Shape the way your fingers trace constellations on my skin,
Or the way your laughter lingers in my ribs,
A melody too human for its cold, calculated hands.

It could never script the way our eyes meet,
That silent understanding,
That unspoken language,
Too intricate for fate to weave into its fragile threads.

It tries—oh, how it tries—
To intervene, to twist, to break,
To reclaim us as its own.
Yet we slip through its grasp,
Like sand through clenched fists,
Like stardust escaping gravity.

Destiny waits in the shadows,
Silent, seething,
Cursing the love it did not create.
It watches as we carve our own fate,
As we step outside its lines,
As we make something greater
Than anything it ever dared to dream.

Destiny could never…

You’re a crash out,
Life hanging in the fray,
Like meat on a hook,
Begging the gator to grab it’s bite.

Worthless in your self indulgent importance
Weak bodied malcontent
A mental amputee with no prosthetic to aid a thought
Narcissus in Australian skin
You resemble worthless.

You prey on children
Like a bad Freddy Krueger film
Promises of encouragement
In crude pornographic suggestions
Buy them off in golden tickets,
But no one buys the chocolate,
You’re no Wonka at all.

Derelict in a domicile
A stranger to your ailing family
Not one reaches to save,
Just wishes you’d die to match the day
You died in their eyes
Already forgotten, beside a grave
A walking cancer, zombie like in parasitic need
A whirlwind of discomforting regrets
Wrapped in a middle aged obese frame,
No one could ever love you.

Sad impotent invalid,
With your melodramatic fallacies
Crying wolf to any ears unaware
And yet the only animal resides
Behind beady feminine eyes,

The mirror reflects,
And reality rejects
A simple, simpleton
With tiny hands,
And malformed manhood
Better befitting a woman’s pleasure nub,
You stimulate not even an emotion from the corpses.

I don’t hate you though,
No hate requires a measurement of care
And the truth is if you disappeared,
And washed ashore a bleached whale,
And they said you wrote me love letters
I’d disregard you the same,
Take your animosities and add them into a sum of zero
Because I feel nothing but indifference

A predator that ***** at hunting prey
And I am the poacher,
I’ll skin you while you’re alive
Just so you can see the ugly underneath
The muscle will touch acidic baths,
And the current will wash you away.

You wish to ****** a child,
But I have ****** your brain,
Without consent and there is no safe word
And no where new you can hide,
Because you kicked this hornet’s nest
And I am not so easily extinguished
An eternal flame to watch you burn
I’ll render you embers and ash,
And spread you across the web
Like outstretched stars in the universe
A connect the dots to the face of a *******

And I’ll watch you hang yourself
By the very rope you’ve woven
With every lie typed and spoken
I will see you, destroy yourself.
And then I will have peace.

they say you should plant a seed
a seed of love and passion,
leave something growing after you


what can i plant
in scorched barren land?


that is what was left of my soul.

i am sure
i can do nothing.
i am so sorry.
i cannot be normal.
i cannot grow anything.


I
AM
SO
DONE

She is a medicine that I must take in small doses.
A prescription that I've hated the taste of since I started it years ago.
I can't stop taking it now, we've gone so far together,
And I don't want to cause any issues.
If I take my medicine more often than usual,
She will give me stomach aches.
I hate the taste of my medicine,
But if I take it every once in a while, it's tolerable, and I don't mind it.
Then I think about the fact that I'm taking medicine,
And my body aches once more.
If I don't take it, I'm full of guilt.
If I do take it, I'm full of pain.
She is a prescription that will pain me forever

Pain has terrorized me for an eternity.

Creator,
I have cried immensely
I prostrate myself before you
long ago, I believed I had submitted
though, apparently
submission befalls me this moment.

How much stronger has my torment become
over a period of many moons now
I can suddenly comprehend the wailing proclamations of dying men
their spirits suddenly snatched from the comforts of their varying delights.
The knowledge is contained within physical flesh
yes, contributing to the composition of memories – cognition
still, those memories are compiled inside of cerebral creases – tissue.
The same portions of knowledge are stored
composing the affectionate and turbulent strings
bonds that serve, only, to tether individuals intimately to one another.

I can now feel, with precision, the agony of broken hearts
continuously trampled upon
or existing underneath the feet of fiends of malicious intent.

Oh,

how they play with the heart
kisses and hugs that deceive my soul
ensnaring my innocence inside of their selfish glee.
Shallow beast!
Who hath no capacity to love
instead,
an endless pit of torment where her heart should be.

An addition of stress
I labored under the collective scheme of those who absconded with my children
such an action that triggered my mental and emotional faculties negatively
a most sinister pain.

Was there something,
at my birth,
that you, the creator, should have explained?
I, youth, grand descendant of the emperor Sundiata Keita
my mature life reflective to that of the biblical Job.
Did you, Elohim the creator, devise my life to experience and endure pain?
The strain upon my spirit loomed heavily
supreme, because of the glass smoke I consistently ingested.
Ultimately, there presented the dematerialization of my personalization.

So, according to those facts of life
it ceases me to promote any wonder of how my life has gestated my hatred
which was emboldened by the thieves of my seeds
prompted by a harbinger of toxic unifications – a devil sent to sever my loving patience.

Creator,
lo,
I gripe because my distress is great
the foundation – that night that my initial hero was slain
unbeknownst to I that night would become the prelude to my life’s testimony.
I have, since, stared into the eyes of men, who presumably, re-enacted my fate -
lonely
eternally heartbroken
so they rejected to engage human compassion
hermits
components of communities comprised of other outcasts
a kingdom of vast distances between denizens
bleak.

Creator, lo
I am soon to quiet my grievances.
I do appreciate that you awaken me and guide me into new days
but, I must ask, still,
why am I to persist in enduring a pain so pure?

Down there,
in the depths of my chest,
my heart contemplates fear and abandonment
my tears remain the testament of my citizenship
the captive of an emotional void composed of a morbidly horrendous uncertainty
they are poised to terminate and bury me.

Creator,
if I collapse of a broken heart before the eyes of them all,
will you carry me?
Yet,
also,
and still,
if I expire alone
my breath ceasing, in the absence of all,
in my solitude,
will you cover me?

I took my broken pain and

laid it in a cradle.


I hid it from the world

deep in the corners of my secluded dwelling -


Caressed it tenderly, and fed it

bite sized pieces of anger and

contempt.. until it

blossomed the most beautiful hatred

I had ever known


It stretched forth vines..

gnarled and twisted.. with

barbed thorns that

clung to my every limb..


enshrouding me in a deep and

comfortable nirvana .


How I hate how I love my hatred..


The only genuine gift

I can give freely.

© Nathan A. Brock