i’m not afraid of blood and guts
but am of the notion of separation
perspicacity’s domain is under my shoe
where adoration once lived
but it was late on the rent.

the doubts recede back into the ontology they sprang from
a paradox not unlike verbiage and emotion
tied together with razor wire and feathers.

i’m playing a hand of poker
where the cards are made of shame, disgust and jealousy.
the king’s looking at the queen with disdain
and furrowed eyebrows
he plans on uxoricide in her sleep.
it’s her fault for not saying “good night"
when i drew a pair of aces.
the jack and the joker are plotting raiding the medicine cabinet tonight.

but chemicals have failed us.
everything has.

we only find solace in the prayers of children
and the rain.

comforts that we once cherished
now have sharp teeth
and will lacerate you
before the sun sets.

a sick kind of lycanthropy
turns ex-lovers’ blood
into gasoline.
but we still sat on the porch and drank it
as solar flares bounced off our hips
and turned altruists into hypocrites
sweet, honest mistresses into liars
and vegetarians into fire eaters.

not much of a difference, you say?
well, the jacks have turned on one another.
it’s a battle of epic proportions
and the queen woke up just in time to slay the king.

the kingdom is in chaos.
while we weren’t looking
the peddlers turned into cannibals
and the priests now feast on peace
and tranquility.

a young, beautiful maiden
asked me to dance in the street
but i said it was too loud.

our imaginary children have been forsaken
by forgotten gods
and the beautiful music we were going to dance to
is just static.

was it always this way?
maybe we were just blinded by wanton hopes and long abandoned desires.

or maybe the king really killed the queen.

it’s darker now
and the sheep have turned in.
so have the cats and dogs and birds and plants.

but i’m still playing poker
and the static fills my head
bereft of any plans of retreat.

pride is not without a mighty downfall
nor is confidence without cracks in the tinted glass.

we all fall down.
some just more than others.

but you can only dig your hole 6 feet until the dirt comes back on top
and sometimes you can never clean it from under your nails.
and it is sentient.
it patiently collects there for days, months, even years
until it decides to strike
enveloping and suffocating
in a whirlwind of pent up rage and violence.

the children are gone
the laughter is gone
and the joy too.
the birds are without song
and the trees are without leaves
and love does not stay.

she has given up the fight.

i walk to the window.
it’s pitch black
because there is no moon.
it has deserted me along with all my
friends, lovers, acquaintances and guardian angel.
i think they’re all at a bar
making jokes and laughing at my expense.

it’s absolute zero outside.
i’m insulated by bitterness, sarcasm and apathy.
the girls stay warm
in facades
of trust, loyalty and love.

i sit back down
to play another hand
but something happens.

the kings, queens and jacks
are whispering and conspiring
shifty eyes, toothy grins
and all.

as i flip through them,
they begin making small paper cuts on my fingertips.
it doesn’t bother me
at first
but before i know it
they are moving up my arms.
not pain, just stinging.

then i’m in a state of complete paralysis.
i can’t brush them off or run outside.
i’m laying on my back
on the floor.
every time i muster a laugh
they go deeper.

they’re at my shoulders now
working their way down
at a 45 degree angle.

i know where they’re headed.

i forgot my heart is by my knees
but they can smell it

they keep working down my body
and each cut hurts more.
by the time they get to my thighs
it’s excruciating.

i mentally scream
for a God
who isn’t there
but i have a plan.

two more seconds
and i will will my heart
to stop beating
my lungs to stop pumping.

i begin to fade out
and my last vision
is one of them
maniacally frenzied
and beating at each other
in the air.

then

just blackness.

the abyss is looking back at me
and it doesn’t like what it sees.

i have saved my perfect mistake for last.

we were driving home
taking side roads in a roundabout way.

and you spotted something on the side of the road.
bloodied, broken and (i assumed to be) dead.

you pulled over and we inspected it.
i was rather disgusted, but you picked it up and coddled it 'cause it had fur.

you kept coo'ing at it and asked it what it's name was (expecting no answer)
but it struggled to utter "Love".

we begrudgingly decided to take it home
and made a bed for it and nourished it back to health.

