I've got my fingernails dug into sadness
a death grip around the throat of an unfaithful lover
I will not let go until there is no breath
this is a war and I am foxhole deep
my melancholy prayer to an unknown God
as though there were still someone waiting to hear
as though the end were near
but I'll hang on for all I'm worth
until there is nothing left
but desert blue skies and bleached bones

When I go to the beach I remember the first poem I ever wrote for you. It was the first real poem I ever wrote infused with something I'd never known before wave upon wave crashing in with love's desire like a never ending fire.

When I go to the beach I remember the first time I came inside you, the storm howling its voice harder than the headboard against the wall so no one could hear your muffled screams. Quietness ensued, our breathing as deep and easy as our hearts and then you said, "that was my first time...ever." "To come?" "Yes." "Ever?" "Yes."

When I go to the beach I remember the picture you gave me when you walked away, the one that sits on my desk now, the one with with the sea oats and the rising thunderhead and the horizon the same blue as your eyes, the one with the shells you picked up and attached to the simple frame.

Today, I went to the beach.

we take one step forward three steps back
and all the while we are looking for ourselves
not wanting to walk as the living dead
like hearts chained to a desk
like those we **** or want to ****
and we wonder why we are the way we are
wanting more than sometimes seems possible
our desperate yawp that we will not settle
for this living death
you will make your way out of the morass soon enough
and all of this will be a distant memory
a mostly pleasant diversion
from the prison of living

you're the lost and I'm the sin
you're gonna do me again and again
like a long, dark night I'll slowly descend
I am your death I am your end

there is a tall boy living inside my chest
he is the fingerprints all over my memories
he's why i stand at the edge of this cliff,
and why the view burns my lungs
he is the reason i breathe
and the reason i can't
he is the answer to every question
and why i'm always asking more
he is the mist hovering over the ocean,
sometimes i can't see him
but i know he's always there
he is the reason i feel small
and why my hands can touch the sky
he is the tall boy living inside my chest
and even death will not take him away