A kiss goodbye has many things in-between
Like when I call you back ten paces out for another
I always find a way to keep you there for another farewell
I will always have another goodbye in me for you
So much so you'll feel as if you never had to go

Sight: Her salmon pink skin on her sage green dress
Caught my eye every time

Touch: The way her warmth flowed to me
Made me feel fire once more

Scent: Her 5 dollar cotton candy perfume
Lifted me from my feet like a pie window side

Taste: The bitter lemon chicken we had cooked
Rested on her lips when I came back for seconds

Hearing: When she'd sing, my god her voice
Was better than every song I did and didn't hear

So much so, I had forgotten my sixth sense

A dream of horror
You butchered, by my hands
Put into bags next to the bed
I do not know why I did it
I don't even remember your face
But its blank palette lay lifeless in this bag
The guilt of such eating away at me
I awake and the bags remain
Saw you again after so long just to imprison you again
I woke up again
Head in hands and bug-eyed
I tear the room apart looking for these bags
Did I bury you?
Did I hide you from me?
No, you were alive
And the morose feeling of having slaughtered you faded
Maybe I had to **** you
I had to destroy you in the physical, mentally
To have you vanish mentally in the physical
I wish I knew why I still dream of you
And why my mind chose to **** you in such a grotesque way
But you are safe, away from me

What can you write about a woman that hasn't been said yet?

Do you tell her things she's heard in past lives or ones she's yet to hear in future lives

I do not worry about redundancy

Instead I will learn ways that cannot be replicated

Languages that have yet to convey such meaning

I will be the wake: the light, the dawn

the cosmic inclination to summon you

with the hope our stardust collides again

I don't even know who I write to anymore
do I hope you'll stumble across my work
that you'll tell yourself "just one more line" again and again
And when you reach the end you'll read again
until there's nothing left to find
and you'll sob and tears will distort the screen
you'll wipe them away and forget all about this

women views words like currency
where hurt is the apex of money
and the love and camaraderie
one a prisoner searches for in the cracks of his walls
is just a vehicle for the softening of the shell
one they've erected
after one too many 'you're my diamond"
when they're just feeling the pressure of one
well my words are gold, woman
and I tell you
you were born gilded
impervious to these poison laden speeches
where you were taught to hate your fellow girl
and to die for the man who kills you
they may speak all they want
but you will stand bold and ironclad with closed mouth
saving your last word for a rainy day

one time my dog brought me a squirrel he had half killed

and I stood staring at it quiver, half alive, with a baseball bat in my hand

dog barking and my ears shaking

and I couldn't bring myself to do it

I watched it die and laid its body adjacent to our creek

I will not be an angel of death