a week later we were drinking Earl Grey by the fireplace,
heard a rumbling
and looked around to see it standing there looking at us.
it was 7' tall and had an expression of awe, wonder, and terror
as if it thought we would ****** it at any second.

each night it had a different face, resembling one of your former playthings.
you never called it the same name twice.

a week later, it couldn't fit through any of the doorways.
we always came home to plaster, paint and drywall scattered everywhere.

i complained.
"Love has broad shoulders", you quipped.
it had grown too much for us.

a week later, i spent the afternoon at the bar and you were shopping.
we rendezvoused back home at 3PM.

only to find a gaping hole where the front door used to be.
everything inside totaled.
precious collections, expensive technology, jewelry...
all gone (or destroyed beyond recognition).

i railed, "Love ruined EVERYTHING!!!"
you seemed to take no note, kept your composure and muttered, "It always does" and just began sweeping.

the next day we got a kitten from the animal shelter,
and were laying in bed with it at night.
i asked, "Do you think Love will ever come back?"

you answered coldly, "It never does".

i wanted validation
you wanted attention

i think i won that round

but when your pride was in danger
watch out...

well, you won, for whatever reason
are you happy?
do you sleep better?

you won.

but it's empty.

you won for affirmation.
i lost for vengeance.

who won?

and who lost?

the girls want reason.

the boys want prizes.

when do we take inventory?

the blood, or the time, or the hope?

the only winners here are the ones that annulled their pride.

and i'm at the back of the class....... again.

scouting another victim.

or is she scouting me?

when we play to lose,
the "winner" never wins.

there's a masterpiece of checks and balances

but i fail to see

if you won,
or if i lost.

I'm doing time inside of my own mind
Without the possibility of Parole.
Visitors prohibited,
Human contact limited;
And my soul is locked in the hole.

in all the condolences,
i find self-righteousness and laughter.
the laughter screams not of mockery, but sheer jubilation.

there are 12 cars, like 12 horsemen.

what will we do about this?

the sanctity of devotion has eroded
into stubs.

i will stay behind
tallying the wrongs

for what?

a grateful notion won't bring me back.
a moral lesson won't be learned.

we have bequeathed terror since our births

and there's no way out

never a way out.

the restless words you left
and the disembodied lives.

they strain to find sunlight.
and jointed alibis.

everyone keeps searching for your excuse,
but without finding, they fall.

in comforting arbitration
and juxtaposing facts.

for instance, you'd said you'd always be there,
but you were never there at all.

before we dive into sulphur
before we slash our wrists

let's pretend we gave a ****
let's pretend we gave a ****

'cause we're heading toward failure
we bequeathed our children

and snake pits
we left our fathers

but just one last time, for old time's sake
let's embrace
and forget we were ever here.

note to james from ex friends & lovers:

we forsake you.

you have let us down
time & time again
remember that time you said you'd grow up?

we're as loyal to you as you are to us
how's it feel?

to be burned
and tread upon

tied to the cross
and all the reckless abandon

we raised our glasses
and crossed our horns

void of hope
and at the end of your rope

shed the dead skin
and the old soul
you can't reinvent yourself
and all the wasted adrenalin

we don't mind the bad feelings
or the negative thoughts
as long as you remember
that mountains can't be moved
or you can't battue dreams

ah, the dreams
forlorn love
and missed opportunities
battered to something meaningless

as dismal as the terrain you've explored
we've left it like we found it

a landscape less ignored

i thought the gods would spare me
for a second.

but no.

my salvation won't be lollipops and rainbows.

it will be breaking of oaths
harsh silence
and torrential sacrifices.

instead of being forgiven,
i will still have to redeem myself.

it will be perfect diamonds
and black lung coal.

it will be all the things i've wanted

and everything i wish to avoid.

i will rise as fast as i fall,
but someone will be there to catch me this time.

it's just unknown yet if it will be angel
or demon.

i don't mean to encumber you.

or devalue, diminish, degrade, debase, reduce, demean, humble, lower, cheapen, burden, saddle, inconvenience, ******, hinder, cramp, denigrate, belittle, deride, depreciate you, or shoot you full of holes.

it's genuinely not my intent.

i just really need you to go down with me

in flames

right now.

i see her.
she looks splendid.
i always loved denim on her.

then i see myself.
misshapen, cracked at all the right places.

who did this to me?

then i see her
and i want to reach out
but she doesn't need to be saved anymore.

i already did my time.

me - scraggly, unshaven, sober
and looking for someone to ****

someone used to temper me.
this i know.

when the whirlwind comes to me,
it will proceed.

