I breathe in this silence that is not
Silenced,
Air alive with heartbeats and
Clocks ticking too slow,
Eyes meeting over
Sticky plastic tables,
Snapping away like an awkward blind date,
Fingertips drumming impatiently.
Wait.
Calm.
Be patient.
Tick...tock........tick...............tock

I can't, I won't, my son laying
One floor, 3 hallways, 12 rooms away,
But we are relegated to the hospital cafeteria as if my husband and I are naughty schoolchildren,
Interfering.
My red shirt crumples beneath
Nervous fingers,
The same shade as the blood given
To my son, not knowing it contained
Death.
Why can't I fight with my son,
My son,
Shining brightly and boldly as the sun,
Infected with a blood-borne killer we were never warned about.
Hemophilia is a tough diagnosis,
But my careful worrying wasn't enough to save him from a
Diagnosis of ostracism and certain death.
AIDS.
Oh God.
Breathe.
Can't breathe.
Time moves too fast, my son racing towards eternity
Alone.


White sheets and sterile beds rob
My son of all his sunshine,
Lips blue and pale like my husband's jacket,
Nothing but incessant beeping and bustling nurses who can't fix him,
Clock going tick, tock, tick, tock.
I see red.
Red dripping into and out of his arms through silver needles,
How do I know that this is safe,
No one knows if this is safe,
This is our only hope.


Tick..tock.....tick........tock.
White coat of the doctor moving too quickly towards us,
We run.
My heart thumping red and my stomach yellow bile and my eyes leaking blue.
Hospital room not room enough for all my emotions,
All of my tears,
All of my grief,
All his last breaths.
My son.
No longer my sunshine,
Just a pale winter afternoon,
No sun beneath cold sheets of snow.
My son.

Time moves too slow when everyone wears black,
Like molasses dripping from a jar into
Metallic air and earthy graves.
Like ash clouding out the sun.
My son.
No more my sun.

script on screen life is but a dream a b c d e f g gee **** g-chord ******  geezz script on screen row row your boat h i j k ellemenoh *** oh please baby *** for me let me watch you stream merrily merrily merrily script on screen q arrest tee you vee double you x why zee

last night i watched a woman answering questions about ***** size she spoke about the toilet tissue roll test for years i’ve been thinking my ***** is rather undersized (compared to studs on **** sites) this morning i took the test undid the roll from wall and stuck my ******* in the hole at first i had trouble getting it in so i guess my thickness is healthy then i slowly managed to shove the entire head of my **** out the other end by that time clear pre-*** was dripping from my ***** hole pressure from my hand gripping tissue roll felt surprisingly arousing i began ******* the roll squeezing pushing in deeper jerking almost bringing myself to ****** i passed the test the toilet tissue roll appears kind of twisted indented

what will happen next hoping for heartbreaking story with happy ending man masturbates while woman urinates both watch each other intently what is so fascinating

Asheville is small yet monumental by luck or fate he hooks up with Tim Calaprese a gregarious loving soul Tim loves women and wine and dogs particularly Farina he owns a beat up old house on steep hill overlooking downtown Asheville Odysseus rents a room for $200. a month Tim is a wine salesman and gone much of the time Odysseus is critically destitute he goes to Salvation Army they provide bed-sheets towels he sells tent and camping equipment to hippies on Haywood Street for several weeks he and Farina live on convenience store hotdogs he gets job prepping house exterior to be painted his boss tells him he is a good worker after a hard day’s work the boss lays him off he gets hired as a waiter for the dinner shift in the restaurant of a resort hotel he is weary of waiting tables but needs cash in the mornings he takes Farina to ****** Lake to swim then they go back to house paint on the porch many mornings are overcast with fog around noon sun comes out warms afternoon Odysseus loves Blue Ridge Mountains he paints a series of mountain scapes while listening continuously to Palace Brothers Pearl Jam Pavement Sebadoh Steve Earle occasionally he works on story about the clone sometime in 90’s DNA has become a factor and he needs to incorporate detail into story

