You spoke me into raindrops, daisies, and fear.
You whispered the universe into my bloodstream,
Marked my body with stardust.
And when storm clouds could not
pull the tides,
but
instead
created waves of indecision,
And an earthquake in my chest,
You called a tsunami a shower
when I couldn’t swim.

When the world goes dark,
As night turns to day,
I remember that even the moon forgets its purpose,
without the sun to light its way.
You loved my flowers,
But didn’t expect the weeds.
As though the stars shine bright only for your whim and need.

If only
God was so kind.

Branches with apples
Falling further
Than you could reach;
You planted apples
But
Expected oranges.
You plucked me from my own
home and left only weeds.
You loved roses but didn’t want the thorns.
And when a tree falls
but no one cares enough to listen,
I remember
that I am not a tree
planted by your disposition
and watered by your compliments.

You cannot rush a bud
to bloom
and you cannot make
a baby bird spread its wings.
You cannot will
the universe to do your bidding
and I cannot force you
to look into my eyes
and see the galaxies.

If only
God was so kind.

I choke on the decomposition,
the rotten, vegetal smell of her
home.

I’m in there every three months.

She, with her withered legs and
her *******, bewildered smile,
tells me that everything’s groovy.

But, I know better.

It ain’t.

She ****** herself on the regular.

She tells me that her man is all
sorts of lovey-dovey.

He ain’t.

He’s a *******
in sheep’s clothing.

There’s nothing to report though.

If she won’t say it,
neither can I.

I walk out the door,
that the caregiver holds open.

Ol’ Loverboy has his dentures
in his hand, wiping them down.

The desire to put them back in his
mouth for him is huge.

I imagine him choking,
like I am.

Not on that rotten, dead plant stench,
but on a fistful of incisors.

*

- JBClaywell
© P&ZPublications; 2017

We need to stop analyzing the past,
stop planning the future,
stop figuring out precisely how we feel,
stop deciding exactly what we want when we want it.
Sometimes, we just need to stop,
and see what happens.
You see, what we learn, and who we become,
in the process of waiting,
is often more important than the thing we were actually waiting for.

Break me down to battered bones
Then stake me through my shattered heart
No wounds you could inflict are worse
Than ways I've torn myself apart

From sleeping with my restless guilt
Awoken by regret
To wasting memories away
Whilst drinking to forget

Then fragmenting my sanity
To diamond shards of pain
So come and take a stab at it
I've tried before in vain

Eviscerate my rotten guts
I've spilt them more profuse  
Asphyxiate my toxic breath
I'd help you tie the noose

Bury me alive with not
But shame and solitude
Spit upon my unmarked grave
I would not deem it rude

For in this dying world I bore
The weight of all enslaved
Yet wore Grim's cloak of darkness as
I reaped the ones I craved

No angels reached my Heaven's heights
No demons breached my Hell
Both gates remained forever locked
Inside my mortal shell

Imprisoned in Pandora's box
No deities designed
No creator gods explained
The chaos of my mind

Just made me to discover how
To understate depression
With all the words I write to you
As overkill confession

You wore your top hat with authority
And glimmered like her priority
My madness slipped away in a dream
Similar to the hare's self esteem
You could make anything with that voice
The elegance was no longer my choice
As crowds near
Proposing nothing if not fear
You held out the rose for her
My flooded lungs became a blur
I'd carry the rabbit
Rid the torturous habit
Yet you chose to stay comfy in her web
I don't doubt how frail I'll be this Feb
The thorns could be seen from quite great length
I knew I was torn from malice and lacked the strength
Though your charm proved to cause such a fright
I wouldn't avoid your deathly bite
You'd despise me had you knew
Yet that only sprinkled my eyes a pretty black and blue
True, the cards may have fell in her favor
I just hope I don't make you regret that white rose you gave her

I don't remember what it was to be the old version of myself
And I count that as a victory
The first death I am responsible for
Quite possibly the last

It's a lot like living somewhere as a baby
And moving at an age too young to remember what the color the walls were in your old room
But you have pictures
You know you lived in a bright orange room
But you can't feel it
You can't go back to living in that room as a child because you are not a child and that is not your room
You are someone new
And the room is somewhere new
That is what it is to **** the old version of yourself

I don't know if I will **** again
I suppose none but killers know if they will **** again
I will **** only in defense of self
Self-defense will hold up in this court of law
My law
My court
My self
Judge, jury, killer, killed

I've never been one for goodbyes
I suspect I never will be
There is no need to say goodbye to something that is already gone
He was already gone, that old self
He received no 21 gun salute
He was no hero
This new self could receive such a salute
But I hope he doesn't need one
I'm fond of this new self
I don't want to have to **** him
I don't think I'll have to

But don't think I won't
Don't think I can't
Because I've done it before and I'll do it again
If I have to

You've taken me  to an older place,
that dwells inside my own heart,
A  place that I've  forgotten about,
A place where the doors were closed
but you have found the keys,
and you've opened the gates,
and dragged me in,to this place,
Where I no longer know how to live in
So,I will try to adapt
Just for you,
This time.....

It's excruciatingly hard to tell
If I smile less now because
I'm always focused on trying to
Understand this new language,
Your language,
And this is my concentration face,
The face you used to love,
Or if I smile less now
Because learning this language
Your language,
Reminds me constantly
That I no longer have you.