and when your babies were born
you named them for the stars
but the backyard was all they ever saw
when your mother got the call
the world was obsessed
but when we change the channel
you'll still feel him inside
you'll still feel him

zan 20h

she cries herself to sleep
she hurt herself to bleed
she pleaded herself to keep
she loved him just to be tricked—

and starved herself to live.

Night crawls like lizards
with tongues of opalescent horror

Sleep is a blanket on someone else's bed

and I jolt and gasp like she had

connected by that plastic tube
to a life finally withdrawn

Sleep is torn from my lungs which choke on fears that close around me as coal dust

and all I see in the dark are the
worst things she suffered

from cancer's tongues of horror

Then radiance reaches from your woken soul and you recite Quran over me
like a Southern faith healer

with laying on of hands

They slither away from the light you've conjured and I sleep oh I sleep

Daylight memories appear as camera flashes

petty poltergeists easily banished

Yet darkness always follows day as an anxious housemaid

Memories slip their skins and crawl from discarded scales again where they shouldn't

And since the day
I fell in love with you
I lived in fear
someone better
will love you too.

I'm underneath an amber twilight
(and tasteful landscaping)
flirting with nostalgic anticipation
in room 1034
yet alone and content
I should photograph my life events
or the morning dew, still wet
with evaporating trepidation
which breaks into a cold sweat
when soothed by the resolution
of the seventh, to the third, to the root of the polyphony, harmonizing to the tune
of a Scantron being scribbled on,
or my choice
to ignore
everyone
(at least until finals are over)

Dread crawls up my spine,
originating at
the small of my back
and leaving
penetrating
residue
on each
vertebra
as it climbs.
It sneaks
into my heart
when I'm
not looking
and POUNCES-
its incisors
clamp down
and its
venom
ejects
into my chest;
paralysis begins there and races outwards right into my limbs and brain until I can't think or move as the hallucinogens take over my mind's eye and play me a reel that boils my stomach.
Loss and
loneliness and
heartbreak
flash before my
eyes in a
sickening torrent.
I feel a
W  A  L  L
of irresistible
time behind my
back,
pushing me,
heels digging in
and pleading "no, no"
the whole way,
slowly, but inevitably
towards the end of everything I've ever known,
and everyone that
I've so
recently
grown to truly,
dearly love
as my friends.

So many around me
are counting down
to that day,
bound to the
same force as I,
but feeling it
instead
as a leash
that will only let
them go
inch
          by
                inch,
                      ­   day
                                 by
                                       day.

For them, a prison break;
for me, a life sentence
of aching for
the people
I've only just
claimed as mine;
among them,
the boy I've held on to,
just starting to become a man,
whom I love
with all my
bruised
and scarred heart.

I don't want to leave.
                                     .
                                      .
                       ­                .

Basically, I'm terrified to graduate.

If I could act on my revenge now, would I?
Some kill, some steal, some break your heart
And you thought I would let it go
Let you off
Broken hearts, break bones, and break up fast
And I don't wanna let go
So in my grave, I'll rot
I've dug two graves for us, my dear
Can't pretend I was perfect when you in fear
Oh man, what a world of things I hear
If I could act on my revenge now, would I?
Some kill, some steal, some break your heart
And you thought that I would let go
Let you off
Broken hearts, break bones, and break up fast
And I don't wanna let go
So in my grave, I'll rot

Rabbits scurry and frolic,
Always living in perpetual peace, and Fear,
They know something,
Of the cruelty, this world has to offer.
They have seen comrades rendered piles of meat,
Upon the hot barren asphalt street.
No longer able to frolic and play,
With their friends of the day.  
As they have become,
A mummified disc of hair,
And bone.

May

There are circles around my eyes that I trace
in dark streets, trying to find
my way home. A mind of clogged dust
settles on my shoulders, stagnant
and old. My hands are blue and heavy, slow
with ice. Hair hangs, sodden,
thick with burden.
My skin is rotting.
The sun winds around my body,
spinning me, dizzying me,
making me lose my way
as compass needles
stitch their tracks into the earth,
lines of misguidance
taking me absolutely
nowhere.

~~ May melancholy. ~~
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