I'm leaving Carly's place after an all day ****** that had me convinced that paradise lay in the legs of Nate's sister wearing a unicorn onesie, and as they put on Sgt. Peppers and lay there the ****** freudian passion play overcame my capacity for archetype observation and I proceeded to walk around the room thanking everybody in that space and time for the gift of starting the **** with Nate's sister, the beat changed and they turned on me and said I needed to give her space, they all became timeless aliens traveling through time to **** and I was one of them coming online in a loop, and as long as I stayed awake I would remember and not be *****. I sat cross legged holding my friend sams hands, looking into his eyes, saying aloud we're creating the universe constructing all as the three smartest people of all time, forever throughout we died but never died, as long as we could stay awake, they all wore red and I couldn't trust any of them, I fired off mad questions and demanded to know the secrets of the universe and why woman wasn't the answer, I called up to nate to bring her down to me, and generally became a raving lunatic
      after some time of sam being soulmate and accepting him forever as my lover self same image, and also calling him ugly as im ugly, then channeling Brittany through him and countless other regressive exercises, we started inhaling nitrous gas, and the world became one stretched out moment
       and I kept calling out before, all the way up, as it were the secret spell with a handshake to fool the devil
         I thought Nate a mad spirit habituating this plane as a long gone failed hero plagued by the madness of wanting to **** his sister and forced to watch all his friends be aware of their own lust, so that pushed him into clowning, which he is an expert, that primal lust took me up and id taken a holy mandate to **** this beautiful creature and ascend to paradise,
when they slipped her upstairs they left her rainbow onesie, i felt heaven become another step remote and my faith tested, I resolved to be the last awake and never die, I walked up to the attic, and saw the light beaming from the window


            Sam dropped me off at the press grill so I could eat some grub,
then I met up with Tyler for a drink somewhere while he told me his story of meeting a guy in a skyline chilis bathroom drunk at 3 am, he said the guy was standing at the ****** but wasn't *******. Ty asked him if he was done and the guy put Ty in a chokehold with his pants down, according to Ty the cops came in and he was putting clean shots into the guys mug, he is contemplating leaving town before they can indict him for felonious assault, I told him Canadas nice but Venezuela doesn't have an extradition treaty, come to think of it neither does Cuba, but Ty is too proud for that probably
   anyways we meet Carly being a dancing beauty in a high falootin joint with string lights called Julep, the only reason to mention it is because as we were leaving a guy was bent over the rail vomiting and looking wretched he noticed us watching him as we smoked our cigarettes off to the side and immediately decided that he wasn't some kind of side show freak to be gawked at, he became threatening in the most base and pathetic way a human can, and his bride came to tell us to ******* with her father, father of the bride shaking my hand, we eventually left that scene and walked to Oddfellows where I saw Sam Cohan and he bought me a beer, good chap, we talked until I stepped toward Carly, Tyler and a fine looking strange *****
I touched Carly and received an awkward unmemorable introduction to the strange *****. She walked away but lurked and locked eyes with me as the evening rolled on
later Carly told me that the girl demanded to meet the guy who looks like Heath Ledger, a sure fire ****, so Carly is grinding on my **** and my backs to the bar and Tyler already got me a beer, and there I was, a pirate king
I took Carly out after the lights came on, and was going to give Tyler the run of my place, he disappeared into the night and I showed Carly my favorite smelling tree, a pink mimosa still in bloom late July, we almost ****** on my car, until I went back to her place and we ****** until $430, rising at noon, I left telling her we had an hour to get ready to journey to Findlay for Jim's wedding
I showered and brushed my teeth and collected my suit and put it on without a tie
I picked up Carly and set out upon the road, but made a quick stop for a bite
two deaf guys ordered in front of me and the kid working the register said my glasses were cool, along the way I was telling Carly the story of how I wore make up for the first time to a middle school dance, and she said she had to *****, I didn't believe her at first until she tried to stick her head out the window half way rolled down, I managed to get it down all the way and wet streaks of human gut waste caught the wind and splattered my window
we pulled over and I went to get her some napkins to clean herself off as I squeeged the car, she tried to wipe the window with the napkins, sweet girl. The wedding started at 3:30 and we didn't have more than five minutes to spare, she found her vape pen 20 minute out as Heather started to send me worried messages, as I was set to read a passage, little did I know that I was leading off the whole affair, I arrived and was quickly rushed to meet the mothers and have a boutonnière pinned to my lapel , the women all looked stunning and I congratulated each in turn as they shoved a program in my hand, Tiffany took me through the drill, we walked up to the stage and took our places on the bench, looking out at the beautiful shining faces,


