were i to build a bridge
- that crosses the aching gulf between us -
made of letters, gestures and sounds,
would you trust me enough
to walk across it?
...
the bridge served no purpose
- it went unnoticed -,
eventually torn by tectonic departure.
the real problem was that
we weren't meeting half way.
...
looking back, i wouldn't have crossed it from the other side,
wherever that was.
it's almost funny, how easy it is to delude yourself.
and yet it's so strenuous,
deluding another into saying "i love you."

stay in bed,
the apocalypse
can't bother us here.

forgive me while i rest, please;
i only find freedom
in silence and solitude.

i am compelled to write poetry
in much the same way
as i am compelled by my
bowel movements:
the process, experience, and results
are pretty much no different for me.

my life
is going to cost me dearly.
i didn't ask
for any of this.

my body and soul,
signed away before birth.
the devil takes me.
i try to sell my time into slavery:
it's all i've got, it's all i've got.
but i'm dead labour and depressed.

my life
is going to cost me dearly.
i didn't ask
for any of this.

and could it even be
that i'm in fact a lucky one?
aye, but there are luckier still
and always those less fortunate
while history remains that which it was made into;
the higher up you go, the less gratitude there is.
in retrospect, to never have been
would have been more than enough for me.

my life
is going to cost me dearly.
i didn't ask
for any of this.

in the garden of my life,
the seed of death is planted.
the seasons roll over me
like the winds over the ocean.
the tree of love bears no fruit
and the ivy and vines of isolation grow tighter.
the night sky is a mirror:
every star is collapsed.
each gulf is expanded by the absence of all the yawn of time;
half the moon laughs at my misfortune, justly,
while the other half, unseen, weeps.
dreams that fill my silences are destined not to come true.
every word has become flimsy and untrustworthy,
but they're all i have to build a bridge that reaches you.

(if hell is other people
then submit me to the devil's reign.
if solitude is freedom
then slip me into the heaviest chains.
allow me my weakness—for now, for now.)

the sun
is always setting somewhere.
we stay put,
we're not going anywhere.
please let me keep saying it.