there wasn’t a significant point in time when everything turned wrong
I hadn’t woken up one day realizing that I was cursed
like in a dream when you realize you aren’t awake
and none of this is real
but the feeling began somewhere
I remember times when I felt home, never lonely
since then there has been a gradual crushing silence
a sharp knife cutting deeper and deeper
with the weight of years of self hate
and the months I had sat upright in bed
as dust settled on my skin
like opening the door of an attic
for the first time
after forgetting it even existed
I knew I was already dead.
someone told me: make your life worth writing about
I thought of all the things I could say
I thought of choking on them or swallowing them whole
all the words and their combinations that could describe this era
I have not learned yet
of all the chapter books I created in my head
mine is a story the world will never finish reading
because it is dull and melancholy
like the way every day feels the same
all of the personal narratives and essays I had written in school were a lie
I won’t write about the future
I loathe the present
whispers of the past made me numb
although I don’t hate previous versions of myself
I see them all individually
as ordinary people I once was
they could be anyone.
I look into my mirror
I liked it better with cracks and scratches
because then I could see my genuine reflection
nothing I tell myself is honest, I hide behind my own deception
the daggers of delusion inches from my veins
ready to slice me in two
there is no such thing as an alter ego
as much as my mind tries to convince me
that I’m not alone
that there are other personas living inside me
and you only get to see one.

sleepless midnight
crisp evening air
turquoise darkness
figures, waiting
painted the dawn
swirling blue
dreams, pooling
caramel lullaby
vacant home
no longer alone

you are the burning house
that I want to live in

there's a rhythm behind
these sunken eyes
thundering  storms without a voice

where red ribbons are tied
nooses swing from the sky
gasps are lost in the dead of white noise

notice cracks in your skull
thoughts are foggy and dull
clouds will echo a slumbering plea

and until you've woken up
with your mouth sewn shut
you won't know what it's like to be me

my brother, my home
we were born from the same sunken star
a pair of old weary souls

still far apart, falling apart
I miss your nearness to me
but we are a bit closer among the universe

if you ever feel like
your world is uninhabitable
you can join mine

because I cannot remember if you're
a dream or a memory
I swear we've touched before

although I had always been wishing
you weren't a fragment of
my own imagination

I'll remember you in new ways
like the creatures of the night
remember daylight
the way old oak branches
reach for the sky
growing a home within themselves
growing from nothing at all
in pending loneliness
many moons ago
a nocturnal acquaintance
formed his own memory
a mere shadow in disguise
the ghost of
tomorrow's sun

there's this recurring dream we had
moonlight was setting along the shore
I opened up these closet walls
and waves came crashing towards

the scribbling hands and empty palms
reaching for molecules of flesh
these tired eyes and great disguise
wishing for a single breath

I tell you time again that I'm wading
in an ocean you can't see
and they're threatening to drown me
though I'm only ankle deep

the mountains towered
the evening darkened
the seventh hour begins
the toxic thoughts inside your mind
are sure to win again.

the trees swayed
the earth crumbled
the moon will bear my skin
the lingering light and empty nights
have stolen a piece within.

the flames calmed
the ocean parted
the eyes of God dimmed
the world saw you for the first time
and bowed before your sins.

alone in the fog
you're the damp and heavy morning
a hazy snowfall
soft and gentle
cold

a perfect lullaby
makes me dream while I'm awake
because we are whole again
swirling visions
glow

neither of us slept at all
I can't close my eyes for one second
without seeing your
flickering eyes
green

snow globe eyes
where enemies hide
carried away by a
sea foam surprise

noises fluoresce
clouds fall to rest
to save winter's goddess
from a fushia mess

he's a skeleton's shadow
born from human remains
black stained wrists
of all mistakes he's ever made.
his face is distorted
sinking in red static
masked by a trance
of blurry panic.
hollow demon eyes
his cold stare is deadly
I no longer cry
feeling so empty.
hissing in silence
a serpent's tongue
of my only friend
a lonely one,
will catch his breath
and count to ten
until blankness subsides
and the parade begins.
swallow me whole
he's all that I know
I can't bear to hear
deafening, slow,
"no fear," we chant.
no fear.