I was the only one not wearing a tie, but thats not important, I saw Jim and embraced him with all the love I could muster, he looked at me and said that he knew I would make it, that he knew that he just had to trust the flow, and I would appear in the nick of time, the pastor threw his hands in the air and welcomed the families, the mothers lit candles, and then Tiffany looked at me and said that it was my turn, I stepped up to the Beema and gazed out over the crowd, trying to summon something clever, nothing good came to mind and so I opened my mouth and said, "a reading from Genesis" and then put every fiber of my being into reminding the room that it is Gods will that we be fruitful and multiply. I'm told I slammed my hands down for emphasis and let out a hearty amen, a man's man's amen, and turned and took one giant step off the podium with two baby stairs, I gracefully flowed into the bench having averted a complete embarrassment, and then tactfully left the stage with Tiffany after her read.   Jim looked at me after mine with a nod, and I said the word strong, that read cemented my status as a star of the party, and the mojo flowed, I was called the cash guy by the hotel, for checking in as Atlantis Grosshammer, $200 depost, we drank and danced and an old lady came to me to say that I have a beautiful soul
I thanked Jim's father for helping to create my friend, and danced around bottles
the cake was good
I told Carly I always catch the brides garter, at every wedding I've ever been. I saw Jim's men assemble for his toss, I let the men come and put myself in the mix, Jim turned his back and had a misfire,
the temptation to collect it passed all of us by thankfully, and he was set to fire again, it came to me and I snatched it out of the air, cold as ice I walked off the floor only with eyes for Carly not even saying a word to Jim, I put that thing on my head and went back to Jim threw him on my shoulders and swung him around like we were in a broadway musical
two kids playing in the street,
he said its the best moment, and so it goes

I broke up with God
at our favorite eatery
in our favorite booth.

We settled into familiar creases
and asked for the usual.

My eyes lazily staring at fingers
stirring the straw around the ice cubes,
God cautiously spoke up:

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing.” (Thinking about the dormant phone
concealing behind the lock screen
the open Facebook tab
lingering over the relationship status section.)

They silently mused over the laconic reply,
til the waitress showed up with the food.

“Thank you!” God blurted with agonizing alacrity.

I received the sustenance lifelessly
and aimlessly poked at the burgers and fries.

The waitress eyed me with vague inquisition,
popping a bubble in the gum between
big teeth, refilled my water
and pirouetted hastily.

We ate in ostensible harmony,
the silence gripping like a chokehold,
the visible anxiety and subdued resolve
settling like a stifling blanket
over the child waking
from a nightmare—

Til we couldn’t breathe,
and I ripped back the covers
and looked into the eyes
of my tormentor.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

God, taken aback by the curt statement,
dropped their burger with shaking hands,
silently begging with wetting eyes
a greater explanation.

So I elaborated:

“It’s not you, it’s me.

For your immaculate conception
was created by human hands,

your adages rendered obsolete
by human words,

your purpose and plan for us
distorted by human nature—

I cannot hate myself any longer.

I cannot pretend to know you at all.

Who my mother and father say you are
is not who my friends think you are,
nor my teachers, my pastor,
the president, Stephen Hawking,
Muhammed, the KKK, Buddha,
the Westboro Baptist Church,
Walt Whitman, Derek Zanetti,
******,
and Billy Graham.

I am told you care who I bring into bed (and when),
and what movies I watch,
and what music I listen to—

I have not heard what you say about
child soldiers, the use of mosquitos,
or the increased destruction of the earth
which you proudly proclaimed your creation,
or the poverty and disease and famine
which has ridden so many of your children—”

God interjected,
“But you’re chosen!”

I snorted,

“You say I’m chosen
to spend eternity with you—
why me?

Why’d you pick me among
thousands, millions, billions?

I’ve been told I’m ‘chosen’
since birth
by others like me—

those with fair complexion,
blue eyes,
blonde hair,
a firm overt ****** attraction towards women,
and a great big house
with immaculate white fences
delineating their Jericho.

I’ve already fabricated eternity
here among the other ‘chosen’
and there is a world of suffering
right outside the fence
and I see them
through the window of my bedroom
every day.

Am I chosen,
if I don’t vote Republican

Am I chosen
if I am Pro-Choice

Am I chosen
if I cohabitate with my girlfriend

Am I chosen
if I never have kids

Am I chosen
if I say ‘Happy Holidays’

Am I chosen
if I don’t want public prayer in schools

Am I chosen
if I don’t want a Christian nation

Am I chosen
if I don’t repost you on my wall
or retweet your adages?

I’m tired
being the ubermensch,
for it has not brought me
happiness
and I blame you.

I will not ignore
the cries of the suffering
believing it is I
who is destined to live
in bliss.

I will not buy
Joel Osteen’s autobiography(ies).

I will not tithe
you my money
for a megachurch
when another homeless shelter
closes down.

I will not tell a woman
what to do with her body,
or a man
that he is a man
if they say they are not.

I am neither Jew nor Gentile,
and I will stand with
my brothers and sisters
of Faith and Faithlessness,

Gay and Straight,
Black and White,

and apart from these extremes
free from absolutes
the ambiguous, amorphous
nature of Humankind
which I praise.

There is much pain and suffering
in this world,
potentially preventable,
but hardly can I believe
it’s part of your plan
to save
me.

I will not be saved
if we are not
all saved—

not one will burn
for my divinity.

The gates will be open to all—
and perhaps you believe that too,
but I’ve gotten you all wrong
and that cannot change,
as long as there is
mortality, and
corruption, and
power, and
lust, and
greed.”

God whined, growing bellicose,

“It is through me that you will find eternity,
I am the one true god!
I am the God of your fallen ancestors,
it is because you have fallen short
that you need me!”

I replied, growing in confidence,

“We have all fallen short,
yes,
but we are also magnificent.

