I don't love you
not completely
at least not yet
but I can feel my soul
reaching to entwine with yours
it's tied in a nice neat knot
I love your smile
I love your laugh
I love your stubborness
and everything in between
I don't love you
not completely
at least not yet
not until the knot becomes a tangle
and I love you to the point of stupidity
to the total loss of sanity
to sacrificial limitations
past where I could never forget you
irreversibly wicked
I don't love you
not completely
at least not yet

1307

That short—potential stir
That each can make but once—
That Bustle so illustrious
’Tis almost Consequence—

Is the eclat of Death—
Oh, thou unknown Renown
That not a Beggar would accept
Had he the power to spurn—

I'm only whimpering
But I know you can hear me.

you told me that you loved me
so i lit a match and
watched the words
go up in flames
in front of me
i swallowed the words
i love you too

this is purge
toxic upchuck sludge
rigorous rigor mortis decay
it's not pretty, but it's real

wish I had cupped hands overflowing
with moon rocks and pixie dust
but I'm plumb out at the moment

these words are septic
and the valves rusted over
to get it running again
you gotta let flow

stomach sores fester
bloated bile gurgle
sloshing esophageal shores
the unsaid brimming ruefully

on the cusp of all that was, is
or doesn't even matter anymore
**** if I know

it's all stagnant murky

ah,
the inability to write poetry
when you find yourself happy

To pen my sin
here I go
dancing once again.

I left the coast
on a tiny blue and red rowing boat
I left my shoes on the pier
and jumped right in

I row to a beach and look along it
in moonlight
searching for those certain blue eyes
that I only half-remember
but all I see is strangers staring,
why are they sunbathing at night?

I give up, row back to land
the only sound is me pushing water
I struggle up the rungs of the ladder

lose my footing
fall
then suddenly
I don't know
whether I made it up the ladder at all

It hits out of nowhere, with no warning.
A year since my last mental breakdown,
Thinking I was done with suicidal ideation,
And it hits me with the force of a torpedo.
I never know where it was lying dormant
Or what triggered the volcanic eruption
That burns away all progress made.
I just know that it hurts, and the ash lays heavy on me.
I lie down and I don't let myself get up.