paper hurts the same
way life hurts:
strip all of the dense air away
as the margins of our memories collide
with the graphite of our instrument of pain.
words.
shelter us with your actions
and as the mind wants to get foggy
so do the memories of that everlasting change.
thoughts are nothing but the imagination,
uncontrollable because let's be real:
reality *****.
and as the words begin to flow
so do those thoughts.
they appear.
it rumbles my consciousness and
stirs those repressed feelings.
the unspeakable.
the hatred.
the sorrow.
the love.
and I just lament my feelings into the paper
because I know the pencil won't hurt me.
and i keep on writing and writing and writing
till the rush of death sweeps over me
and Lord knows
I just want it to end.
So I write.
I write some more.
And as my hand because just as numb as my
heart,
I know it's over.

You are like a cigarette** burning in my lungs with a speed of paper turning to raven ash when lighted up,

You flick you lighter, within your fingers, within your lips lies the taste of my blood

This road that we took, this love turned out be threaded together in such a way, that we could never unravel it

You puff out my love like the swirls of smoke disappearing in the thin air; I choke on the hardened state of your words like tar

This road isn’t being paved, it’s being dug unevenly from every breathing space, and the smoke is filling up in my lungs the way your ashtray is with cig butts

Overflowing, like the course of this relationship

Breathe in my lungs something other than acidic bruises, won’t you neutralize it?

Won’t you even stop and look back to all the things that we had, that we lost in the fire,

Look at my burned body and tell me you regret it, look at my cancer filled mouth infected by your diseased words and tell me you never meant to light my lungs on fire

Tell me, ****  tell me, you never meant to steal my voice, and abandon my love, choking me from inside,

My body giving up, lungs collapsing in the harsh winter night underneath the starless sky, the moon lost beyond the clouds, no savior

You are like Lucifer, I never understood the transition, and I could never breathe in the courage inside of my lungs opposing your vacant soul

You are like a cigarette but even at our end you’ll cant burn me out, I’ll be an more than this, I’ll be IV, trying to survive even when my body is more ash than blood

she always thought that she would die
like marilyn, a still life of beauty, of release,
painted in pain and silk sheets,
and sometimes life does hold that image,
but never death.

she wasn't ready-
that’s what she tells me.
she doesn't tell me much, though.

gossamer skin wrapping bird bones
into a lithe bundle named vivica,
soft curls spilling
claims her head’s always spinning,
always swimming in the sea of pills
she swallowed

i hear her hollow voice
singing or sobbing- i can never tell,
but it plays softly every night,
sometimes in whispers,
a symphony of stories
she weaves about her past,
lulling me to sleep so easily,
and i dream of a sorrowful, lost, lonely family,
missing their melodic daughter, sister, mother,
missing their train wreck beauty queen,
missing a woman lost in time,
missing vivica.

I lie and listen to her breathing
like the whisper of seduction.

The murmur of a promise
the sigh of a summer breeze.

The scrape of the chair
the roar of an engine.

The sand in my trainer
water gurgling through the pipes.

The turn of the wheel.
The meaning of my words.

Back to tranquillity
and she is once more

the wine in my glass
the cork in my bottle.

Marks to my Spencer
my chip ‘n’ pin.

The stone in my cherry
the warm breathe of the oven door.

Candyfloss at the fair
Blood in my veins.