'cause it sees i have nothing to lose.

insipid as last time,
your actions speak for themselves.

drive-by sentiments
and empty endeavors.

trees lean over,
but words fall.
striking the head like a fierce, blunt object.

only this time your crime was unseen
'cause i didn't even exist where there were any observers.

it's lke burning,
then having liquid nitrogen poured onto what is left for the cure.

sure, it feels good for a moment (future absolvement), but.......

it's like freezing a leaf,
pulling all its veins out,
then throwing it in the river.

it's like being insanguinated
of all your work, loyalty and finally, blood.

but it is to never, NEVER be returned with revenge-infidelity.

now that would just be wrong, huh?

cuz a lover who's already tempted by betrayal doesn't get the memo.

so we start this vicious cycle
until it plays out.

or until one of us dies.

whichever happens first.

the cage has its qualities.

there is air.
they bring me water.

but the key is buried under a pile
of madness, regrets, and disillusion.

and in that heap,
no love is found.

after you **** it away too many times,
it retreats away,
and you're never to find it again.

the cage has a poor-quality plastic lock.
and i think i can break it with screams.

but it just screams back.

when i close my eyes,
all i hear is laughter.

everyone is elated
for the hedonist's deserved fate.

and i drink to them,

for my failure goes hand in hand with theirs.

she said i'm a monster
but i'm pretty sure i'm nothing.

another one said she'd always be there for me,
but hasn't spoken to me since.

there's this one i talked out of killing herself
the night she lost her virginity...

she wants me dead.

there's one that begged me to take her
but we had drank too much.

i carried her to bed instead
and we slept it off.

there's the one who killed herself
because she thought i rejected her...

i think she got the better end of the deal.

my first love left me for a guy who had a bike
while i only had a skateboard.

karma doesn't exist.

if it did,
this whole world would be up in flames.

we were through everything together
road trips
infidelity
children

at first it seemed like the most well-laid plan
but eventually it began to disintegrate

at first you seemed unattainable
then un-detachable

we both moved on
but i only moved on physically

at one point we stopped speaking to each other
what went wrong?
there were so many factors

remember when you said:
"get it out of your system"?

i'm not sure i still have
when i'm at my lowest, i still toy with emotions
my favorite game is emotional blackjack

what happened to us?
is like the headlights on the dark roads we traveled
we were always headed to a possible void

i keep trinkets and keepsakes
i don't know why
they all keep me bound to the past

chained to times i do/do not wish to remember

at one time, i asked:
"you don't have any doubts, do you?"
you said "no"
but that was the beginning of our downfall

entrenched in memories and visuals
chained to obligatory well wishes

we don't kiss
or even shake hands

what happened?

time is all i've ever really owned.
and time has come and gone.

there were girls.
there were nights.
there were connections.

but everything is tenuous.
as feelings, dedication and chemicals.

someone kissed me in my sleep.
and i slept when they kissed another.

i have held on until my hands melted.
never a consolation prize,
only a consolation price.

sacrifice is not worth pride.
money is not worth pride.
flesh is not worth pride.

all i've found that's worth pride,
is time.

and time has come and gone.

regard me in a high level of terror
as the hedonist who pulled down the shades
when the enemy stopped to shave,
enthralled by the way the beautiful girl turned
through darkness and water and sand;

regard me as the one who laughed
when the spider caught fire in the radio
and the owl retreated
grabbing mice and bulls and ornaments;

regard me as the one who drank
cigarette butts and played Solitaire with God
as the poison violins floated in the air;

regard me as the one
who made all the astute observations
no one else would
(or were too afraid to);

regard me as the one
who loved as fiercely as he fought.
who paid so much attention
it killed me;

regard me, even as dead, more alive than
many of the living.
and regard me, as i fumble with words,
regard me as nothing.
so we may have peace

and forget i ever happened.

"i think you want to leave."
"i want to stay."

