To feel this love.   to feel this love.   to feel this
           love.    to feel  this love.    to feel this love. to
       feel this love. to feel this love. to feel this
       love. to feel this love. to feel this love. to feel
       this love. to feel this love.  to feel   this
      love. to feel this love    to feel  this   love.
To feel this love. To feel this love. To
    feel this love. To feel this love.   To feel
       this  love. To feel this   love. To   feel this
           love.
                       to feel this love.   to feel this
        love.  to feel this love.    to feel this love.
to feel   this love   to feel  this love . to feel
    this love. to feel this love. to feel this love. to feel this love.
  tofeelthislove. tofeelthislove.  tofeelthislove.  tofeelthislove .
  ttttttoooooo ffffffeeeeeeeeeeeelllllltttttthhhhhhiiiiii
                      ­   ssssss lllllloooooovvvvvveeeeee .
        .                . . . . .
To feel this   love.
              As if you've never felt it before.

                      or

       As if you've entirely forgotten what it
                                                      felt like.

Pose for me. so that I can write a poem about you.
So that I can be inspired.
       So regal, so gaunt, you're going to be a star
            soon.
       With your death comes your decomposition comes
        your rebirth comes your relive comes your
redeath...comes the death of the Earth. Comes the sun, comes the stars,
-and every time I check back in, you avert your gaze, stoicism,
  god forbid I realize you're interested in anything outside your
own chaos theory about destroying the constitution of
   men by raising them right.
                               But you saw me write that in my mind
                     and now you've switched demeanors to
        the disapproving yet ultimately caring parental.

           It's funny that I rescued a parent
                        in you. (Tried to.)
                 While doing my best to provide (the best of dreams) for both of
                 us, I somehow hit a bump in the road
                 that beat me into awareness.
  Now that I'm awake, I can tell you, you're
            just like me: terrified, alone in your body,
            wrought with worry about the possibility of
             your mind never reaching mine.

Neither of us were well enough prepared for this
   to end so soon.
                   Trust me to share in your discomfort in
                   dying with no true heir.
                  But trust me also that I have become as
                   much you as any progeny could ever be.
                 And know that I do NOT trust you
                 to definitely leave me this time...you've
                  Cheated before.
Made me feel like we really were angels, if only for each
other.    You've crossed me for the last time though.
    Like a bridge, I collapse, and I rise.
               Like a breath I am labored, I fall for you,
                          to mark safe passage.  But I DO NOT WILL
NOT CAN NOT Burn away. You will always pass by way of my support.
You're small again. Like when we were young.
                               I feel like I could hold you in one hand.
  Sometimes it takes a lot to make us realize the magnitude
  of the things we are experiencing. It takes stakes
  for us to see that this is one moment we are sharing
  forever and never again. It takes pains to force us to
put these experiences down in writing, and it takes guts
to know. to know.  to Know.  that this love is worth
   having every ******* second that we breathe.
                           It takes a lot of guts, to know, when you won't be coming







Back.

                                      to a place you call Home.

Because that feeling you were holding onto
                                           went down deep in Earth.
    And up into space.
                             But somehow it's still in you
   when you sleep and dream and wake and eat and breathe and
           live                                and                     die
   and [Move]

                                                         ­                and (swim.)

     Where you belong                        is not a constant.
     Where I belong                              is not fixed down.
     Especially when
                                                what you are, my love
                                                            ­  changes     forms so
                                                              ­               frequently.

                                                    ­                 And you're moving along so fast.
                                                           ­          I couldn't hope to stop you now...

So self conscious about your every move.
Ne'er knowing
Which twitch
Might be
The last.

Here we are again.
Edge of the Portal.
You told me we'd never come back to this God
                                                             ­                    Forsaken
                                                                ­            Spot.

But I always thought
"I wonder what it took"
For the people to come up with that name for the land we forsook.

Right away, I'll ask you three things.
1- What did you learn?
2- What will you do different next time?
3- Do you really think you're coming back?

Like I promised to...

A promise is a promise,
but a great love can break almost anything.

Not that the promise got broken...it just wasn't exactly accurate.
It defied expectations of sheer elation and turned a DeathSeeker into a different kind of advocate.

Praise be to glory and the light! That's what I'd tell you if I was still high. Remember? Like that time? When I'd get so stuck in rhyme? That I couldn't define what the slant of the rant signed? YOU ARE SO RIGHT!

Be animal. Be animal all you want.
I'll still animate you from beyond the haunt.
But let's be honest, if it's death you're after...
I think...I may have just met my match.

Ok, you win. Congratulations, you reached the end.
You've quenched the worst thirst that my nightmares could portend.

There is an incredible difficulty, writing in great grief.
Postmortem depression.
Pre-partum relief.
You knew that your death would cause me to split, so you held onto it for way too long. But that death, just like anything else you love so dear, you must set it free eventually.

I'm just stating facts at this point, we're too close to the brink to tip or to cry, the shattering that is happening is slowly enrapturing the entire essence of a lifetime of imbuing something like a w o r d with a purpose.
with a purpose.
with a purpose.
with a purpose.

