to pray

i've lost far too much in this world
for someone whose not yet twenty five
all i can say at the end of the day is
"though i may fail at least i try"

so i sit back and let people judge me
cause they don't know the **** i've been through
and i'll keep saying i'm something special
even though we all know its not true
 Mar 2015 maybe marc
Matt Fatt
a screaming boundless energy ripped from the endless swirling nights of utter catastrophic, discontented, virile, violent youths seemingly fixated upon the physically aesthetic pleasure of a life lived for hedonistic exhibition, constant thrusting, constant grunting, constant ecstasy, numbing pain brought forth for a lost and listless generation of juvenile delinquents in there mid twenties playing adults games in the spastic frame of minds torn apart by a strive to explore the deepest far beliefs beyond the picket fence Christianity our fore father's passed to you and me, no more crosses, far more genders, no more rosaries, far more pleasures shouting a laugh and loving a cry for our emotions aren't stunted by a carry on routine that we don't need to make a day by day existence bearable to the the least of our excessive masses whilst our mothers and father's are no longer just parents but acceptive friends we speak to when the dark flows in and making our lives that much better no more roles, no more cashing in, disregarding contractual obligation for the freedom to stick your thumb out and make a difference for a single human a twenty minute ride at a time before standing in basements discussing artists not heard on the radio but found through the mouths of cis and trans and neutrals and sought out to make a webbing of friends of friends spanning the nation and world connected by sobriety and beer and cigarettes and edge during the screaming restlessness we make our play dates out to be in a whirling endless sunlit darkness of vanity and fameless torment of grins lit by our want to eat, want to breathe, want to be, a quixotic banner unfurled upon those that still judge the person who stands in a crowd and let's out his lions roar of ecstatic, emphatic, explosive individuality, well traveled townies aching for the former freedom of our cave dwelling ancestors finding solace in having convictions of there teenage dreams that no establishment managed to rip away despite an overwhelming conspiracy of conformity and grief of Orwellian nature brought upon by a status quo that we just won't believe, ever striving, ever reaching, you won't stop us, can't be seen during the maddening dreariness of a seemingly beautiful system that you scratch the surface to see the ugliness of a misanthropic government wanting only to lead you by your nose and by your crotch to the final destination no more dreaming, only scheming, we have our own systems set in place of anarchistic communal daydreaming laze ever combating one another before hugging out our differences because the final magnificence is the blinding beauty of a thousand different minds unable to form a hive brain because we will never be your hive we will never be your home we will only be your friend and you will never be alone again as long as you are willing to be your ever bursting personification of your own self beliefs and as far as we can go we will bring an ******* flowing running start to all we see, always loving, always loving, an appreciative closeness sung from our aloofness to those we once sought to impress for our own destructive tendencies were ripped away and replaced with a system of URLs which allow us to voice our free and feisty opinion of anything and everything, no more hiding, no more dying, a slapstick routine twisted in and mixed with the single shallow want of pureborn liberty no constitution needed to be free just the voice in your head not believing a society that tries to pigeonhole your looks and *** and orientation and soul, so long parties, we are free, we are I, I am me.
Red
Like our love
My veins still have remains
Something I cannot get rid of
And it’s you

In fact
The blood test came back
Like my suicide pact
Positive for you

Orange
Resembling the Icelandic poppies
That I planted within my heart
But they are just copies
Of what used to be beautiful

Like the burning impression
Left by your lips
Not as strong as my depression
But still close

Yellow
As bright as the sun
Giving me warmth on my darkest days
Yet you were done
Right as the clouds rolled in

It’s ironic how something
So fluffy
Is crushing
My inner hopefulness

Green
Accompanied with my illness
As you’re ******* that guy
I know it’s none of my business
But still

It brings a form of serenity
Perhaps because you
Finally found your identity
*******

Blue
That’s what my hair bleeds
When I rinse you off me
Identical to a field of weeds
Tangled and knotted

I feel so astronomical
Higher than the galaxies
Yet it feels anatomical
To be down here with you


Purple
Coloring in my bruises
From your thoughts
Popped fuses
I’m on overload

Like your excuses
In why you didn’t love me
So why don’t we reintroduce
Each other

So this may never happen again.
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