"leave."

a female's logic is like no other -
it's like dividing 0 by purple.

but i felt something,
and it all came together.

"i don't want to die alone."
"neither do i, but i have to go."

my logic is frustrating at best -
like dividing 0 by sheet metal.

and every agreement i ever made
imploded on itself.

the villain hath no limit
when the victim has pride.

or the other way around...

i will dance on eggshells,
waiting for redemption.

but she'll rise from the earth,
and drag me to Hell first.

and i'll finally find a place to call home.

because i'm adaptable.

i'm told there's such a thing as love.

but i think it's a vacuum,
of space and time.

i walk all year on embers,
only finding ashes.

and i'm told it's some great prize.
but my vitality seemed a greater victory.

while we're doing the body count,
can we amass the ones who had potential?

the ones who got away, shouldn't have.
and vice versa.

i'll drink to my redemption tonight.
because i never had a chance.

i didn't accept her
cuz the age difference might have driven my girlfriend insane.

i didn't accept her
cuz her beauty might have driven my girlfriend insane.

i didn't accept her
cuz her intelligence might have driven my girlfriend insane.

i didn't accept her
cuz her social status might have driven my girlfriend insane.

that girlfriend hasn't spoken to me in a decade.

lesson learned.

the heart breaks
when it realizes separation is permanent.

first, to the stomach
then to the knees
to the toes
and finally into the ground.

i remember saying "leave me alone"
but i don't recall it being so static.

the permanence of it is what kills me.

i didn't mean what i said
or thought
or listened to.

but i realize i did.

and the fact that i realize
has me swimming
in petroleum jelly.

that will never heal wounds.

only hinder.

forever.

how is your hearing?
how is your memory?

the lines cross
and what's left is a glorious blur of revisionism.

the woman ate the girl
and now she's hungrier.

time's expanse does not exclude you
or include me.

the harbinger was attraction.
we should have seen this coming.

but you won.
but you're miserable.
so i guess i won.

but at what cost?

the fragments are still flying.

neither of us see in color or in black and white.

we just weigh measurements
and hope one got more than the other.

a tug of war between the blind and the deaf.

and as long as shots don't ring out
the least damaged will go home.

we almost brought it alive.

a flower, an icicle, a child?

what will be, will be.
it matters not what is deserved.

we brought the microcosm down
with thundering applause.

and in thinking of everyone else's salvation,
we never considered our own.

the mirror looks back once,
looks back twice,
then forgets you were ever there.

in the bouquet of roses was a daffodil.
it was the one that cut you,
and i regretted the purchase.

of all the boys you procured,
it was me that cut you.
and i regret the purchase.

i failed.

i left when she asked me to stay.
i stayed when she asked me to leave.

shot up when i knew better.
drank when i knew she would get mad.

worked too many jobs.
loved too much.

didn't teach.
didn't listen.

i failed at understanding the signals
when devotion got in the way.

when hedonism calls
don't answer.

it's never good news.

i could've made it work.
we could've made it work.

it's just that the logistics were irreprehensible.

i missed a call.
you made me late.

we were having too much fun.
i was having too much fun.

i don't know what you were having.

it surely wasn't in my future.
in any sense.

i failed at taking the right job.
the wrong job.

any job.

you were my biggest job.

i never meant to hurt you.

only to play.

and that came at a great cost.

more than all of the shiny things i would've bought you.

and now you have your prize,
and i have my cross.

are we even?

i have no need for change.
it's meaningless to me (in most senses).

so i plop $6.24 (exact change) on the counter.
he throws pillows filled with guilt at me.
and i hurriedly leave as he's shouting threads of vitriol that could trap me there forever, with my bags of guilt (what else do i have?)

commuting home is easier now.
we stand on the backs of alligators.

brave men fit them for harnesses.

but it's all good here.
until a beautiful women steps out of her house.

nothing good can come from it.

my alligator lets me off at my house.

i only have to blow on the front door at a certain angle,
my shelter has been charred so many times;
touching it might make it collapse.

my house is the only one with no electricity or running water;
noone knows why.

but i've learned to improvise.

a man on the street once told me, "it's better to be adaptable than to have no need to adapt."

