Anchored at the berth
For centuries
attempting
to gracefully
Slip the mooring
A distant yesterday's whisper
Evanesced
now steadfast
As if bewitched by the galaxy
Unaware of the
contiguous
Land and liberation
Tauntingly so
rooted
Refusing to be liberated
Time and time
Unnoticed
invictus
again it slips from moon to sun
And time has stood still for so long
It has become
Interchangeable

This pencil
This paper
Looks just like coke and razors

I write so much I can't feel your kiss
I'm not attached to humanity
Except through this bleeding heart
That I'm slowly whittling away
It's taking shape of something so ******* beautiful

But you always say I'm killing myself
That I'm in denial
Crocodile tears and a plastic smile
For a while you fool yourself into thinking you're right
For a while you fall for your own *******

This apathy
These scars
Tattoos of times I've been torn apart

I ache for human touch
But every nerve has been severed
I close myself inside
Your ****** up mind
And watch your memories in silence
What we made is so decayed and rotten
We denied life to what we'd forgotten
I can't look at my reflection without slitting its throat
I remember what you told me and I quote:

But you always say I'm killing myself
That I'm in denial
Crocodile tears and a plastic smile
For a while you fool yourself into thinking you're right
For a while you fall for your own *******

This love
Those emotions
Can't find which hole in my heart they go in

I balance my life on the edge of a blade,
I get cut and nicked
No matter which turn I take
I'm teetering, watching myself bleed
It leads me to believe that smile was always fake
There was no right time to deny the lies I regretted
Self destruction was the first defense I hated
As I see all these lines blurred in my head
Thinking back to what you said...

But you always say I'm killing myself
That I'm in denial
Crocodile tears and a plastic smile
For a while you fool yourself into thinking you're right
For a while you fall for your own *******

I dissected a heart today,

and it wasn't for science.

I shattered your being

and bathed in your silence.

Your innocent is what

became your downfall,

because you believed

innocence lied within all.

You found joy in the

love of twos,

but my joy came in

destroying you.

You find joy in love

and all its parts,

I find joy in bleeding hearts.

You and I were a natural disaster.
How we acted came naturally,
Though as natural as a volcano.
There is beauty in destruction.
And darling, we blew up.
We crumbled, we burned,
And we took others down with us.

The aftermath still isn't pretty,
But life is rebuilding around us.
It's avoiding the rough spots,
Still cooling off.
It's hard.
It's rocky.
It'll all come together soon, though.

I was magma, unstable, explosive.
You were the rock, the result of previous disasters.
You were simply trying to grow.
I was simply out of control.

You and I were a natural disaster.
And just like most eruptions,
We erupted when it was least expected.
Maybe now, I can cool.
I can stabilize and reform.
You can finally get the stability you need,
From a source less risky than I.

There is beauty in destruction.

she was a river running red through my veins
but i loved her anyway
she would hold my hand but it vaguely
reminded me of when i held my
dying grandmothers hand for the last time
i wonder, what’s killing her.
is it me or the fact that she can’t
go a night without talking to the
most destructive thing in her life.
i guess they’re really the same thing.

i feel bad, she was clean linen sheets
and i was the blood that splattered
them when i just wanted to see her
i couldn’t’ find her in my blood so i
looked in my morning tea and the stars in the sky
now i cant look at anything without thinking
of her

she still has my shirt and i wonder if when
she wears it if she smells the gasoline she
used to light a fire in my soul. i can still
smell the sulfer on the swings where she
first kissed me and i can feel the flames
creeping up the poles holding up our love.

rainy days remind me of how my volcanic
anger erupted lava all over her and how
it burned her for weeks.
and those burns scared.
they tell you fire is dangerous but they don’t
tell you human fire the most dangerous
of them all

we both liked breaking thing so we broke each
other hearts. the six glasses, three bottles, and one
bone were purely accidental. she bruised
her knuckles when she punched the mirror
so hard i felt it in my bones. she didn’t
like what she saw reflected but i liked
the poetry i carved in my skin with the
shards of glass. words written as long
gashes that meant a lot to only me.
the broken mirror broke me.

i couldn’t find her in my blood still but later i
found her curled up in my bed
with the nile river flowing from her
eyes and her hands shaking like an
earthquake. she talked about how life
wasn’t her cup of tea and all i could
think about was the mess in my bathroom
the mess of my life was even worse.
the mess of a wake i left behind was
worst of all.

i tried to take a cold shower to freeze her
touch on my skin but i forgot how water
washes things away. i never quite understood
how i could hurt something i loved so much.

she was worn down with
rust that came from our
combined tears that dried on her skin.
the bags of her eyes went on for miles
until they met her hollow cheeks. hollow
head too, stayed with me even though
she was a white flag of surrender being
swallowed by a stormy ocean who
had no regard for warring hearts

i would never tell the priest that my confessional might
be too much for god himself. i couldn’t
tell about how two of his sheep got
stuck in the crossfire of each others love
and lived to tell the tale. noah didn’t
realize that those seven days on flooding
were gods tears when he heard about the
tragedy of her and i.

i’m surprised she didn’t **** herself when
i told her about how truly messed
up my mind was. about how i walked
only thanks to a prescription cocktail.
about how hearing someone talk could
bring me to tears or make me shut down.
about how i may never be able to love
her properly. that was the hardest part.

telling her that my love was toxic just like my
personality and she was prone to poison.
slowly her eyes dimmed but not before i could
infect her clean blood with my perpetual
sadness. she was a walking skeleton by
the time i was done with her. i felt
bad, i took the flesh off her bones and
the threads of her personality to fix
the holes in my soul. it didn’t work.
my only solace was found in the night time
sky and bruised knuckles that stung with
scrapes from plaster walls. she covered my
walls with poster to cover
where i took out my rage

we were never ones for alcohol but rather getting
drunk off the smell of each other. she always
said i smelled like smoke and mint toothpaste
and an empty house on a summers morning.
she smelled like heaven, the smell of sunshine
and clean clothes and a faint trace of something
sweet and unknown. if i could bottle her smell
i would because it’s almost stopped lingering
on my sheets and clothes. she smells better
than my unwashed hair and salty tears mixed
with the smell of the outdoors.

the night sky was my safety blanket, covering
me in darkness. she was the sun, hurting my
eyes and my head. and they could never share
the same sky.

gods thunder had nothing against the
thunder of her slamming doors and
pounding down stairs. luckily his
tears stained our clothes as i chased
her into the oncoming storm.

my fingers are like matches

because everything I touch turns to ash.

I swear my intentions are golden

and my goals are pure.

but I can’t seem to keep from burning bridges

and speaking singed words.

Wild fires are not meant to be beautiful yet we still fight the urge to climb to mountains ridge to get a better view and feel the heat of the flames on our cheeks to remind us of the same feeling on our cheeks when they told us they loved us. Yet we still can’t correlate that both are equally destructive.

I should come with a ******* warning label,
cautioning others about my tendencies
toward self-destruction,
and warning them of the consequences
of choosing to get too attached
to the inevitable time bomb of me.

I try to warn them away,
but they don't listen,
or they brush it off as nonsense.

"You shouldn't love me," I say,
eyes deep with grief
because I know the truth of the words.

But nobody heeds my ******* warnings,
so I'm left stepping over the remains
of us, having to live with the knowledge
of what I've done.

******, I tried to tell you.
But no one ever listens,
they refuse to believe.

And in the end I'm left having to watch
you shatter, knowing I'm the cause.
I tried to warn you.
You should've listened.