Babble of tongues on the beach,

To my right Italian,
I can listen and the lilt admits me
invisibly into their world.


To my left Greek,
Incomprehensible, a barrier with occasional chinks
where I recognise clues.


Behind me English,
Different accents
Allocating places and prejudices.


You change your accent
as your clothes,
casual to be accepted.


For me you put on your finery.
But which is true?
Which is the real you?


I know your tongue
exploring my mouth
caressing my skin.

I cry over potential,
seen and unseen,
used, unused, and abused.
Ripped from the grasps,
wrapped in chains sunk with Osama,
Judas runs with his desires,
taking the lowly potential.
see what i mean?
there is no truth,
nothing honest, nothing pure.
I cry over potential.

He held radical light
to moon’s somber stare;
Night’s bright
diminished-

Taking backseat in a cab
heading polar;
Up north and downtown.
Somewhere dark.

He breathed cold brilliance in;
Addict’s winter;
snow filled air

Yielding melodies
to dense beats.
Music stopped;

Time raced…
Erased.

He spoke hard liquid
through wide eyes;
Tongue flailing,
Mouth jawing,
Body failing,

To wet ground.

He heard color flash;
Blue,
        Red,
Blue,
White,
            Red,
    Blue,­
                        White,
Red,
                        Whit­e.

           White.

White.

He felt silence enter.

White.

White.

Black.


He held radical light.

taboo dances in the rich ***** rain
it falls onto my shoulders staining my skin
why does the sky call to me in such disturbing ways

I crawled up your wooden ladder to find the sun
I held my heart above the clouds and my head to the gun
and when thunder is striking beneath you
there is not many places you can go
or many places where you can run

my soul churns
at the glance of yours

the sky continues to
.
.
.
pour

perhaps I am nothing but a torn poet
bleeding my thoughts on some wet footsteps
somewhere in Brooklyn
writing words of a love being loved too much
of a love that was never satisfied
a love that was never enough

perhaps I am nothing but a wondering soul
bed ridden on some broken mattress in Ireland
drenched from the mouth at dawn
overlooking an ancient castle and wondering
how many women cheated on their husbands in its rooms

nothing more than a person responsible for a slower beating of many hearts
responsible for the faster pace of others
something smaller than a thin anxiety running through
the blood of someone I left
or of another person who will never understand me
of another who will never come to terms with me
of another who tore me
of another who did not love me the way I had wished

lavender breaks its seal in some of my mornings
waking me up from the dead with flushed cheeks
and other times rising to the song of the death still stitched in my
empty pupils

perhaps I am just another person who broke too many times
who was sifted on the blackest ground until I lost my mind.heart.soul.
and became nothing but a bottle full of words

nothing but someone who lets the coldness break with the warmth of whiskey.
and the fire of a greater pain

bottomless.

I never end.

I never began.

I give
           a n d
                      I will keep on giving.

...

repetitive.

dry.

eternally cloudy skies.
with a chance of rain.

no more sunny days.

simply,

superficial.
reeking of worldly successes.

failing to fail at anything at all.

endless.

listen:

"young. promising. driven."

the truth:

empty. silent. a puppet. puppeteer?

...

drained.

But,

no one can stop me.
no one can save me.
no one can stop me.
no one can save me.

save me.

no one can save me.
no one can save.
no one can.
no one.

bottomless.

I give
           a n d
                     I will keep on giving.

after.

after?

wars.
disappointments.

even after this broken heart.

...

no one hires for the heart.
salary isn't determined by sincerity.

no one can stop me.
no one can save me.
no one can stop me.
no one can save me.

no one.

not.
even.
myself.

Darling, you were nothing
but the drug
that I’d been looking for.

I shot
your poison
through my bloodstream
and bled my love out through
my wrists.

when i looked up at you
and smiled
I didnt "Want a one nighter
(?)"

When you
woke up the next morning,
what made you stay?

What
made you think
that you could fix
a broken
thing like
me?