i asked him "why?" but he was gone.

i unload my haul of guilt next to my collection of desires; seems fitting.

no.
i'll have them pad the totem of regrets; it's much more delicate.
and maybe if i make them more comfortable, they'll stop haranguing me every night.

every evening the floor gives out, and worse, nothing to hold onto.
but while i'm falling, a fish hook  always finds it's way to my chest and sinks into my heart.
and i just dangle there for an hour or more ("where do i keep these things?").

the floor comes back (as it always does), frozen solid.
i don't know where it goes but it is not to the core of the Earth.

as per ritual, i'll give it painful fit of body heat;
i know where i'm sleeping tonight.

i don't get any visitors,
but if i did, i'd like them to be comfortable.

between the grey and dull days,
they were silver.

sparkling like all the things i said i'd get you.

but refunded.
always refunded.

the stores and i had a misunderstanding...

"but she CHEATED ON ME!"
"i'm sorry, sir. no refund."

and so i got protective of my expenditures,
material or not.
but i spent more time, emotion and trust in you...

but it was all for naught.

no matter what i bought.
it wouldn't bring you to visit me now.

you're done.

the weather's gray.
so gray.

and now it comes.

the moment you should've known but were "too busy"

now it's here.

we burn.
and you cry.

but we've already been locked in our fate.

just go to sleep.

go to sleep.

she started it.

tokens of affection and promises of lifelong loyalty.

soon i started buying her things and it was already over.

the tennis bracelet will survive longer than either of us.

she killed me on a calm night
where i had forgotten any misgivings long ago.

now she has her pride intact again.

a double-win since i always think of her still.

one time we walked down the promenade,
a slight sea haze...

and i asked her if she was having any doubts.

and she assured me, "no".

but that was not to be.
lovers crawled out of the woodwork and harangued me every night.

the arguments i shouted back never held.
until finally i understood her logic.

i scared that beautiful, little, fragile thing.

and taught it "make the punishment 10 times worse than the crime".

i shouldn't have.
or i'd be alive right now.

if all these intricacies are to be lost
then let someone celebrate

it won't be me

i have given everything  for a lack of return on investment

someone used to watch me sleep

but i slept too much

and now.....

the gold, time and investment...
all for naught

when the time comes,
we'll see how things even out

but for now,
just static and white noise.

it was January 1st,
it was August 1st.

the coldest of days,
and the hottest.

I put my life on hold,
so you could have little trinkets of victory,
and failed to collect any of my own.

I took a 5 month respite.
you couldn't even be there when I woke up.

you got your trophy.

congratulations.

the plan will fall inwards.

i still get my way every day.
you just don't see it,
but you will.

without noise, i'd have nothing to block out the regrets.
without noise, i'd have nothing to block out the failures.

we sleep in each others' arms.
enjoying the cacophonous solitude.
i'd have no answers, nor questions.

i'd be at peace.

but i'd miss my friend who balanced me.

i'm not empty.
i tell myself i'm not a void.

as soon as you left,
i let my guard down.

it's your fault you missed it.

as i'm analyzing the blood-splatter,
i see traces of your other victims' faces.

the crime i'm paying for is not my own.

if something made me,
it must have seen this coming.

i feel sorry for her,
the one that hasn't arrived yet.

i withdrew before she was even an idea.
if i didn't, i'd make a mess of things.

apathy, too, my friends
is a form of self-defense.

it will either be  blaring trumpets and angels
or silence.

it will either be acceptance
or denial.

it will either be glorification
or damnation.

i will either be lost
or found.

1 of 2 things will happen.

and i'm not sure about either one anymore

had i made th other choice
would you have wrestled with me
the demons of Hell?

would i be here right now?

where are you?
safely in the arms of another?

did i make the wrong choice?

did you cry at all?
am i here?

are either of us wondering?

did you wonder for a split second
why this might happen?

am i doomed to wander endlessly?

but i'm prepared.

better than to see you fall too.

i touched something....
it was bethnal green and i thought it was a mermaid

it bit me!

so i went back to normal girls.

but they bite harder.

at first it's fun; things are removed.........
then you realize there's nothing left

you can't move. or speak.

you're just 2 eyeballs - watching the party go on.
must it?

with lies i'd prefer to believe
than the reality

with snow i swept
rather than the dust i kicked

with another layer of skin
i have no need for this

with the promises kept
rather than the betrayals

with ***** that only touched casks
rather than the wine that touched lips

in water (it's honest)
rather than earth (it lies)

with a thousand soft whispers
not the empty threats

with the love i once felt
rather than the violence i know

and etch on the tombstone
"it's about ******* time!"

where are we going?
where have we been?

does one cancel out the other?

are our 2 missions diametrically opposed?

it doesn't seem so.

we just both wanted attention.

just in different ways.