on stormy afternoon in July as thunder echoes through Blue Ridge Mountains phone rings Odysseus is suffering from severe attack of food poisoning it is difficult to reach receiver phone keeps ringing it is Penelope her voice sounds shaky she says doctors have diagnosed her with leukemia it is startling shock she is only 43 years old his stomach rips he needs to run back to toilet telephone cord is not long enough Penelope says it is urgent Odysseus return to Chicago to see if he can be bone marrow match for her he tells her he will drive up immediately after food poisoning passes Penelope becomes irritable he can feel himself leaking between his legs hangs up immediately runs to toilet spends most of night in bathroom brief naps in bed in the morning he hears someone knocking at door he does not know who it is he cannot leave toilet he hears footsteps enter house call his name Odysseus are you there where are you it is Penelope and Sean he flushes toilet comes out to greet them what a weird surprise why didn’t you think to give me some notice he questions as he lies down on bed Penelope and Sean want to take Odysseus to hospital he tells them they are overreacting food poisoning will soon work its way out of his system Penelope asks if there is anything she can do Odysseus answers Farina hasn’t been out for a good walk in days Please be an angel and take her up the street there’s a field there she likes Penelope calls come here Farina let’s go for a walk Farina follows they depart out door Sean sits down at foot of bed he forcefully speaks Odysseus i know you you like to skew the facts to fit your own purposes then hammer me for whatever make-believe you can cook up when are you going to finally start being a man live up to your responsibilities Odysseus questions what facts are you talking about i’m sick as a dog now is not the time to have this talk Sean challenges yes it is you listen to me your sister is sick and needs your help Odysseus replies i’m heading to Chicago as soon as i’m well enough to travel Sean insists that’s not soon enough we’re taking you to a hospital Odysseus stands from bed Sean stands up facing him they stare each other down Odysseus goes to slip on jeans Sean stands in the way Odysseus tries to step around Sean shoves Odysseus back unto bed Odysseus stands shoves back fistfight ensues mostly Odysseus throws wild punches Sean blocks as they violently jostle out door Sean trips on wet porch falls breaks rib Odysseus grabs his pants car keys flees Penelope and Farina watch puzzled as he drives off day after incident and departure of Penelope and Sean Mom calls insists Odysseus return without delay to Chicago he answers i’m on my way Odysseus packs car with Farina drives north he feels pressure of his family envisions himself as piece of living meat whose sole purpose is to supply Penelope with bone marrow momentarily imagines his family as predators Mom is the real killer she knows how to delegate ****** Dad had been a killer for Mom Penelope has learned from Mom how to contend Odysseus is weak link he taught himself to brave harshest conditions yet is no competitor he is worker bee stupid dreamer all alone in greedy predatory world more than anything he loves and wants to help Penelope he is annoyed by nervous tension of family

settling down and out
an uncomfortable atmosphere
draining from above
dripping onto oddly shaped benches
and the people among them

amongst quiet faces
i slowly feel this somber rain
drench all souls
and glaze over our eyes

black and red
dominating the colors
accenting the wet wood
and matching this silence

voices, words, memories
fight the grieving pupils
forcing them to join the air overhead
leaking a most potent substance

aching from the hard lumber
pushing toward my spine
joining the window planes and
man sleeping peacefully
i coat my eyes clear
and connect the tears

"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love." - 1 John 4:18

a maladjusted little minstrel, rage focused in the pinnacle
least invincible principle of my environment, so biblical
i'm re-tired of rituals habitual to introducing individuals
like our voices and choices and self-importance, all cyclical
i wonder

does your infallible tongue feel hungry and porous
like your short lived torpid fond memory abhorrence
the inorganic and unfactual that actually came before us
dissident power of your ****** diction in a chorus

coughing on insincerities meant to be favoring,
listen to yourself giving your secrets away, wavering
like a white bible page ripped from the spine of glue on your mouth,
a risky display of leaking doubt, you gave out,
disobeying social conventions and being made prey
******* sick of everything being so **** blasee
you keep forgetting we all rust when it pours this way