We have evolved,
we have created,
we have adapted,
we have survived.

We have built empires,
and we have destroyed them.

We have cured diseases,
and we have created them.

We have done much in your name.
We’ve done good,
and we’ve done evil—

And unfortunately it’s all about
who you ask.

Your name is a burden on the oppressed
and a weapon of the oppressor.

You are abusive, God.

You tell me you are jealous.

You tell me apart from you I will suffer for an eternity.

I’m scared to die, yet want to die,
because of you.

You have made life a waiting room
that is now my purgatory. It is

Hell On Earth.

So you see,
it’s not you,
it’s me—
a mere mortal
who has tried to put a face
to eternity
and it has left me
empty.

And also,
it’s me,
for I have learned to love me,
as I have expelled your self-loathing imbibition,
and the deleterious zeal
I have proclaimed
through ceaseless
trepidation
and self-flagellation—

I have learned to love me
by realizing I am not inherently evil,
that my body is not evil,
that my mind is not evil,
and, ultimately, that
there is no good
and there is no evil.

My body is beautiful,
my mind is beautiful,
this world is beautiful,
and we are destroying it
waiting for you to claim
us.

I leave you
in hopes to see you
again one day,

and perhaps you will look
different than I have
perceived or imagined,

and in fact
I certainly hope so.”

Just then the waitress strolled back up
with a servile smile:
“Dessert?”

“No, thank you,”
I smiled politely.

And with that,
I paid the check,
and took a to-go box—

walked out into the evening rain
to my car,
put on a secular song
that meant something real to me
and drove off
into the night—

feeling for the first time
free
and alive.

The ghost of Freddie Gray,
rest in a shallow grave,
they say this is “The Land of The Free”,
so why they still treat us like slaves?

The current policed state of the Police State,
gives serious cause for alarm,
I Can't Breathe Hands Up Don't Shoot!
see it’s the 21st Century there’s cell phones,
so now we have proof That that young black man was unarmed…

See the situation in Ferguson,
it’s far from certain when,
conditions are worsen and,
the people are still hurtin' and,
we don't even have time to mourn,
before the police **** another one,
6 more kids killed since Michael Brown,
the problem didn't start with Ferguson.

Seriously,
it's got me thinking "What's going on?",
but I’m more Queen than Marvin Gaye,
still straight away they shot another one,
BANG,

and another one BANG,
and another one BANG,
and another one bites the dust…
BANG!

Just ask the family of Rumain Brisbon,

shot by an officer,
who mistook a bottle of pills for a gun,
the officer leaves behind two hot Glock shells,
while Brisbon leaves behind a daughter and a son,

then there's Eric Gardner,
who's ****** was caught on tape,
undercover cops strangled him to death with an illegal chokehold,
left the general public in dismay and disarray,
his only crime was selling some cigarettes,
but the cops killed him in a hurry,
this was an obvious homicide,
still no inditement by the **** Grand Jury!

So come really,
if we can't even get a single conviction,
on a single cop,
for a single shot shot without permission,
then what hope is there left to hope in,
it's as if the rope is tied around my neck and I'm chokin',
I thought to provoke a riot instead I decided to make this thought provokin',
if the pen mightier than the sword,
then we need to write a way right away to get these closed cases re-opened!

They say that just to have a driver's license is a privilege not a right,
while They make us feel like it’s a privilege just to survive in this life,
it shouldn't have to feel like a privilege just to survive,
while they're taking everything from us including our rights and our lives,
and the media tries to force us to take sides,
like I am against blacks because I'm white,
yeah cops have killed a lot of Black kids,
but that fact is that cops **** more Whites,
because it's not the color of the skin I’m in,
it's the color of the suit that one’s wearin,’
that really decides who's on who's side,
so who’s gonna live,
and who’s gonna die?

Boys in blue with a badge to **** at will,
anxiety of the All Seeing Eye on me makes me feel ill,
so much stress,
I can't take it,
I'm at home all alone,
laying in bed naked,
thoughts of dying brothers,
and crying mothers,
all done by undercover killers undercover,
they **** like ****,
where's Will.i.am,
"Where's The Love", where's the lovers?

No more Fergie,
just more Ferguson,
no more Taboo,
just more taboo killings when,
will we finally have some peace,
Jesus,
we just,
need to be free but,
they have us caught under an iron fist,
book us in and take our fingerprints,
tap our phones and put us on 'the list',
I thought this was supposed to be,
the land of the free,
but what the fck is this?
Feeling like Eric Garner I can't breathe,
just give me a bit of room please,
can't I at least,
get some groceries without the PDs harassing me?

Jeez.

Meanwhile,
back on the front lines,
it's the 4th quarter,
crunch time,

while we shout out,
“Black Lives Matter!”
they’ve got their clubs out,
like “Swing batter batter!”

while we write rhymes,
and debate the details,
they're gearing up for war,
reading our emails with a pledged allegiance to an empire of evils,

coming in like Stormtroopers,
with automatic weapons and combat boots,
and the whole time we're standing there on the Front Lines,
waiving our arms up high like, ”Hands Up, Don't Shoot!"


