let out into some miniscule town
by someone else's proportionality,
here is always smaller than somewhere
bigger. there are always more people
somewhere else. there are less people
hiding, like me. and i'm left convinced
still, no matter the permanence of what
i'd say or you'd feel, you'll find someone
new and better, or old and more
familiar (this keeps happening,
the same patterns repeat, the inside
of my head reels). so, don't bother
assuaging my fears. somehow,
by this point, they are mostly what
compose me. i'll fall apart with or
without them. with or without you.
it all hurts.
                   and i can't keep it together.
not today. i burnt my self-esteem, by
my own spark. everything tore me
apart. a jigsaw puzzle, returned to pieces.
but i don't fit: not into anyone's plan.
not into any social hierarchy. not
into my own palm. i'll let you cut off
chunks of me, let you cram me into
where you think i should fit. sure.
but you might not allay my definitions.
i'm sorry.
spelt out s-a-d, i'll collapse into the
same heap. you can make me happy
for a day (or four years). sure.
(but it's no good, if i still hate me.)

she sings like flowers
crawling upstream
sweet, headlit
lines exscoriate out
side the hillsides
play usual patterns.
crawling dust
fronts, measurement
in depths.

i'd rather sleep. least
i might see you.

a hotel away, i'd
be quiet. small
matter. mostly
yours.

concrete carves side
walks out, lifts life,
runs fingers through
morning fog. breaks.

residue, she switches like
clean plastic circuits under
my fingernails. two minutes
breaking down, all it took.
even moving parts from afar
seem placid. could've sworn
i heard just one of your
heartbeats. could've sworn i
was underwater at one or another
point i'll become lack-
lustre and you can change your
mind. no trace of blame. long
after this fact you'll still be
a recurring theme on the
back of my palm as skin shifts
in colourless hues inside
sleep. no matter which hand
i write with, your name
looks the same. shines.

i bide motion, sit still,
as the earth revolves around
something new.

a moment refines
least of all i, coarse
subdivision of all
second skies, stars,
or nothing, minute
from fall. or fallen
already. asleep for
hours. hope coiled
helplessness around
her wrist, caught my
head. spent days in
space. at least, most
of them. can't help
subduction any same,
another algebra in
stone. collapse like
month's passage. hope
won't speak, every
theory is glowing. a
year dissolves empty,
replacing every field
with stripmalls to
mountains again. a
century forgets regicide.

an eternity later, we
press against the wall
like dust coalescing.
hope strings us up,
couple more
embers in the sky.

tonight is the first night i truly sink my teeth
into an idea
     of letting it all go
and yeah sure i've been here before
yeah sure i've put another bullet through my skull
but what good is that to you
and what good am i to you
but still i can't think at all
can't think of anyone else

with bare hands you wring my flesh loose
with cold time i repeat nothing else
and subliming frustration
with two words you broke my ventricles down

with "all yours"
don't say anything
and i could dripfeed you sugar, honey
but what good is that
and what good am i
in the middle of some other night
capturing some other set of eyes
all i've got is gasoline for a smile

but don't wait up
  don't wait for anything better to come
'cause you ain't got me yet

but if you wait up
if you wait up
i can catch you
i can catch the wind

but i can forcefeed you frigidity if you want me to leave
and i can not matter if you want me to...