you’ve got infectious dictionaries of fiction
fidgeting with the insecurity ignition
telling you what you're missing when you don't stop and listen
and these thesauruses can’t arm you with the proper vowel consonant friction
to out-enamor their derision when you pout as you fit the description,
constricted by eviction, waiting for the jurisdiction
never completely comfortable in someone else's kitchen
something's always a little bit different
they take your bewilderment for ignorance

and hey i wish you would scream and shout
but instead you just keep playing cards now
wish you’d unlock but it stops between your lips slow scowl
swallowing your tongue, the key, he cut out when you kissed
you left it in a public bathroom, it fell into boston's abyss
it's not hateful but afraid, to let it out, ‘kid’
afraid the words would fit like a slit smile on a spit
afraid that they would flow, just ******* like this

an unspoken conviction for viscious fulfillments
and dereliction of indiscriminate sauve depictions of riches
of addictions to ******* philanthropist princesses,
and affinities for infinitely angering insistence
what she represses expected on the table in an instant

you say poet as if it means perfect
when i know enough people with the bruises to show it
to realize it really means nervous
and i have nothing to show you see,
except the mosquiteos who ****** my blood
and would be delighted to tell you
what lovely ugly things they know about me

I've just been staring at my journal lately
Words don't come in waves like they used to
Tidal waves that took days to process
And ten poems to get through
Maybe its just the clearing of negativity
Or maybe its just my depression taking over again
I write in drops now
The drips of a leaking faucet
You can't water a garden with drips and drops
You can't harvest words that haven't grown yet

I can't anymore
It's worth the time
The effort of making you smile
But how long do I have to love you
Just for you to realize
I'm not always going to be there
I'll leave your side eventually
Even if I don't want to
You've plagued my mind
With frowns and scars
Still leaking a velvet substance
Remember I told you I love you?
I'm sorry but my heart is dead
Murdered by the tyranny of my mind
Telling me I'm useless
That the love I have for you is meaningless
I can't fight wars that I'm too weak to battle
I can't go to war
Without the thought that I'm fighting for nothing
No chance is given
To love you for all eternity
I don't want to be the foundation
Of a vacant house
I want to be the utilities
Required to keep it alive
I want to be the fire in the chimney
The water used for your showers
The electricity for you to read my poems
The ones I wrote about you
But I guess loving you
Became so much of an obsession
I forgot why I loved you in the first place
Yet I'd rather just love you
Than know the reasons
My love shouldn't have a limit
But I'm limited every time
You don't pick up the phone
Or every time you don't pay the bill
I can't love somebody
Who doesn't want to give living another try
I've died twice because of you
I've lived a century for you
I can't do it any more
The beams in this supporting this housed flesh
Is growing weak
Though my fire still burns
Trying to keep you warm
I'll smolder in the past
As you walk away from this house
And find something better
Something of modern innocence
Remember I told you I love you?
I just seem to weak to that anymore

Coffee stains and cigarette butts
I've found good company on the frame of a couch.
Everyone else sleeps while I reach the bottom of my broken mug.
It's funny how often I find myself at the bottom.
It's rainy in Portland.
Just as expected.
There's a girl much more beautiful than me
Half asleep
Half dead
Dying
In between sheets of complacency.
She is delicate and sometimes
I worry that her cotton sheets will scrape the skin right off her bones. .
I've waited three days for the sky to stop leaking,
I've waited three days for the clouds to mend themselves like I've had to my entire life
But no amount of brushing under the rug will suffice this time.
I think about where I am
And how these hands belong to me.
They're small and rough and
They've touched too many things.
I am nowhere and the tiniest accident.
I think about the planets and I think about the dead stars stuck underneath my skin
Waiting to break the thick surface
And reach other galaxies.
I get carried away and slip into Jupiter,
It's red storms and galactic dust burying me beneath mountains star things just like me.
There is a girl much more beautiful than me
Half asleep
Half dead
Dying
In between sheets of complacency.
She talks about losing her belly button
And the secrets I have to keep.

