you were too much like a nectarine
in early summer. All poreless and bright
and insinuating sweetness. Filled me up
with your secret eruption then shut me down
with your sleek silver tongue. Lava barricaded my eardrums,
enhancing my blood, fire in your eyes.
I was a plum, stealing forth
in the wake of your Augustine heat. My tender skin
gave way to your deft touch.

But then I bit down,
tasted the flesh beneath your glossy sheen
and oh how it betrays you!
So yellow and unripe, so taut with newness,
still clinging to the brightness of dawn,
spring-frozen with fear of the darkness
of my nectar.

Today I woke up with a magnet
in my pitted stomach. Echoes of
cold metal scour my throat. That love-
-less twang in the aortal penumbras--hope,
a refuge swallowed by the ephemeral night.
I always knew
you were too much like a nectarine
in early summer.

When my hands
succumb into numbness,
When my feet
descend into paralysis,
Would it catch your sight?

Will my little whimper
fading into silence,
Would it touch gently down
on your ears?

When the last
Spirit and Breath
Dissipates

Will anyone bat an eye?
Would it mean anything

Around the cacophony, as I die?

I was never looking into you
I was only pouring an image of myself onto your canvas
Of course I didn’t know
it was me looking into me
this was the mirage of my desire
always in the shape of a question mark
and you
a sweeping mystery
oozing something toeing the peculiar line between *** and titanium (cold, edgy, sharp - trembling
between pain and principle
like blazer and tie
or more like halfway-unbuttoned-shirt-and-slacks on-with-no-tie
(it was like you were making an effort!))

It was ***
but it also wasn’t ***
(I am empty
I am full)

I keep building up and up and up
all these images in my Mind
(which never shuts up)
(a never-ending narrative
She spins and spins and succumbs
only in those rare and passing circumstances)
constructing people like buildings
only the scaffolding is imaginary and when
the architecture folds in on itself
soulless
and my beloved figurines come toppling down on me
why do I still get so surprised
so stung
so lonely in that
hollow and distant way
(like your Mind is echoing
in on
Itself)?

My Mind is like quicksand
devouring streams of memory with ease
forever unsatisfied and craving more of the same
sharp edges and all
praying for a satiation in some distant future
She knows will never come

Only here
in this tiny universe
can I spell out anything resembling rationality
from the mess and junk and tangled tendrils of my Mind
Only here
can I extract bits and pieces of thoughts
and try to puzzle them together
until they make sense
until I can separate “Me” from “Reality"

And what doesn’t make sense
what I need to understand
is why I feel so beset
with this heavy magnetism that
overpowers me to the point of
paralysis
(with little to no room for breathing)
and why it was you
who pushed me into this feeling
and you
who is still pulling me along
far past the threshold of my resistance
and I am done
and it stings

So many lives in an essence of mind
the possibilities endless
there are so many of me
I don't know which one to give life to
I'm like a deer in the headlights
starring down my inevitable fate
how funny we should die together

be gin and it seems there is so much time left / pro ceed ing and speed ing much fast er a gain / craw ling and march ing the mo ments count down / the tick ing grows loud er the se cond hand 's shou ting and fas ter yet slo wly i'm fro zen a sleep / i'm thin king in slo mo time's spee ding and surg ing a round de com pos ing and what do i mean  ? what can i show for the min utes i'm was ting ? i need to be mov ing like there 's no time left / can i get some where make some thing be fore the end ? move me to trust you build some thing be cause I can 't / ev er y se cond i'm dying i need your breath /

Get out of my headspace ...
It's too clouded.
I'm no longer able to decipher the view outside ,
my eyes are no longer a window,
the brain just a sham of the thoughts once creatively flowed.
A raging storm within.
How long will this go on?
days ? weeks? months? years?
or perhaps maybe even an eternity?
It's a blizzard unfit for humanity ,
my deepest innermost thoughts are frozen solid ,
no longer spirits they once were,
you need to leave.
This headspace of mine cannot bare it any longer.
It may spread to my body.
The cold is numbing,
dehabiliting to the mind.
Imagine what it could do to my body,
halt all movement,
solidify the blood in every vain,
creating a state of frozen paralysis.
The only outcome is death.
Please leave my headspace.
You are no longer welcome.
These chills down my spine are a foreshadowing of the destruction to come to my temple.

he takes one more gulp
finishing the bottle
whiskey dripping from his lips
he looks at you
you are frozen
as he drunkenly stands up
he sharply wipes his upper lip
and then licks them
your eyes look left
and then right
searching for your younger sister
thankfully
she is nowhere to be seen
as the home you shared
was now unsafe
you don’t move
as he takes a step toward you
paralyzed under his watch
you start to sweat
he swears under his breath
and you are beyond nervous now
you hear his belt unbuckle
before you see it drop to the floor
your mind tells you to run
but your feet do not move
his eyes squint at you
as he says, “don’t you think it’s past your bedtime?”
and you silently sit still
praying to God that he will turn around
he does not
in fact, he starts moving in your direction
faster now
and you squirm in your seat
afraid of what comes next
you look into his black, soulless eyes
hoping he will see your innocence
he does not
his zipper is now undone
and his grimy fingers
roughly jerking at your skirt
you are afraid
but the numbness sets in
and your eyes become heavy

I am paralyzed by fear.
I am paralyzed by doubt.
I am paralyzed by the questions I don't want but need to ask.
I am paralyzed by the answers I don't want but need to know.
I am paralyzed staring at my pillows as my body hangs sideways off of the bed.
I am paralyzed by the feelings I almost wish I had never felt.
I am paralyzed by my past.
I am paralyzed by past lies and how they're seeping into my present psyche.
I am paralyzed by the love that I've felt.
I am paralyzed by the potential love I'm now unsure I want to feel.
I am paralyzed by the future, by what it holds.
I am paralyzed by you.

Heavy chest. Chained limbs.
Vivid senses, but a blurred vision.
Awake, but hope dims
As the bed becomes a grim prison.
It's from these deceiving dreams, I believe,
And the tempting embrace of slumber
Into which woes I'd sought to relieve.

Alas, here I lay.
Frozen senses, but some - sound, sight, touch -
Remain to parlay
Those who love the shadows o so much.
Is that my mother? No, it can't be.
But who stands there, watching at my side?
Could it be my sister to wake me?

The same vague figure
Always at the ready to deceive
And eager to lure
Me, tried and worn, from the bed to leave.
Possessing my mother's sweet, soft voice,
Imitating my father's presence,
Holding me down, leaving me no choice.

Tied at all my limbs,
At the chest too; there is no escape.
I hear the grim hymns
Of that shadowy figure, whose shape
Embraces my body - I can't breathe!
More than my mind, at times, it will ****.
All I can do is hope to be free.

It all feels so real.
To the bed I'm pinned as these horrors
Make way with such zeal.
I can't even scream, despite the tortures.
Breathing heavily, I try to move,
Watching what else the figure conjures.
It's for these nightmares, to sleep, I rue.