I have bled and
I have learned

Dark knowledge,
poignant truth —
everything made of
flaw, and dead ends
have justified the
purity in a sin

Wilted gardens,
sleepless eyes

    *(you are all so beautiful to me)

there was a vase.
it was nothing special.
not very pretty
to look at.
it sat on a shelf
in a window.
it was behind
another vase, though.
the vase in front was
dustless and beautiful.
the vase in front had
flowers in it.

the ugly vase
sat for years
behind the lovely
vase.
the lovely vase had
everything and more.
elegant curves,
tasteful colors.
it was so beautiful
no one looked at
the curveless,
off white vase
behind it.

one day a child
ran through the
store.
the table by the window
was bumped
and the ugly vase
fell.
it shattered into
needle thin shards
and eventually swept
away.
the lovely vase
was bought that
day.

Death the copper penny, grief the rust.
Death the grain standing beside the road,
Death the rider, death the mare;
Grief the road.
Death the Greek invention. Thanatos.
Rather than that, those
stalks and seedpods brought to the mill
which, being destroyed
find purpose.

Grief the eater.

Pitter- Patter-
no more,
just shut up
can't take
nervey nerves
so dumb
no big deal
just feels
out of place
in my face
can't escape
shouldn't
would be a regret
until then
sweats and snips
no relief
not in usual pain killers or thrillers
just thinking far ahead
when everything will be
anxious for another reason.

The sun isn't shining,
But it will be.
The birds aren't singing,
But they will be.
The weather isn't sweet,
But it will be.
There's no dancing in the street,
But there will be.
The air is not filled with song,
But it will be.
I haven't fixed what I did wrong,
But it will be.

Even if it isn't
Who cares?

It's re-up day,
And when I open that zip lock bag, and inhale the fragrance of maddening bliss,
And pack up, spark the blue butane, and pull the essence inside me,
All the silly ******* will vanish, and I will smile, because Mary Jane always comes back to me.
And when she is with me
The sun shines,
The birds sing,
The weather is sweet,
there's dancing in the street,
The air is filled with song,
I've corrected all my wrongs,
And I smile like a man who is glad to die,
As I take that first hit, from my bubbling ****.