A horrid jealousy invades my heart
because I can't accept the harsh reality
that I am not yours,
A flood of tears sweeps my outer soul
and I recognize my non-existence
as the razor is pushed deeper;
inserted directly into
my soft, tangle of emotions.
You hang my heart on a leash
and drag it on the ground.
But why do you lead me on?
only to melt sugar in the rain,
Look at you...
knotting my stomach
and withering my soul.
Why can't I let go?
Maybe if I cared more
about myself than I do you.
But I don't.

A star with night between her teeth; a girl
Staggers a dance of seven heels, less six.
Cues strewn along her route: a pin, a pearl,
A tired, ****** queen a-lean on bricks.
 
Though under veil of spotlight she makes sway,
No trace of rule remains on head or feet.
Each sunset swallowed before birthing Day
To toss to sirens feeding in the street.
 
Nocturnal vagrants fever dreaming deep
Her cafe consorts, seeking but a friend.
Mascara floods downstream where ducklings sleep,
So get her to a bed and to an end.
 
And though low trolls will ever tweet her shame
Each morning's jay will always sing her name.

"She just had to say it,
She couldn't keep it to herself,
I knew we were in a rough patch
But this, her ex." I need time to think.
As I sit down on the steps outside
I light, take a drag, and blow

"This can't be my fault, can it?
With all we've been through?
How could she throw this away,
For what, a fling!?" My clouded judgment stews.
The steps become uncomfortable
But I light, take a drag and blow.

"What I should do is bust this door down,
And force her to tell me why.
Why am I not good enough for you?
Why would you throw what we have away!
Tell me why!" And as the stairs began to poke and ****.
I light, take a drag, and blow.

"This is rediculous!" And as I rose from the stoop.
"There's just got to be a reason!
You don't do something like this without a reason!"
Were the words that flooded out of my mouth,
As I pushed our once inviting door open,
And I light, take a drag and blow

"You owe me this, look at me!"
She just continued packing a box
full of our things, our lives, her lies.
So as I flung the box to the ground.
Grabbing her shoulders I screamed "Why!!"
Just light, take a drag, and blow

Her fiery stare was more telling
Than any word that would follow from her lips.
"We haven't been right for years.
You've changed, I've changed."
And I knew there was no more I could do.
Except light, take a drag and blow.

She continued with, "I can't believe you're surprised.
Where do you think I've been going?
You are worse at keeping a wife,
than you are at keeping a job," she sliced.
She was right. I sat down on our former love seat to think
Just light, take a drag and blow.

I helped her pick up the scattered contents,
Of the box I had strewn to the floor.
******* each lie, my ears teary,
I knew this was it. He pulled up at 9.
She left with him at 10, my heart sulked in the corner
I just took a drag and blew.

the watch told time skewed
but the truth that he viewed
was not for us to understand
nor for us to watch along the sand.

Seconds ticked by
but as he looked to the sky
minutes dragged on
and hours fell silent upon,

his life

I often dream of running, I dream of fleeing
but every time I try to leave
they drag me back to this place they’ve deemed
reality.

I often find I’m lost in their uncertainty –
but I'm certain that I’m dying
in this place that I was never meant to
be.

Falling in line with the rest
Forgetting that life owes nothing
Knowing better, yet, still being dragged to the dregs of humanity
Weighted by words, chained to emotion
Drowning in doubt, scraping across broken standards
Settling into the remnants of the wasted dreams of a people

I drag my nails down my thighs
creating furious jagged lines
surrounded by cloudy milk white.

it stings less than the sadness I feel.

Nails the length of javelins click on countertop
with the speed of a coked-up woodpecker
as this goddess of the night with bullets
of caked foundation sweating from her forehead
awaits her fifth free Long Island of the night.

Safe to say, she's a little high maintenance,
like all treasured centerpieces
of a local museum deserve to be.

She is your generation's Mona Lisa, trust.
Her sneezes will be dissected for coding.
Like the rust on buried Babylonian armor,
she lives sandwiched between myth and reality.

A Frankenstein of queer iconography,
door-knocker earrings designed by Adrian.

Stilts for heels clack on blinking dancefloor,
balancing a hermaphroditic echo
that charges through hieroglyphic binaries
with a four-on-the-floor precision.

darling is my song sweet enough to draw your soul to me
can I lure you like you lure me?
are you frightened ?
that ill drag you under the icy waves
bring you to the end of your days?
why is a sirens love never returned?
are we just made to feast on the pure
and never endure the feel of real love