∆aron L∆ Lux ∆

Put me in a chokehold and press my face into goose feather
Pillows
stained with mascara tears, acid rain rolling down translucent
Cheeks
glowing and painted with rouge the color of
Fire
hot in my heart and pumping to the furthest reaches of my
Limbs
bound and held captive by smooth black ropes leaving me
Helpless
to go against your will, I am at the mercy of games we
Play
rough and don't treat me like I'm fragile I'm not meant to
Break
down barriers and ascend stairs toward the gates of
Heaven
Is found in leather and lace, cuffs, safe words and
Submission
resonates with angel wings beating as drums

She stopped breaking laws when she
started breaking hearts

Bottled tears in the vial around her neck
She lays in bed like a spider in their web

They say curiosity killed the cat but in this story
Curiosity killed you

And you love kissing her because she is not like the others
She does not pull away out of shame

She kisses hard like brick on brick on window pane
no face aflame

And you love ******* her because she does not hide away
Begs you more more more

She stopped breaking laws when she
Started breaking hearts

Every ending starts where the next beginning plays
Followed by a rush of people who hurry to be delayed
Absence makes the heart wander for those who cannot wait
For the signal to pick up lines of oblivious candidates
Self-doubt leads to blame leads to truth leads to death
It hides behind your mind to find you blindly obsessed
You don't know why it fails when then you were best
At leaving a place with another, now you're one less

Are you lost or just lonely?
You stay up all night thinking, “If only...”?
Ghosts of Desperation holding
You in a choke hold; is it warming
You all up from the inside?
Casting half-laughs staring wide-eyed
Ghosts of Self-Pity abide to reside
In that choke hold redefine pride

Why are you not happy solo?
Don't give excuses like “I'm friend-zoned”
Why put her in a choke hold?
Afraid to let go and leave her throat cold?

Get off my stool let me drink alone
No, Lady my heart is not sold
Laughing at my jokes does not make you gold
You're drunk and embittered: self-taught choke hold

Why do I feel so ******* tense?
Pasts present my present paid penance
One more drink then I'll go home
Six more to numb my damning sold soul
Liquid hubris raise my confidence
Make us all feel less incompetent
Let our veracious selves go unfold
Transgressions greet us with your choke hold

Let's frolic in our loss of breathing
We like the taste and we're not leaving
Alcoholic for this scheming
Forget your lives live like you're dreaming

In love with ideas in lieu of reality
Make us feel like we are the normality
One knight stands with armor rusting
Lusting for the din; it's rushing

Popped collar Icarus:
          Get into the choke hold
Self harmer ichor blessed:
          Get into the choke hold
Lost soul navigator:
          Get into a choke hold
Ex marks the *** for later:
          Get into a choke hold
Ice cold analyzer:
          Get into a choke hold
Wise tending ***** prescriber:
          Get into a choke hold
Fate maker pushed and pulled:
          Get into a choke hold
Let this story to be told:
          Let's get into a choke hold!

I am not going to lie anymore, it is easy to write about you.
It is a gut instinct.
It is muscle memory.
I kept the letters, the postcards.
The first one you sent is in bad shape; folded edges, crumpled body.
I almost set it on fire twelve times.
You don't understand how every night I stand outside looking at the stars
realizing that we can probably never see them at the same time.
There is nothing poetic about how we feed off of eachother.
There is nothing healthy about holding on to this.
But all I know is that when I talk to someone, I almost always say I'm sorry as a greeting.
Because nothing I ever say will be pretty anymore, I have a serpent tongue when you're gone away.
And I'm sorry that they're not you.
I will still get your words on me.  I will hold on to the pain of the ink seeping into my skin.
Forever doesn't have a fighting chance against the chokehold grip you have on my thoughts.
Instead of this train of thought, paper bodies.
Ignition.
Fire.
Think of me when the candle goes out.
Think of me when you're drunk again.
Instead of this poem, broken bottles.
Instead of this poem:
Blue sheets.  White pillows.  Your hair was never this color before.
Your poems were never about me.
Slam poetry in the way you threw my necklace in the river.
Find me waiting at the window for you to let me in.
You left the bottle open, it smells like whiskey in here.
Blue sheets but yellow flecks of sunlight and candlelight and streetlight.
The light has almost disappeared since you went away.
Instead of this poem:
Come back. Stay away.  I am fluent in ******* things up.
Fire.
Ignition.
Paper body.
Think of me when the candle goes out.

I stand alone
opposed
against all odds  
against my world
against my God
I am alive
I coexist
among city-slicks
and dolled up *****
I didn't sign for this
You can miss me with
that "calling me a victim" ****
I don't need your ******* sympathy
because I value  voice and opinions
brewing under a chokehold throat
I was taught to let em know
lay it at em cold
and most will loathe it homie

You can't conceal,
Those darkening blemishes,
Laced upon your skin.

Where's the fabricated necklace?

Was the knot too weak, too thin?