TO BOLDLY GO

Hour by hour
the snow

grew heavier and heav...i...ER
grew more and more

daring
deciding to boldly go

where no snow
had ever gone before!

It had listened to an entire
box set of early Star Trek

leaking from
the house's windows.

It knew it
off by heart

admired Kirk
adored Spock.

The snow pushed the door
ten-ta-tivel-y ope:N

at first, but. . .now that
push had come to shove

( the latch had not been
latched properly)

opted to" "Wot de. . !"
go for it.

"That's one small step
for a snowflake...one big step

...for snowkind!"
it chuckled hee hee to it self.

"Yavaş. . .yavaş"
it repeated slowly slowly.

It was Turkish snow.

The snow advanced
flake by flake

just putting one flurry
in front of the other

into the( gasp )
"Oh mother!"

living room!

"So, this...
is how humans

- live?"

The bookshelves
feeling a little chilly

woke and whimpered
"Oh my pages...oh...my pages!"

as the unrelenting whiteness
crept nearer and:

- nearer.

"Where is a reader when
you really need one!"

asked a newly acquired
Saito Masaya.

"Isn't anyone gonna do
anything about this!"

screamed the Poems of Oktay
Rifat.

The Poems of Nazim
Hikmet

were...were...were
speechless!

But the humans were busy
snoring.

A string of cartoon Z's
like Christmas decorations

emanated from
the room of the bed.

Even the guilty one
( who would catch hell

in the huh huh morning )
slept the sleep of the innocent

since the Star Trek
had been watched all

the way through and
love had been drunkenly made.

The snow a little
nervous now

in case the book's readers
would come to their rescue

wet
the carpet.

"Oh my giddy flakes...no
but when ya gotta

go ya gotta gooooo!"
smirked the snow.

A mobile phone
asleep on the sofa

heard voices ringing
in its head

suddenly woke
spoke

in a disembodied voice
that went - straight to message.

"Wow...you guys...wow
you should see outside

...it's...like
crazy awesome!"

The snow( held
its breath): "Oh oh...

...an informer!"

It felt like the fallen
book by the carpet's edge

A Spy In The House
Of Love.

It didn't know what
an Anaïs Nin

could be.

It had a lot
to learn.

But the phone
slipped into sleep again

voiceless now.

In the morning they
found it.

"Holy cow...how...?"

Each of the humans
blaming the other

more especially
the guilty human .

"Your mother....
...don't bring my mother into this."

Neither of them spoke to the other
for the rest of the day.

The snow lay
curled up

in the fireplace
dead to the world

fast fast
asleep

drunk on the success
of its excess

dreaming that it had become
human.

A balloon clung
to the ceiling

didn't know how
to get down somehow.

The snow played
possum.

It took an hour
to evict it

with shovels and
curses.

Later, the snow
told the snow

that had been too
afraid to come in

all it had seen
all it had been.

"No...?" said the bottom-
of-the garden snow.

". . .no?"

What if this is me, losing my love?
What if this is my love being taken from me, kidnapped and ransomed and I don't have enough energy in my body to pay up?

Saturdays were her favorite.  She'd watch cartoons in the morning and play with paper dolls in the afternoon.  She made sure all the paper dolls had another doll to love them, a perfect match of brown eyes, cute smiles, light hair.

Where have you gone? I barely recognize you anymore.  How can I make you look new if all you ever do is sit in the corner like an old doll?  You're fragile, you're breakable.  I don't like what you've become and quite frankly, you're scaring me.  Stay over there, don't come close.  Tell me why your eyes are glazed over like that, tell me why your hair is coming out in patches and why your full pink smile has turned into a thin white line.  You were my best friend, you were my sister, you were my little Kelly.*

Sometimes she would watch the people that walked by.  She would choose names for each person and pick one individual out, imagining what their reaction would be to her saying, "I love you, will you run away with me?"

Come back, please.  When you started fading I thought it was because you had been in the sun too long, I thought it was because you hadn't had any food in some time.  Our tea parties became rare occurrences and you were always sleeping.  Come back, little Kelly.