Scary. The thought.
The thought you turned so dark.
The dark I call the dark because it's
driven into me that
I should call the deathbed
dark.
The death I learned to fear,
to hate,
             to fight,
                         to ****
                         to push my life as far as it can go against the sea.
Procreating until the entire world is covered in me,
And we're all swimming in a surging ocean of my own mortality.

You. Have. Stopped. Me.
From being that reaching fool.
The man who has a different motto for every single situation.
I can never forgive you...for instilling in me: that peace.
That crazy, crazy peace that fights for cessation of perseverance.
The light inside the lighthouse at the end of the tunnel, hanging by a rope from the sky.
You are going to be ok.

You are making it ok.

You are making death something I need not seek.

Making it something that will come to me.

When I am ready.

And when you finally get on that boat.
And you're leaving.
Take one last glance.
At the boy...
Who you have watched grow into a man.
Who has run away a thousand times.
Always promising to come back.
...but sometimes not coming back as often as he promised to do.
Who in this moment has realized:
If you leave home in order to find your home,
Do you ever really leave?

The final night.
The last dawn.
Before your elements dissolve.
Into what I've always called mine.
But truly,
I was yours,
From the moment you saw me,
and decided for yourself,
to call this...
feeling
home.

I'll always come back?
No.




I'll never leave.

Dear Death,

Stop calling me.
I gave you multiple chances, and there's a time when we must realize that something is unhealthy for us, so that we can cut it out of our lives.
I am sorry.
Maybe under the right circumstances I could have loved you forever.
But those circumstances are not ours.
Rotten luck.

Have a nice lif- err, have a nice day.

Sincerely,
Your (Former) Love Interest




Sincerely...you have nothing left to say, don't say anything else don't say that there's nothing left to say even, don't even think about the creeping corners of memory storage in which there might be a few grains of substance at the bottom of a seemingly empty box. There is nothing left to say. And you know it. So don't.

Nothing never nover nether 'mother netting noting nothing.

******* lamps. Not a great hobby.


Shadow shanty.

Singing a song of the Sea.
Wringing the throngs of the clergy.
Stinging the Dongs of the ******
Clinging to poems of the clergymen.

Shadow shanty.

I tried to take a look in the direction of the sun. And what I got was a whole face full of God's good redemption. So I clambered on until I found the dirt, and I dug straight down into the earth until I hit rock. And I smashed my head on that rock until I could hear again. And I listened my way out of the hole that I dug when I decided to hold on for one more second when I didn't really feel like holding on. When I waited around to be changed instead of changing. And when I was holding on for just one more second because I felt if I didn't hold on I would just hang up. And my whole theme song is just elevator music, we're going up and up and up and the air pressure's decreasing the ringing in my ears can't wait for it to just POP and clear and let me out of here, cuz the hole that I dug was a million stories deep, and I've not even told a fraction of them yet.
Which is why I remain.

In the light, nothing can be wrong or right.
In the light, I can makeup for deafness with sight.
In the long light of the day I can withhold many words.
In the longest nights, I can free myself. Finally.

Shade Chant

It's comfortable here. Let me never leave.
It's comfortable here. Let me never leave.
It's mighty nice here. OH please, oh please.
Please never let me be free.

It's time to dig my final grave.
It's time to dig the final grave.
It's time to dig that final grave.
That final grave into the sky.

My soul I send, into the waves.
My soul I send, into the waves.
My soul I send, all into the waves.
Goodbye soul I don't need ya no more.

Shade Chant. A ***** spiritual. From the black, black heart. Of a white supremacist.




This week I will bury you.
I will never see you again.
You will never help me through.
Never push me past fear.
Never guide me to love myself again.
Never remind me of the innocence I never lost.
I will bury you this week.
And it won't be me.
I'll watch it happen from above in the trees.
As I bury my sense of self alongside.
I will bury you.
Since you dug me out of the grave.

hmmm

Good morning,    a stagnant air
  Warm like the blood in my brain from the night before
   Eyes crusted shut, to keep the air out
    Avoiding a lack of movement that embraces my room
     Deepening into dreamlike space
   The flicker of a cigarette glows open the shadows of hell
   Turning over and over inside me like a toddler in a
                                                                                 bathtub


    I *****. Most of it goes out my nose.

Good evening, I ------------can open my eyes now
                to block out the light.
                          The faint glow of a cigarette warms
                                 the frigid air.
        My skin stands up, reaches out to the fire
                       Clinging to the warmth of the blood
                               from my mouth.
  He is there standing over me, smoking and I
                     cannot see his face.
           He devours my genitals whole and I want to move
           He ***** out my ear bones and I want to protest.
           He strips the hair out of my skin and I want to struggle
                           I won't move. I cannot see his face.
                                                   I can still hear him coming

Good night. I open my mouth and **** in the cold warm
  air.          Drinking the moisture they left last night
                                                  into my lungs.
    It mixes with smoke as I **** in a drag.
Exhale the room into your vulnerable face.
            Your skin in the bathtub, warm and moist still.
               Your mouth and your eyes closed.
                                -----------------------------
                      never to taste me
                                never to see my shadow
                                        stagnant forever more.
                                     I *****, most of it into