Avian slave beneath arrays of decay

Beneath the will to move on

She is so rusted and gone

Afar from quintessence crossed

Into the realm of the lost

Slipped into the clutch of the maw

Of madness it’s savage

Where the judge is the jury

Executioners laugh at the magnanimous

Everything stripped from the flesh

Nothing left to see but a dejected show in the throes of wreckage

Because these lost prophets sit upon a stolen perch looking down on a fallen goddess

A desecrated figure devoid of any promise

The primary custodian of a land forever conquered

A society gripped in the chokehold of despair

Perpetual attunement to ruin consumes a flock of sheep in the leviathan’s lair

And the pretty little songbird

Torn asunder by each verse

Learns that from her inception

She never was a free bird

Put your demons in a chokehold
And refuse them room to breathe
Let them lay doorment
In a bed more comparable to a tomb
Like they've spent years doing to you

The devils claw grips your throat.
Every word you’ve been taught
ripped and slaughtered,
stolen with your screams-
Silenced

He calls on hell to drag you down.
Pressure pins you like a board,
crushing your lifeless limbs.
Mind and body fight through dimensions,
breath weakened and weary.
Paralyzing pain and darkness
swallows you whole.

A reoccurring but distant whisper seeps
close, stinging your ears,
Ringing and possessing.
Claiming you his until sun’s birth.
For there’s no rhyme or reasoning
evil runs its own course
no barriers or rules.
The greatest force knows no form.

Justice is a *****
With claws
Miles and miles and miles
Guillotine jaws
And when she throws the book at you
It's 1000 pounds
With a curse in every clause.

And when those swords
Turn in on you
It's miles and miles of claws
To wring you out
In a razorblade chokehold you won't ever

forget.

they have my heart in a chokehold.
their rough hands mold it into shape
while I am in a deep, deep slumber.

my eyes are greeted by the sun.
the white-hot pain in my chest
knocks the wind out of me.

when silence is thick, I sculpt my heart
back into its lovely, imperfect shape,
and I let it lead the way forward.

Am I among those they write
deep in the threads of contempt?
For no one truly can be
a hero to all.

We all imagine the songs
powerful and triumphant
will someday be our own.

But what is desire?
What is the facade we wear
day in and day out
to power the most illusive masquerade?

What if the turn from my childhood
was never a turn at all?
Is it so strange, is it too far
of a line to draw
that I may be the villain?

Perhaps we're all simply searching
in desire for an adversary.
The call to arise, the call to spur us forth
from the pit too many have found as solace.

Now what if I am
not even a pawn
and barely a sheep
in life's great puzzle,
or is it a mystery
never to be solved?

I long for the moment
I'm desperate for change
I've bit the blind eye
And now I wish my own would remain shut.

So who or what is to say
that I won't snap like the thinning rope
caught in a chokehold?
My dear is the victim
and the fall is too far
to survive.

Where shall I be when
my final spin has spun?
Will I drag to a halt or
careen face-forward?
A gradual decay
or a shot to crack the wall,
either way I may merely be
the villain.

I.  
A rumble of a failing engine and an abandoned heart does not always make for the best mixed drink you’d typically order at the bar
The gasoline fumes rising towards my nostrils, the taste replicated on the taste buds, not exactly the main course you’d hope to appear on the main entrée menu
The shrinking world swallows my perception, and all I can see are endless forests with an unending road, not exactly the picturesque view you’d pick from the 5-star hotel you presumed to stay in comfortably

II.
Recurring whiplash carries me deep within the foliage of the woods, where the bristles from the furious trees feel like spikes brushing across my fragile skin
My thoughts are encompassed by my wildest fears, intensifying the pitter patter in my chest, nearing a detonation, but no witnesses to confirm or deny it
The limbs outstretch themselves and enfold me inside a hallowing clasp, resemblance of an agonizing chokehold
The fires begin slowly, but hurriedly strengthen into a sore, sweltering sensation that hastily seizes control over my nervous system, rendering me helpless with no one to soothe me from it, for isolation is the true affliction of it all

III.
And suddenly I am traveling through a dark neighborhood, the ones we were all warned about as adolescents, as the lamp posts house stood-up lovers and lost souls who are trying to catch a fresh thought aside from the filthy repetition we are provided with
The light bulbs flicker and the yellow paint dividing the two paths incases my thoughts, stimulating every sensory input to intake the detection of safety between the two opposite directions, because once a path is chosen, returning is forbidden
This social deprivation surely beholds my salient inner pain, as I cannot confide in anyone on this lonely road except for the shining Milky Way and smiling crescent moon, eons away from my reach

IV.
Foaming salt water crashes over me, encumbering my lungs from performing their simple task successfully, caught in a riptide sensing my discomfort with reality and self-hatred brought upon by the overriding waves that deteriorate my sanguinity
I cannot control anything in my life and the sea acknowledges this weakness, What a real favor it is! Killing me, for me, subduing the airflow right out of me but also purifying my corrupted being, freeing my aggressions, letting go of faulty hearts, and ensuring arcadia by ripping away a future I could not survive in
The sunken sailors in their sinking ships do not drown by choice, like I, but they may not be as grateful for the gift of release as I am
I realize I may have a shot at social encounters, until I gather that the glass wall that separates me from the world is unbreakable, and the water pressure is much too great to fight through, so I must die alone

V.
As my vision fades to black, I am awakened once again, stranded on this Earth, this place where life exists but living does not
And I feel like ever since the door slammed shut as I collapsed in cascading tears on the floor in your favorite white button down, I’ve been a bit lonesome and defunct, my mood has a constant sullen adjective attached to it
Adventure and spontaneity meant everything to you, and I took on the same attitude, breaking out of my comfort zone and implementing yours instead
What once was now lingers as a painful memory and acts as a narcotic because I am experiencing a difficult withdrawal of your voice, and I cannot last much longer before the insanity devours me from the inside out

