things were going too fast.
it was too easy to open my eyes
roll out of bed as to not wake him,
make breakfast and wait for him to
wake up to the smell.
it was terrifying.
i couldn't avoid the possibility
that things were going so fast that
the impending break up was approaching
even faster,
that when i hit the brick wall
at the end of the speedway,
my guts would splatter on impact
and he would escape unscathed.

There comes a time,
in the middle of your oppression,
when two men fucking
isn’t porn anymore, but
an empowering thing
like Betadine.

Have you ever been kicked
by a bully in the groin?
a kiss should feel like this,
but only from a boy

and it is certain, as certain as wisps of hope and grey smoky prayers can be

that although distance clambers before us, the moon as i see it is the same for you

the days and the nights and the schedules – to hell with them

for all i know we are breathing together, we are inhaling and exhaling as one

two bodies, as one in our mind’s eye

and i cannot help but to feel over every pore what it feels like when your hand flattens against my neck

it burns through my skin even as i sit here, eyes closed to a bright sphere which passed your vision hours earlier

i shudder as the sweet burn runs through me like honey straight from the jar

sugar travels fast and far, on the backs of trillions of ants like stars splayed across the earth

and the earth is just a canvas where we paint our struggles

though i hum at the bursting sparkles above many atmospheres

they do not keep an account of the way your tongue creeps past your lips and onto mine

only the earth knows the way our gaits come together and our bodies exist at the same level

stretched out between us, from one son’s antennae to another’s

the Queen entertains stories of those eyes that i miss, thick black crescents soft against my face

things immeasurable, things untold, things i do not own

you only share these with me but my access to the feelings they leave behind is limitless

the distances i would travel for you to remind me of what i already know, is something the moon understands

despite all else

it is heavy and slow but it always returns, waiting for the inevitable yet dynamic

if you tell me tomorrow what i want to hear today, i’ll get your message on time

just whisper it with those rosy lips of yours and my ears will open their arms to you

better yet, scream you love me into the quiet night sky and the sun will vibrate, causing the moon to chuckle

the ants will find me first

i sit here and i echo

i love you i love you i need you i’m with you i crave you every breath

until we breathe no longer i’ll say it and i’ll listen

we only speak it in breaths apart

i want those words, oh how i need to hear them in person

and i’ll swim oceans and levitate just to hear you again

tell me what i already know

i’m listening with my lungs

——-

What if I needed
For you to simply glance my way..?
Would it validate my existence?
Make the invisibility cloak start to
fray?

What if it was essential
To communicate your thoughts and
fears?
Would it make me less mechanical
And find a way to allow the tears?

What if it was vital
To not dash and dine behind closed
doors?
I wonder if that adjustment
Makes for serene and calming shores?

What if letting go of the toxic
Is an integral part of growth?
Does that lead to a sense of
secureness?
Not being afraid of the things
unknown?

What if touch was necessary?
A hug to make it all go away...
Would the craving for what was lost
Be an obscurity that was never in the
way?

What if ALL the "What If's"
Bring light to just one truth?
Would I welcome in the contentment
Had I been nurtured in feeling loved
by you..?

du hast Angst vor der Höhe
und ich vor der Tiefe;
und trotzdem treffen wir uns
in Herznähe.

It's the black and white memories,
the one's that we all try to hide,
but the more that's blocked, the more you see,
and you can't erase what's inside.

She tells her story, and it's heartbreaking,
while you say sorry you're both shaking,
you tell yourself this is real, but you're really feeling numb,
that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.

She tells her fears to quiet mirrors,
and expresses her sadness and stress.
Through all the tears she prays someone hears her,
because it's gotten to madness and she's become a mess.

In the booth you're all laughing, sharing the old jokes,
but the cigarette smoke is masking your instinct to choke.
You think you're made of steel, but you know you're just scum,
that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.

Every song you hear is nostalgic,
and it brings a smile to your face,
within the whispers is a hint of magic,
but the topics are lacking charm and grace.
And every soul that wanders in, is worse when they're outside,
for everyone is born of sin, but we sure all seem satisfied.

She tells you her story, and it's heartbreaking,
it all came before me and the choices I'm making.
You've lost track of how to deal, you say the issues are dumb,
and that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.

Your smiles are as bright as the sun in the middle of the day

Your laughters as beautiful as the soft sound of wind chimes dancing in the breeze

Your eyes as clear as the twinkling stars that laden the black night sky

Your cheeks as red as newly bloomed crimson roses

And I chase you

Your cries are as beautiful as the howling of lone wolves under the full moon night

Your groans as deep as the guttural growl of a wild animal in the forest

Your tears as salty as the crystal clear ocean water

Your pleas as beautiful as the music of an orchestra playing through the night

And I want to own you

Your soft breathes are as still as the calm waters of a mountain spring

Your pale skin as white as the thick snow after a storm

Your voice as faint as the flutter of a butterfly's wings

Your wounds and bruises as beautiful as an art painted on an empty canvass

And without meaning to

I killed you