I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly to prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned.
Since from myself another self I turned.

My care is like my shadow in the sun,
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die, and so forget what love e’er meant.

- Queen Elizabeth I

i should have freed myself from your shackles
long before i did.

but they still follow me.
in every step,
every shadow.

before i melt myself down,
know this...

history will repeat,
and it only gets uglier.

Puget Sound,
shall we break free down from the sea?

Puget Sound,
Shall we break what was once was me?

Puget Sound,
shall we silence the wind?

Puget Sound,
shall we end all that is to be?

Puget Sound,
swallow me now or swallow me whole

The question is,
Will I begin or will I cease?

there were times
detached coherence
and unforgiving circumstances................

somewhere between the weeping wall and our bedroom door

there lied a cry
for validation
for sleep
for PEACE

but that was not to happen
it wasn't "in the cards" you said.

within these saturated walls,
a grace will come.
as pure as lightning.
and the fire it stole.
but not for you.
and definitely not for me.

there was a light in her.

distant, but ******* BRIGHT.

so i followed it.
it was like a rainbow - the further i traveled, the farther it got.

but i was determined.
and so was she.

when i finally reached its end,
i was met by a man who claimed to be her current paramour.

i sought answers,
he exclaimed, "STRING HIM UP!!!"

4 others came out of the bushes
and grabbed my limbs,
but i fought hard.

i fought SO ******* hard!...

but they got the best of me,
empowered by her smiles from the balcony.

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS??", i pleaded.

but i knew the answer.

i snored,
or looked at someone.

it was all in such a haze...

they carried out a case of empty wine bottles.

and smashed them.

threw the shards at my eyes,
and mouth.

then they started stringing me up.

the cross was made out of ex-lovers.

and every nail that went in,
as much as it pained me,
killed one of them.

he woke up with his body burnt,
gasoline still pouring over his face.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!", he
asked to someone, anyone that would answer.

noone did.

he spent the next years trying to remember
any ties he had.
either to a material or emotional world.

they never came.

it could only be deduced that he was forgotten.
forsaken.

and left to live out his life in a meat-pie construct.

remember when they said they wanted to "**** your mind"?

that doesn't matter anymore either.

"without a physical capability, you're no use to us".
(WORK! FIGHT! DANCE! DO SOMETHING!)

these thoughts.... shiver.
until he understands the gravity of them.

one amounts to the exact amount of product he gives.

and once a man can't assemble.........

the rules of war are not unlike those of love -
make the punishment 10 times worse than the crime.

i waited outside the store
and wasn't sure if i should fall into the concrete
or fly away

would either have mattered?

take the hollow days
and take the joyous days

and crush them into one, please.

or crush them into oblivion.
i don't care.

just crush.

crush until the poems bleed into letters
and the feelings bleed into songs.

for i am lost.
and you are crushed.

we cannot have both.

the world will spin backwards
its axis reminding us of who we were.

the stars will jump down
in my face
to punish me for not fulfilling what i could have been.

we are lack of return-on-investments.

we are nothing
anymore
at last.

you hope i die.
i hope i die.

but God won't appease either of us.

my continuing disappointment is a gift
you can never return.

what you thought i could be
is a gift you'll never receive.

let us both pour more wine
for the lie that will always endure.

each in its own place.

we divide the constants by zero.

we were never good at math
but the revenge-cycle took it's toll.

1... 2... 3...
who is better?
you or me?

prove it by likeability.

the one who wants attention more wins.

but who wins The Game in the big picture?

i did everything right

and i will continue to do so
no matter how much it damns me.

it must mean something
somewhere.