One day she woke up with an energy made of something she couldn't measure.  Not joules, not electron volts, not anything she could quantize.  It wasn't the caffeine and it wasn't the 7 hours of sleep the night prior.  She woke up in love.

I've been trying to sell our house for two and a half years and it just won't sell.  You're poisoning this house, my old friend.  You need to leave, you need to be buried in the backyard, with the puppy we adopted and the bunny I hit with the truck when I was 17.  You need to get out of my house now.  We're both much too old to play together, and you never seemed to understand that I had to move on.

Her trouble was that she woke up in love with one stranger too many.  She's lied so many times that she doesn't trust herself anymore.  Make her decisions for her, she's not a fit mother to these poisonous ideas she is fostering in her head.  Don't allow her to choose her future.

Kelly, don't you see, I don't love you the way I used to.  Kelly, you need to go.  A family is stopping by this afternoon to take a tour of the house and you need to be swept out of the attic by then.  Pack your things.  Take your cracked glasses and your grey shoes.  I'm too old to be a part of your family now.

--

She sees a hint of what she fell in love with.  His eyes are downcast, his fingers strumming and thrumming her love songs without words, his mouth twitching with thoughts he can't seem to string into sentences.  He is a beautiful child again.

Sing me songs even chickadees don't know, strum me the most beautiful lullaby.  Take a picture of this moment- bottle it.
  
She loves the hint of a smile when he catches her staring at his lips instead of the neck of his guitar, when he realizes she is in maddening, chaotic love.

And some days you're just a friend.  I see you leaking from your life, straight out of your backyard.  And sometimes you mean nothing.  I see you standing alone on your deck, sitting on your cement paradise like it's your imaginary god.  Keep yourself in check.  You won't be getting any more kisses tonight, I can't – I can't let you be the one to make up my mind.
  
She can barely remember the days of being alone, of being unable to tell anyone about her scars shrouding her hips and her head that hung heavy.

Today was a fever, a fog of anger.  I want to make you hate me, I want you to leave.  Save your lies and excuses for someone else, I don't want to hear them. I hope the fog can creep in my ears and into my brain.  I want it to make me forget everything about you.  I'm sure I'd be happier.  Maybe if the fog can erase my memories, I can finally stop crying.  Maybe I can stop trying to prove I want to die.  Let me **** myself, let me go.  You're smoke in the wind and you're fading with every breath I take.

Sophomore year of high school was the most difficult time of her life.  Fortunately for her, she met you that winter.  You made her smile, you made her laugh. She found a boy whose blue eyes and long brown hair complimented her own. Her paper doll dream come true, you loved her as she was.

You are smog.  Your face is no longer a child of summer, your hair has gotten long and tangled.  Your eyes are clouded, and you are fading, slipping from my fingers.  As your soul dies in my arms, as I try to save you, you steal my breath, grab at my lungs, take what is keeping me alive.  What is there to fix, and can it be put back together again? L-o-v-e is only four letters long, but then again, so is your name, and god knows that doesn't mean anything to me anymore.

--

His back was straight and his stomach was soft.  The hollow of his collar bone and hip bone spelled her name in 12 point font kisses.  Her breath came out in gasps and he shivered from the thought of being able to coax such unfamiliar passion from her lips.

You are the night.  You are the wind in my dreams and the birds in my hair.  Lift me higher, I want no control.  I want to see the tops of buildings above the low level clouds; the spires piercing the sky like needles piercing my flesh.

The feeling doesn't wear away.  Days have passed and they still long for each other.  Their bodies feel the urge to be near, to be touching.

*Let us set sail on the tunes of summer, of air conditioners and scratchy radios.  Let us sail away from this life.

There, she lies on the altar
Almost held the sun she—
almost in her hands
Opened up, a rose-bud chaste
petal by petal by blood, with
a sting, so sweet and sweet, as
sunset reborn a bee; she was
gold and silver and black at once.