VI.
As the hourglass passed all of the time, your personality withered as each interest you held dear to your heat contracted into an abhorrent piece of art, dedicated to miserableness
And as your presence no longer fills up my time, maybe I too am disappearing, or so I wish
Because losing you to yourself felt like being stranded in the middle of nowhere with an unceasing life of despondency and unanswered questions
It felt like being burned alive to ashes from a forest fire, so deep in that not a single person would notice its evanescence
And worst of all it felt like drowning, as my control slipped away from the tight grip I once had, like nobody could resuscitate me from
I play over every doting moment with you over in my head as my mind slowly fades to darkness, a blank state of depression

VII.
So tell me from the heavens once more that I do not need you, because you see what I am experiencing in your absence
Maybe I need you as a constant in my life and not a fleeting breeze in the persistently bipolar wind movements
But you bolted the moment the poisoned fog touched your fingertips and your fear took you away from me
So how can I possibly hold on, when I am clearly alone and depressed?
I know death is merciful compared to losing my one true love
Tell me you’re listening, I need someone to talk to
I cannot leave all these words left unspoken

For the girl who doesn't know how to say no:

I have been a version of you too many times
I have worn your body on frequent occasions
Always physically neutral, stock-still
Denying purpose into static
Eyes open
And breathing
I know exactly how it is
To not know how to refuse
Or resist when rough palms press on your skin
I know how it is
To feel there is no other option
But to lie still while eager hands pull at your body
Uninvited lips stepping into your mouth
How quickly a tongue becomes a weapon
I know it all too well
It is iron-clenched fists
It is unforgiving friction
And disintegration becomes second nature
For a girl whose limbs
Are already paper-made
Stares burned into too many white walls
A woman watching her own shadow
And the word no never escapes the vocal chords
Because there is never a question to answer to
It is assumed
That our shared pulse is enough yes
And consent is an easy thing to ignore
When it is hardly ever asked for
Men are taught to halt
Only if it is preceded by screeching
I wonder how many silent cries
Are covered by darkness and heavy breathing

This is for the girl
Who doesn't know how to say no
For the girl who chokes on her words before they can leave her lips
For the girl who freezes in uncomfortable situations
For the girl who has played mime too many times
For the girl who has been made surface to sandpaper hands
For the girl who is always vocal
But in a single instant became victim to chokehold silence

This is for you
I have been a version of you too many times
I have worn the fingerprints on your phosphorescent skin
I have pulled off your clothing after a night of detachment
I see you in every mirror I look into
Every stained glass reflection
I hear you every time he doesn't ask
It is so easy
To forget you have a voice
But I know with certainty that you do
I know
That you understand the stillness
The quiet
The hush
The absence of language
Words held hostage
You are the only one
Who bares the heaviness of night kneeling on your chest
The added weight from all those
Who have touched you without permission
I want you to know
I would carry it for you
If I could
I want you to know
It is not your fault
That your calmness
Is often mistaken for compliance
It is not your fault
That you so quickly fall paralyzed
Playing statue may seem
Like the easy way out
But you were never meant
To stand still
We are built to listen through our bones
Your voice is a million vibrations
Received through the skin
You were made
To howl our names into the ground
Until the forest shakes its trees to their death
And no one is around
To hear it.

I didn't want to put you down in writing
because then I'd have to face the truth.
(I was never good enough for you)

Too distant.
Too removed.
Or maybe I was too close;
no room.

I know.
I know.
I've been through this so many
times before.

I thought that you'd be different.
Well, I thought you wouldn't mind.
But evidently
(I am too much to handle.)
I'm back to spinning
carbon copy lies.

                        *-lf-

I woke up, bitter.
Trapped in regret
and lost in despair.
I can't think right.
I wonder where
all the good times went.
"Could you crack me a smile,"
she said, with eyes
like a whirlwind,
drawing me in.
I'm intrigued,
but I'm just
not happy anymore.

Thinking back to
summer days.
Getting back to
my old ways.
Seeing the smiles
in my mind only
bring me tears
this time.
Who am I to judge?
Who are you to
drink my blood
and eat my flesh?
I'm no saviour.
Though I've been
crucified for your pain
and for your pleasure.

I'm twisted up
on the inside.
So trapped in my
thoughts that I've
lost my mind.
I'm blind
and I can't see
the end of this
tunnel of misery.
All I have is questions
and the answers are
lost somewhere on
the tip of my tongue.
I can't breathe,
the air is too thick.
Life's smoke cloud
has finally choked
the hope right out of me.

when brother sings he sounds like church bells.
when you sing you sound like the dark circles that rim my eyes.
today we are all drunk & today it is raining & today my father
is calling everything beautiful, then yelling at me.

it's like we're playing ring-around-the-rosy all over again, standing
& circling on dirt roads outside of white houses covered in pink flowers.
we're three years old & so far nobody has died.

