My skin is made of paper.
My bones are shards of glass.
My blood is shifting in my skin.
Staining the edges of once white youth.
Once unmarred slates.

Now I am a shamble.
My structure cracked.
My spirit broken.

My lungs are filled with dust.
My heart is pumping nothing.

If I have no will,
please let me be.

Don't make me stay.
Please don't make me.

I don't want this anymore.

We sit in silence.
Blue and gray shadows dance upon our walls.
******* TV.

We sit with our feet touching.
But we are miles apart.
How did we get here?
I always ask the same question.
How did we ******* get here?

We have had love.
We have had such good times.
Unimaginably good times.
Waves of laughter.
Kisses with no end.
Holding hands in parking lots.

Now I feel that you don't even want to touch me.
I feel that you have no reason to love me.
I don't understand.

I want your love.
I want your touch.
I want your skin upon mine.
I want to make up.
I want to make love.

These things, I fear, will never happen.

We fight.
We ****.

How much longer can one heart sustain this?
How much desolation can ones bones bear?

I hear the rain upon the rooftop.
I hear the trees cracking outside.
I hear my insanity screaming inside my head.
It's a deafening silence.

My skin is on fire.
Too tight.
My blood is hot and thick inside my veins.
It needs escape.

I need to see red.
I need a razor.

I'm drowning in a sea of my own blood.
Choking on my teeth.

Can I watch you float out to sea
and find the words inside of me
to deeply convey what I meant to be
find inside creativity
without succumbing to my destiny?

If your poison made my words more colourful
I would still hesitate to drink
watching you tread in stoic silence
towards a cold world that ends your heartbeat.

You toe and then slide foot into the shallow end
every time you open your eyes and breathe
your conscious breath
treading tepid water and ceaseless existence
once your poison takes it's hold.

Can I watch you float out to sea
and find the words inside of me
to deeply convey what I meant to be
find inside creativity
without succumbing to my destiny?

I've known you my whole life
pop can tops at 4am while others are sleeping.
Sometimes instead now there is sickness
hidden away in corners so no one hears.

Your chosen drink could transform my words.
I know it opens my soul
breaks it wide open with clumsy insistence
and gives no regard, no boundaries or restrictions.

Can I watch you float out to sea
and find the words inside of me
to deeply convey what I meant to be
find inside creativity
without succumbing to my destiny?

Isn't it weird how we see the image of stars that no longer exist when we look into the night sky? Sort of like looking into a mirror and seeing the reflection.

(meaning: wisdom that is incomprehensible to one of ordinary understanding or knowledge)

Alone, let me dissolve into the stale persistence of repeated memory, where,
to sink, into that moment, long at last, I will;
to time that stained my white and holy life like thick excreted waste,
as lost among the black apostles, self detest infection festered.
My soul did roast my psyche.

Let me watch through wiser eyes as I was suckled dry by rogues and devilled men who
fed me lies and praised degraded hopes in tight knit ******* ropes and
prayed their symbiotic futures whole;
their shackled lives, encased by squalid dwellings, ***** to empty, burnt to coals. Then,

let me fear again the death I cheated, let me shy away again from light and love,
as once I did,
and let the drugs inspire hunger, let my ribs admonish friendships;
show me seated on the sharpened iron throne that clawed its way into my life.

Let me remember courage, this, when biting clean the straps
that bent my arms behind my back,
that tied my feet without allowing slack, that stole my mind, that seared my life,
that scarred my flesh and sent me running, set me free at last
from final unforgiving seas that tempted me with futile guarantee
to nurture, care and carry me.

Let me, lastly, naked, stand in stark surrender, found by precious realisation.
Finally human once again! Majestic once again! While
chains of brutal, rusty, rotted steel detach,
and I begin to heal; to patch at last, my puzzled life that, muzzled,
once,
I hanged among
such sordid ruin.
Now a sequined future wheel rotates as I transition
from a past so art surreal,
so **** unreal,
and yet, a history, sad, but passed, that’s mine, alone to boldly feel.

Watched old and lonely walking this road
Naming the nameless ones from a chair
On three legs splinted up with bricks
I chipped the mortar out holding out
For footsteps in the dirt like the heel
Toe once heard, enduring over bounds
And now beating in the depths right
Next to death. Whispers softly at
Distance maybe only echoes from
The wind.

I hold out.
Fight fury in the doubt.
I hold out.
Binoculars looking.

Nursed and fed empty chests and stomachs
No less to give from my own abyss
Could crawl over nail bleeding for
The kin the world lost when it ended
Just to do my only due to give
Back what I know to show the wandering
You might survive in lack.
Oh I lack.

I hold out.
I hold out.
Binoculars up

I knew I had fallen out of love.
Yet I stayed;
I didn't want to be alone.

I am sorry it took me so long to realize
that if I was lonely when I was with you
then you must have felt isolated too.

And maybe I don't love you
like I used to
but I still love you enough
to spare you the desolation
of being alone in my company.