Almost held the sun she—
and no wax wings used
Oh, Icarus, love you did a wild sky,
— yourself a light-licked doom  
as your father cried,
Your father cried for you.
A veil as simple sour starlight she wore
as wings of wasps as beetles she giggled

Icarus, flew that you
—and with tongue-tied elation too
Icarus,
she rambled on for hours long.
A letter she held in spring kissed hands
—I will wed you to the sun, her father had sworn.
The sun—and a sun he was,
child of the sea, some sword in honey
dipped; now her awaiting.
And blushed she did herself a dawn

The altar, on the altar.
Almost held the sun she—
Swallowed a mayhem for the father's sin.
Icarus, tell me of the plummet.
Tell me of the greens you saw,
of blues, of whites, of the whirling world—
Men go around around her
their soles all ready
to crush lost skulls an empty moor.

Twirling,
the dust, like may have her hair
before the wedding day
Strands and strands, gently styled—

Spears, swords, rubbed to mirrors,
to lakes lifeless
Armors and ships laden with life, with
sails, the fluttering doves;
As the winds dance once more—
as harbors vacated, as waves torn apart for the horde, as move they on— on too the sun— as
She still lies.

Icarus, Icarus, was it the ocean
that cupped its palms, or did the soil cave in
as down into dark's slick throat you slid?
Surely, was soft, the sea's well-loved mouth,
Surely soft or true

She lies on the altar
a trinket glossy on a hoof, a ****** in the bell,
how does one say—
the valley of lilies, she grew it inside.
Spilled out on the stones, they are fed
to the flies.
Almost held the sun she—
Icarus, must you know

You did not sleep a wretched silence
within the womb of war.
No crescent blades you drank down a leaking throat—
She lies on the altar, vanquished for moon
— for metal upon bone
for blood, for blood, for blood.

A father’s green promise—
Seasoned to rust before the king
Icarus, on the altar she lies—
a ripened land far, far away lures her king
to another rosy worship.
Icarus, Icarus,
on the altar

I fall in and out of love with
Every passing stranger on crooked sidewalks,
Every boy with a guitar and a broken heart,
Every man who weeps and begs for the graze of my fingertips,
Every woman with lost eyes and the spirit of a lioness,
Every stranger in
Every city, new or old, in
Every coffeeshop with clinking cups and sunshine leaking through the windows, at
Every party met with awkward glances,
Everywhere.

Wonder how they came up ahead of me… she’d been leaking information to the enemy. A double agent. She loves me but it can’t be helped. It is her nature. Well don’t you know, my seductive charming spy mistress, that the fuse is lit. Your behavior, a recipe for calamity. We might be the epicenter, ground zero, but no one shall be spared. Everyone involved will be affected. A 360 degree firestorm of shrapnel. Just because. You needed more… to feel more beautiful, more wanted, more seductive, by more parties. Never enough. More.
Love lies spilling guts, from the mess up still partially beautiful. Face almost calm, not contorted. Pain is numbed as she disintegrates like vapour. But we’ve become a desert and it will not rain back for centuries.

Led by foreign madness, we
- to long expected sleepless graves -
will swim to sink and drown in numbers
weighted down beneath the waves
with nothing left inside but shadows;
no-one left of worth to save

In one end and out the other,
warring with psychotic pride, then
born again and made to suffer
- karmic purpose ill-forgotten -
each new chance at life, a buffer:
"Next time: change..." we chant inside.

Cycles written, history leaking,
sorely weeping through the pores
of growing wombs and offspring born
- another child of soulless form -
to breastfeed lies, imprisoned, shrieking
time again: disease repeating.

Sin ingested (soup for poor)
- the bile of shame and burden lost -
as people starve and lives are sold
and terrors planned to mind control...
and all the while our sickened bodies
hover, rotting, rank with worry.

Toll the bells - it's time to breathe
and **** this horror from our conscience;
steer ourselves towards a pardon,
pave the way, resume our garden
seeding spirit, heart, and mind
with growth to bloom for one last time
or we, the people, incarnating,
won't survive beyond our mating.