Love, such a big word
Creeping for years around
With presumptions of its meaning
Floating around
With emotions far from disjoint
In a flurry
Through your body, mind
Momentarily present
Yet timelessly thrown
Into your toddler meaning of love
From your empty Bayesian trap
That builds you whole
Until your end you've met

So many different versions
Certainty will never be met
Yet trapped in a single word
It doesn't do it justice
But that just might be alright
For love
Is not meant to be spoken

You start out in a fairy
Unscathed from reality
Especially
After a mother's love
You think the world is kind
Without a mother's love
It's cold but you still have hope

You throw your youth outside
Into the gust of eyes
Where you catch a glimpse
Of a girl or a guy
That makes your blood boil
And you're still flying
Throw all your *****
Without thinking of dying
And no matter if it lasts a moment
A reciprocated month
Or an unrequited year
You come out shattered
Reality didn't care
Nothing after mattered

But there you didn't know
That that guy or girl
Is a girl or guy too
You're not the only one
There's everyone else too
Your initial lust
Or a try at a shell of love
Is selfish at base
How ever much
Your emotions
Pointed else

But that did pass
And the several next throws too
Whether months or years
Summer or winter or summer
A cloud followed you there
The cloud carrying
Your void of attention
However big or small
Your loneliness sharp
Whether seconds long or
Weeks on end, quiet yet loud
Your need to be loved,
Recognized, understood,
To be acknowledged present
To be accepted, alive
By a person
Rattling your lust

However above,
In the cloud where you placed
Every next spike of passion
Of a guy or a girl
As bright as the sun,
For the moment
Their face on the idol shone bright
Following your daily life around
And with every next crack
Of reality's peckered constant tap
Your idol cracks
It falls down
Thunders,
Your heart it smacks
The sunshine is over
Your cloud is empty again
The idol faceless remains,
Yet follows you still

Time on end,
Time,
Time, it goes blank
Faceless the oddity remains
Your concept of love
From solid, to liquid, to the cloud
It migrates - shapeless, formless,
Horrid, repulsive, addictive, banished
Away
But hey
But hey!
There
Another glimpse
Lights your fire
Puts on a face
Energizes into matter
The shapeless concept, of love
Quicker than an arrow
Throws down its mollusc, fiery and sparkly
Tentacles, now into form
Grabbing your whole body
Obsesses, possesses
Choking your insides
Paralyzing you whole
"Oh hey
Hi
It's you
I liked a thing you did
How you look
A thing you said
You formed into my eyes
And now you're in my head
And oh
That thing you did, how you look, what you said
Repeats every day for you
Wow
I want that"
Paralyzed there you stand
Seconds you shared turn into hours
Time stretches
Your mediocrity devours
But wait a second
This world of yours ain't the realm we live in
That person is its own
With all the background it comes with
As heavy as your own
Much richer than your conception current
And not richer than the sunshine you imagine
But in reality that person weighs
However uglier the truth it makes
However much real hurt
To your table brings
An amalgam of truth and desire
You idol feeds

You go home
Maybe you create
Something out there
Portraying
As a proof of your time
Spent in that oily chokehold
No matter if you get close to that person
Or not
No matter how much time is spent
How much sunshine you think you got
You'll learn your idol
He or she, is not
Your concept of love
Still selfish
Putrid

But maybe
Just maybe
A random person walks in
A friend
Of mutual ****** preference
Of course
Someone you'd not write poems about
Someone you'd not draw in your thoughts
Someone your lust smolders at best at first
Someone that sticks by your side
Someone your idol accepts not
While there your idol
Faceless or not
Slowly fades away
Your voids are filled
By giving
And having being given in return
Equally self-less
Your base is solid now
Out of the dead molusc
Your meaning of love,
Bam!
With the speed of a supernova
With the frequency of a pulsar
With the density of a white dwarf
Blasts into you like a shockwave
Lights into you like a furnace
Is finally thrown into your Bayesian experiment
A meaningful, concrete test case
That you can rethrow however much again
And even if you reach its last throw
You've learned to self-lessly accept
Whatever comes next
For it's grown on you
And it'll never leave your side, till your end
And your model now knows
Where true warmth lies
Even if the coming days
Shiver in the void's cold grasp
Remember
Remember the light

For it has once grown on you
In its countless shapes and forms
Real, true love

Let's hope
For nothing does truly last

Sometimes I get so angry
intangibly angry,
like a child,
and I don't know
what to do with it all
so I drink and I shout,
say that I'm better
without you,
wake up in the morning
and swear up and down
to stop writing about you.