purple anthem
restless phantom
darkening autumn
haunted cavern
enemy's verse
stranger curse
awakened by
yesterday's hearse

orange crush,
when we were born
sunkissed yellow rays peaked
in liquid shining brilliance
bubbling stardust
spilled down into puddles
rising in vibrance
until the world fizzed over

Little Boy Blue lost his shoes
While dancing through The Forest
His soles never touched the ground
But The Earth spun around just the same

His Soft Little Tune
Sent him away from The Moon
Down to The Water's Edge
Will we catch a glimpse of sunlight ever?
Is seems though The Path leads forever

Little Boy Blue was lost in his muse
While taking back His Forest
His trembling hands ache too soon
Naked wandering eyes in the gloom
Say goodbye to your Little Boy's Doom

But The Stars bless the scars in his skin
The way flesh turns into rust and into sin
May The Trees part in way of your pride
And bow before Little Boy Blue

dancing away the seasons
why do sounds of spring sound like
fingernails on a chalkboard
all I want is warmth
all I want is to feel the sun on my skin
all I want is to brush golden rays in your hair
and call this fire mine
there's this destructive flame
it glimmers and sways
melts away the things that give us
power and fame
but through the leaves and the rain
we were born to be vain
no one sees you cry in the summer
icy cold haze where temperature is so far away
you need no one but the sun
and since the last two years have begun
I am drained and sunken
I need to sleep for the spring

there is only one kind of love that I know
it hangs over my head silent and still
weaving around tufts of hair and
under my fingernails
there is only one kind of love that I know
it can be violent and cruel
always leaving a sweet taste in my mouth
and blackens my teeth
there is only one kind of love that I know
it pools in tears of anger instead of sadness
it softens rough edges making it
a bit harder to see
there is only one kind of love that I know
it will only be for the self and dwells within
for which it will never appear on
the surface on my skin in
red splotched lines
there is only one kind of love that I know
it has engraved words unspoken into flesh
burning into languages that never existed
the kind of love that I know is beautiful
but only in a camera lens and not in the
reflection of murky water
there is no trust between myself and these walls
it is distorted
running thin
how I wish this love would only last.

she was an artist.
there was no other glow to compare to the beauty she saw, it reflected onto her skin and into her pale sunken eyes. the night is a dull and wonderless place. she watched other artists in confusion, wondering why they painted with ashes and blood onto an empty canvas. she painted with white onto black and into stars made of glass that sprang from darkness.
but she was no artist.
the lines spilling from her hands to her feet made a trace back to her heart and tangled her hair with frustration and breathless lungs. there was no longer room for a paintbrush. there was no longer room for air. the canvas was born empty. the stars were born without light. now evening towers above her, aching goodnight.

I dress like a school boy. Plaid collars clashed with sweaters and stiff jeans that are skin tight. I paint stars on my cheeks because i am one with the sky, one with the world above me, a part of this universe. I wear crooked eyeliner to match the fierceness in my eyes.  But nothing i do seems to mix. I am the human truth, that part of reality the world does not want you to see. I am not plain or irregular, i am blank. My hair is blue but it does not stand out against the greys and the black. My bedroom sheets are red stained with white and the walls are sticky like rain. They close in around the empty spaces, threatening the oxygen filling the room. Its not always this hard to breathe, but when it is I feel alone. I feel every breath escape my body and form clouds in the sky that turn into snow. The snow falls into piles around the ground, where people shiver and catch colds. It is made into snowmen, and dressed better than the people dress themselves.
Then they melt. They melt like the fire in your eyes on a stormy night. They melt like the lives who were never meant to be lived and they melt like the tears trickling down your chin. They melt like the silence left after you're dead and gone, and when there's nothing left to say. Then the water runs in your veins and pools in your heart. It stains my hands and knees, and all the places I pray at night, hoping someone out there will hear me. And as I stand up and dust off my skin tight jeans and salty skin, I push off my scratchy sweater that i have hated to wear and look at myself in the mirror. I ask "What am i? Who am I? And why the hell am I here?" And the answer is never to be found, like the stars in your eyes,  like the stars in the snow.