See this is so strange to me,
all this obsessing
doesn’t break down logically.
But you are breathtaking,
soul shattering if you chose to be
and I would risk eternal damnation
to be next to you and do whatever
you want me to do.

In the morning, my first thoughts
are of you.
In the evening I daydream,
play out strange fantasies
that circle around all the things
I long to do for you
and to you.

When I go to the gym
I try to strengthen
my body and mind
so if the time
comes
when you need me
to defend you
or help you run
then I know
I have done
all that could to prepare.

Part of me is very scared,
because I can imagine
getting lost
somewhere
deep in there,
in a place where me, and I
becomes we and us
because I must
Still, I trust this love
is more than lust.
I desire your mind
and you naked touch

If I am an egg
fragile and ready to shatter,
and all the yoke spills out
like yellow brain matter
if you break my heart,
I know that all the king’s men
and all the king’s horses
couldn’t glue me back the same
cause you would have my heart
and I would keep what remains.
But I will risk it,
because to miss it for fear of trying
to sit out the inning
and go on dying
well what an empty life that would be.

It was long ago
when I wept
with the wind swept
children of
human wreckage,

When bare feet
felt soft soil
and muddy pools
squished themselves
between my toes,

When dark dreams
danced dangerously
inside of me
pushing
death tolls
and grim reaper schemes,

When family
was something imagined
and love was a desert,
or a half empty silver flagon
with dragon’s flames,
fiery liquid burning my
already parched lips,

When the church
claimed my soul
until I finally said
hell no,

When in vain
I tried to explain
a stranger’s pain
to another stranger,

When I slept
and woke in tears
or sat in the dark hallways
because I had no home,

Though many years
have proceeded old pains
the child of humanity
still remains
with red veins
ready to be ripped
to bleed out our shared pain,
stored in the library of my brain
and written
upon these crimson
stained poetry pages.

I sleep, I wake
for a vigil.
What was time?

The godhood
fails, when you
become a beast.

The thick cloud
of sulphur,
after the blast―

rains limbs. To
meet god, this
was so easy?