I dream sometimes
that you come back to me
with apology on your lips

it kisses away
the hurt, the regret
and we go back to the start

I usually wake up
sweating, weeping
telling myself,

over and over
that I don't want you
anymore.

rain drips from the dead limbs of trees & i think about those old monsoons. the road trip was dead silent this time. those two years were a storm. he said we're going back home, i said my body's tired of making homes out of empty houses. my final house with him was drafty & small. i'm moving out but i'm done trying to find home. all i remember was how his chokehold blossomed into warm embrace.

it all starts to blur together and every day fades further from the horizon.
every word uttered, every smile grinned, every surface touched
falls short from the whole when not lead back to you.
I haven't recognized my name since it was last spoken from your mouth.
I haven't let my hands float above the sunroof as I've traveled down each lonely highway, stretching farther away from you.
I haven't exhaled all the air in my lungs or been able to relax all the tension in my muscles from their constant preparation for the crash-
waiting on standby only makes the blow more painful.
I haven't been able to swim in the ocean without feeling your love.
you're like a tide, pulling me back and shooting me out again, crashing over my body with immense pressure, yet so soothing- coating every cell on my body with liquid- you pour over me and drown me whole.
I haven't been able to sleep the same.  
Every time they ask me how I'm doing or if I still love you, I mutter about the "not enoughness" and the lack of, while staring at my hands, trying to retrace the last time i ate a full meal or fell asleep for more than three hours.
The one thing I run back to kills me like a bullet, firing all the way through:
The smoke in my lungs mimics the breathlessness I felt when you choked my throat
It's turning me to ashes,  
but I choose to not get better.
There's some correlation between the way your existence has haunted me like a ghost,
Sticking to my skin like all this inhaled smoke,
Demanding for the light to be left on in case you wander from the unknown-
Back to your garden, your chokehold, your throne.

I was walking down a dirt path
Deep within a great forest
The trees laid bare by Winters chokehold
The background varying shades of gray,
It was a dreary day

I stopped on a cliff face above a river
And sat on the edge of it's furthest point
And stared between the trees into the early morning sun
Coloring the horizon burnt orange
With the silhouettes of branches swaying in ballet

This was it.
I'd found it
The most perfect spot in the world
to be alone
This cliff a shrine of inner monologues and meditation

I have laid my soul here
This forest and I are one
Everything is connected, a system
Inhale, 1, 2, 3, 4
*Exhale

The truth about school
By: Dono James

In spite of my learning I feel like a fool
For it took me so long to learn the truth about school
You don’t know how it goes? You don’t know the rules?
Then let me tell you my version of the truth about school
From my days in pre-k to my completion of college
I was told by society I was obtaining knowledge
But from what I have been through and what I can see
My convictions tell me that I must disagree
I admit in my youth not interacting with people
Which was all the more reason I saw school as evil
But as I matured and became more social
It was more of a process and less of a chokehold
Then my years in high school were somewhat a coma
Where I didn’t really learn but filled up a quota
But with flying colors my diploma was earned
And I looked forward to college to actually learn
To start my life over I was truly excited
After my first year I felt somewhat enlightened
But in spite of my joy I needed a pause
For I came to notice there were still a few flaws
Not really a flaw, but a legitimate scam
A plot to take money away of my hand
Conceiving to deceive us whenever they choose
Charging hundreds of dollars for books that aren’t used
Even worse than that is the ugliest case
The time spent on a degree in the first place
In spite of our major to earn our degree
We’re forced to take classes we really don’t need
And their justification, at which I’m dumbfounded
They say that they want us to be well rounded
But in spite of its faults I kept my head in the air
Because college here is still better than high school there
The flaw in that logic showed not after long
When it showed for the most part I truly was wrong
Being in school for almost as long as alive
I’ve been doing the same thing since I was about five
Waking up in the morning and wasting the day
Listening to jibberish someone has to say
This procedure is twisted and far from anointed
If that’s the best way to learn then I’m disappointed
But I was told school would increase how much I get paid
So I’m not here to learn I’m just here for a grade
And once my time finishes, what do I see?
A fancy piece of paper they call a degree
Yet in spite of the struggle of putting many years in it
I would not so much as wipe my rear with it
The bane of my existence and the source of my strife
I could do without school for the rest of my life
Having stood it so long I hope not to stand more
I hate all that school is and all it stands for
Being barely a step above pure embezzlement
It’s the greatest façade of human development
So if I go past a bachelor’s let the world be a witness
My reason for going was strictly ‘bout business
As in my observation the truth has unfurled
Real learning occurs with time in the real world
And with that being said I can soundly assert this
Education is priceless but academia is worthless
In fact the thing that disgusts me the most in particular
Is that I might have learned more through my extracurriculars
But this sick institution had me worried and stressed
Oppressed by the papers and distracted by the tests
To compare school to work is truly a fallacy
For in all ways it puts us out of touch with reality
Where the number 4 is that which everyone dreams
And five letters mean so much to our self esteem
For others in the struggle the burden may be small
But for my own preference I am sick of it all
My soul is disgruntled and my mind is distorted
Involved in a cause that I never supported
But having graduated I can finally move on
And get a job in the real world where I truly belong
my wounds will soon heal and everything will be cool
for at least now you know the truth about school

James...
My past
Luke....
To popular crowd...
Insecurity
Sexuality...
Past coming for the ****
...but me allowing it in
...it's coming pretty hard and hella obvi
But I...
Who has been called a ****
And laughed along with the bully
....has allowed the world to eat her alive
And knows what she knows now
...that our world isn't so narrow and small
...that I have a way out
I refuse to return from whence I came
Today is a new day
Right now is a fresh moment
But is my mind ready...
Question I ask?
Most importantly...
Am I ready and do I want....
Cuz if the beholder doesn't feel or do
Thoughts and words are pointless

Hands wrapped around my throat
      like a bow
A gift to the present times.

Am I pretty enough in this
      chokehold?
Squeeze my throat until I fall in line.