I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.

I do not knock at death's door,
I dance with him, closely interlaced
We glide across the river of souls
Throughout the night until it bleeds into day.
I do not spin free of his grasp
Nor do I fall from his hands to be laid in the ground.

I cannot fall from his hands for I am chained to life.
I am tasked to live on this earth to fulfill a purpose I am unaware of
One day I will find the reason I live, but not tonight
I dance with death, slowly gliding across the river of souls
I listen to his siren’s sweet songs, the promise of the ending of pain

Yet I hear the cries of the living
They beg me to stay to fulfill my purpose
They say I matter, and they say it will get better
They have faith that it will and offer me support

Their cries are powerful, they cry overpowering the sirens sweet melody
I am chained to living, but know the realness of death
I’ve grown close to death but am still called upon by the living
The chains of living had pulled me from my dance

And after many years of pain and guilt and sorrow I know my purpose
Here I warn others of the siren’s songs.
I warn of the empty promises of death and the deception of our dance.
For I have danced with death but am bound to life

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

The glittering lights
Of the City below
Shimmer in the
Sunrise glow
As I perch on
My rocky throne
To admire them.
Neon snails slowly
Inch their way along
The distant highway.
Flocks of starlings
Spray themselves
Across the rosy sky
And I am content.
           LJM

These bones were not carved out of ablution
Emptiness dominates over its seats
Has nothing to do with purification
And still despite spite, it’ll cling to release

Satiety thrives from eleven to five
Your recommended low is a bit out of reach
My mind physiologically cannot survive
Independent of a body that cannot stomach meat

This place is a cheap trick
Exposed at the root
Like a cavity, a pus ridden sore
It must be lanced, purged, cleaned
Cleaned of the false human impression:
That we matter

I want to take refuge in your smile
to bury myself in your eyes
to reside in your heart
to drown in your laugh
to hide in your arms
to lose myself in your beauty
and to clothe myself in your love

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you