your scars are hollowed out parts from loss and grief
he fills that lonely silence with rage, anger, questions
things you don't let yourself feel

but it's okay. you don't have to when he does that for you.

and when you learned to be angry, kicked aside and unmoored
he told you that can feel good
for a while.
but when it's right to leave the anger in the past,
to see it for the vehicle it is (but never truly lose the fire)
there's peace. a still, righteous kind

for so long you didn't get it because the surface is still
it took a long time to venture into the water
but now it's an ocean you call home

sometimes you don't really remember what it was like before you could swim

when it's dark, the ocean holds you
holds you up and lets you see the moon and the stars
he looks up too

there must be loss in nearly losing someone to illness, too
it must be what he's felt and carried
you don't feel bitterness about that now
you know what it means to love fiercely
distance, geography, geology and even planes be ******

you know what it feels like to lay it out there
how important it is to have just one or two humans accept it
even just one who really understands

you can barely imagine it, but it makes sense that he's this amazing
when so many people accept what he's been through
understand it
have made it to today because he chose to do so

after so long, what feels like being poisoned
you throw up
wash off
stand up
and start dancing again

that's liberation

the past isn't shackles, it's a reminder
the past is memory
the brain always relives, never just remembers

remembering is what language is
putting past pain on a page, even in pixels
is a way of knowing that it's over
that we can only say this because we're in the present

art and surviving are one and the same
this is your one conviction
for you, it's blood deep
but it doesn't need to be
just landing on the surface, it's felt

screams, growls, voice cracks
the smell of burning
the grind of a guitar
with your skin, your ears, eyes and nose
you took it in

you know it changed you yet again
you're softer
opened up like a lotus

and hungry

what's even more beautiful
than coming to now
is heading to tomorrow
running, skipping, flying
even if sometimes you're crawling

it's never too late
you find it when you need it most

starting over and over

there isn't such a thing as goodbye

and it is certain, as certain as wisps of hope and grey smoky prayers can be

that although distance clambers before us, the moon as i see it is the same for you

the days and the nights and the schedules – to hell with them

for all i know we are breathing together, we are inhaling and exhaling as one

two bodies, as one in our mind’s eye

and i cannot help but to feel over every pore what it feels like when your hand flattens against my neck

it burns through my skin even as i sit here, eyes closed to a bright sphere which passed your vision hours earlier

i shudder as the sweet burn runs through me like honey straight from the jar

sugar travels fast and far, on the backs of trillions of ants like stars splayed across the earth

and the earth is just a canvas where we paint our struggles

though i hum at the bursting sparkles above many atmospheres

they do not keep an account of the way your tongue creeps past your lips and onto mine

only the earth knows the way our gaits come together and our bodies exist at the same level

stretched out between us, from one son’s antennae to another’s

the Queen entertains stories of those eyes that i miss, thick black crescents soft against my face

things immeasurable, things untold, things i do not own

you only share these with me but my access to the feelings they leave behind is limitless

the distances i would travel for you to remind me of what i already know, is something the moon understands

despite all else

it is heavy and slow but it always returns, waiting for the inevitable yet dynamic

if you tell me tomorrow what i want to hear today, i’ll get your message on time

just whisper it with those rosy lips of yours and my ears will open their arms to you

better yet, scream you love me into the quiet night sky and the sun will vibrate, causing the moon to chuckle

the ants will find me first

i sit here and i echo

i love you i love you i need you i’m with you i crave you every breath

until we breathe no longer i’ll say it and i’ll listen

we only speak it in breaths apart

i want those words, oh how i need to hear them in person

and i’ll swim oceans and levitate just to hear you again

tell me what i already know

i’m listening with my lungs

——-

and it’s my worst nightmare

there’s no humanity in your eyes

no warmth in your flesh

have i begged for this?

i chose wrong

taking for granted the ways this game might change

a twist of rules

a banishment of choices

a destruction of agreements

what were all the decisions i made for?

do i lack any will at all?

are my choices not even my own?

i fail to grasp a single shard of life in the collapsing reality

i am unable to obtain a sliver of self, of power, of will

as it bursts around me

i’m on my knees

barely breathing

i must be dreaming

visions flash before my eyes

hot red beams bore into my skin from above

all there is is destruction

all there is is death

touch me or don’t, i said

there are no hands to hold me now

no vessel to capture me

no defenses

and no hope

without hopes, without shared understanding and a direction

this is what becomes of heroes

this is what becomes of harlots

pirates and prostitutes in my memory

curse me, mock me

i feel nothing of it

i am not floating, i am not sailing

the stars are out of reach, i am beneath all matter

there is an unforgiving blackness all around

giving way to more vicious palettes;

a dark whispering grey

echoing tones of a dying sunset

and blood stains from centuries ago

in my mind i am running

i am escaping

towards the light

but all i feel is gravel beneath me

rough and real

slate, threatening

the devil is a painter

the canvas is smeared and ripped, dripping red and grey and black

beneath me it is red and grey

it is hopelessness

half is a haunting color that brings images of that menacing light

the evil tearing me limb from limb

bloodshed

another tone symbolizes an uncertain frame of time

not a forever

no time at all, perhaps

it is pain, it is ashes

the whispers of the fallen fill my lungs and i am on the verge of  sinking

down through the gravel

i endure the red beams and raise my gaze

hoping for some break in the darkness

a single speck of starlight, a gasp of warmth

but in your eyes i can only see

the world at its end, flames and the desperate wilting of all that is good

speechless and breathless and hopeless

more than wounded

i am finished, the die is cast

but it is not over

down but not broken

weak but not perished

stained scarred marred torn and cut

but here

here for me

not broken, nor maimed, not torn – in spirit

knowing hands adorned with glitter

hands that still my heavy sobs

heal my wounds, so small

steady my breathing

your flooded chest

my eyes drown

gentle hands still

no eruption

no great burst of light nor dark

just you, me

breathing

alive

she is alive

my mother.

so i am here, yet again.

'wish i could be on a train far away.'

oh, i spend far too much time on trains. i tell her.

she smiles and says how about we fly.

i wrap my wings around her and close my eyes tightly.

i pray that she isn’t there when my eyelids spring back.

she’s on that train.

that train to nowhere, far from me.

that cold, unforgiving steel piercing her again and again.

she couldn’t fly away. even if she tried, she couldn’t soar above the wreckage.

i couldn’t cry hard enough. tears couldn’t be wet enough.

time couldn’t be short enough.

i refuse to look above – i know she isn’t there. she’s falling.

she’s nothing.

she’s gone.

I want to speak your language. The language of warfare. Intellectual fornication. Lewd romance.

I want your socio. Your mad scientist. I want your hot breath and the touch of your whip.

I want your contradictions and your lies. Your formulas and numbers. I want your cold, cold hands upon mine.

he’s like a lighter
and when I look at him
I start sweating gasoline

crimson electricity surging throughout my core
the blood in my veins becomes magma
afraid to let it loose for it could have me skinned,
I aim to cool my desire behind lies more wretched than even my wishes

my eyes flicker silhouettes of the internal battle
as I watch him, vigor and all
Painting the world his own shade of red

he continues to move forward while a blaze floats around my helpless form.
the wind, though powerful and almost solid, is hardly relief from the smoldering attack


his gaze pierces me without warning:

the match has been thrown.