Torn was the fabric of our
painful pasts.

torn by shots fired from heart
to heart, ricocheting between

bruises and disappointments,
then wedging themselves between

ribs, to rest and incapsulate.
I run my asking fingers across

your entry wound.
we did this to ourselves.

torn to pieces, the drapes between
us and The Holiest of Heavens.

let us never cease fire.
empty your every clip;

beautiful, beautiful
bullets.

i cant stop writing about you
my fingers are burnt by a storm of you
not one word
one phrase
one paragraph
or one poem
could incapsulate
how i feel
the words that exist
just dont comprehend
how i feel
i will make words
i will make phrases
i will make paragraphs of a language only you and i can understand in a font unimaginable by the human brain
a language from the heart
so darling
until each memory of us is put to paper
i will not stop writing
and ****
i just cant stop writing about you

how can you know a feeling
if you've never felt it before

realizing that
it has finally absorbed into my pores
overthrown my body
and taken up residence
in the oceanic depths
the Marianas Trench of my heart
now holding the reins
a nameless shadow living in my chest cavity
and eating away at the resolve
that has shackled me
and driven me on slick black asphalt
into palpable darkness of
a world i've never seen

how can you feel
when you don't have words

holding a dictionary to my heart
and praying to the gods
Merriam
Webster
to provide me with the
mixture of letters that might
shatter my muteness
and provide
permutations of syllables to
intercede for me
and finally give me
a label for those ephemeral tendrils
i feel protruding from me
and reaching
reaching
for you

how can i use a word
that is merely ink on a page
when this inundation
has flooded the streets of
my hometown
swept me away
and the only anchor i can find
is the chocolate profundity
of your eyes
that you lower in
what is that emotion
another word without meaning
that lives more as a
crushing pressure
grinding my bones to dust
shrinking me to a singular point in space
and time

time

you tell me to go slow
slow down
but how can i when my foot
is glued to the accelerator
and i am driving full force
into the brick wall of
more emotions i can't
touch

always just out of my
groping hands
calling your name and
the only word i have found
that seems to incapsulate
this churning rapacious feeling and
exquisite pain that
needs simply a word to
help you understand
because you can't feel what i feel
though i would allow you
to vagabond through my cerebellum
and maybe spend a night
in the absolute obsidian night
of my cerebrum
where that unnameable emotion
is the only thing
that can keep me warm

i'm an alien without country
without language to
communicate with this foreign world
where i have latched on
to you
your remora
for you most certainly are a shark
circling your prey
and i wait to be devoured

i welcome your destruction
the fires that rage from
the tips of your fingers
as they trace the lines of my
enemy body
ready to explode with
that emotion you urge me
to put away
to repress
and wait for another day
to inform you that
i love you
even if you don't love me back.

Does Hope cause immunity?

The trees breathing vapor
Exhalt against the forest skyline
Intangible matter, dense, blends the cold
Condensing, Gathering
up from the ground;
the edges of a silken cloth.

This time of year is Dampness,
the heat dissipates and
drops the flower petals' clammy tissues
Roiling shades of ochre.

This time of year
Seeds are Summer Dreams incapsulate, Breaking free, drifting overhead
Gone, forgotten--
Rust that smells like blood
blooms over the countryside.

A second glance back--
Barren are the bones of winter.

to scorpios all days are multitudes
so long a one-man-feast

it's all good it's all good it's all good i
am driving too far and too fast
it's alright it's alright it's all true everything you say is true even the lies are true insofar as
they incapsulate your face
a chair a back stand to community a hooray for individuals and duels

it is really good to know me truly
like something ethereal; that escapes quickly

divine pleasure
i can season to you every
and push me pull you
slurping stupid purple brain worms
they crawl next to dead spider carcasses
god shoots the food i don't blame anyone

I awoke to shed water, then back again to bed with my fuzzy relief
drooping from my sleepy mug. I coughed into a jar of night bees-
laying siege to my most pedestrian pillow.
my beleaguered strides catheter the stream of my unconsciousness
to a far shore where my pets never die and I have you -
to talk too, or glory bang the void with our impetuous existence.
as the gift that keeps on giving us a hard time-
oozes from the lemniscate of Our rim. As poetry malingers unabated-
like a sovereign cadaver in a hall of-
shy mirrors…

I awoke Out of Bounds.
like a native of Null Space.

looked up from a womb of empirical alarm
to fetch the farthest things my Grasp
could ever Believe.

I tunnel where the Morning is spent on the Midnight Dreary
and emerge, incapsulate of no Fate
but my Own.