Stared out at all the different faces
Equal and opposite parts break my stride
I fall apart to the sound of laughter
The next room over

Friends are like bugs in the radiator
Hoping they'll be the same as they are in your memories
But they never are
And neither are you

Leaking control issues out of my eyes
Jumped on the bed till it broke
Saw some names in the paper
This stillness is terrifying

I was time
I was pictures and I was poetry
I was a pond and the fish that swim in it
I grew limbs and spread across the land

I was coffee and I was tea
I was the sunshine on your face in the morning
I was a balloon
  Held down by a five year old
I slipped away, floated to the heavens
  And faded from his eyes

I was flowers on the table
  Waiting to be walked in on
I was my grandfather's mustache
  Tickling my mother's cheek as she was tucked into bed
I was a playground
I was the monkey bars, the swingset, and the slides

I was a raindrop
I was an ocean
I was tall buildings and the sky that they scraped
I was the orange in a sunset, the warmth in your heart
  Leaking out to cover the globe

I was a bicycle
I was the first ride without training wheels
I was Christmas lights
I was a glowing city at night
I was a bunk bed
I was a rooftop
  I was shared by two brothers
I was a little boy who wished to one day be as big as his father
I now only wish to be as great as him

"Still-born...died during labor"*
He stood on the edge of the roof
of the tall department building.
Despair rang in his chest like an

empty bell. He swayed drunkenly.
"Still-born...died during labor"
His eyes were those of a dead man's,
tears leaking out of the corners.

His feet shuffled towards the edge.
His mouth hung open, his nose was
"Still-born...died during labor"
rubbed raw and covered in dry snot.

He looked down and smiled slightly.
Another half step, and he cast
his eyes upwards at the grey sky
"Still born...died during labor"

and jumped.

floating down the streets the october air gives me brainfreeze
i recognise nothing but the gloomy nightfall which follows me
the suburban cemetery walls are caving in
and the rotting leaves strewn over the pavement smell like death
they crunch like bones under my boots
the oak trees are stripped to their skeletons
the damaged skies are leaking darkness and staining the clouds
the icy metal of your door handle is burning me
maybe there’s a fire behind these walls
but there’s no windows to look through so I can’t tell
please let me in
they’re coming for me again
everything is fading to black and i can’t breathe
im choking on glacial words like blocks of ice in the back of my throat
but you still tell me to cool down
when everything i ever needed was knitted into the warmth of your embrace

I wanna be beautiful
But really I'm not suitable
For kissing, talking, walking, *******
Or whatever humans do
I wish I could remember how to be
But I never really knew
And now I'm tearing at the edges
Leaking sand and salt and dust from all my seams
What's this dream? It isn't sweet
Who's this stranger inside me?
I was gutted like a home and they've replaced all of my bones
Hello- my name is jade
I wear white and hate the shade
My eyes are brown, my hands are pink
And I just poured $50 down the sink

Like the taste of complete indifference
like the thought of knowing
such bitterness awakens
unrecognizable reflections
Consuming from within
a black hole beneath the skin
my body is a galaxy
beautifully self-destructing

Time heals no longer
only masks the bleeding body
only hides the leaking chaos
behind serene scenes of sunsets
painted by the numbness

He is narcissist of highest character
is sunshine that is so smug
with its
wide smile
and rays that
poison

yet sunshine is
still your happiness

he is holder of many hearts
he likes to clutch them like
soft baby skin
to his soft chest
and feel the
beating and
warm gush
of blood
against
him

it feeds him
some say
like your eyes
never could
like the spark
that
pumped
like the
breath never could

that
beating
marvel
never could

like you
never could

he tells you that he has always loved the sun
you believe it is because he
sees himself when he
stares at it
in the reflection of the
car door

it slams behind him
as he steps over the
threshold

he does not whisper
of how your lips
were the key to his

he does not let his tongue
trail across your aching chest
as he murmurs
of how

you are the sun
baby
you shine so bright
baby

your skin is so soft
baby

sometimes you believe he has forgotten
that he was once you
was once the boy who lied
beneath the hungry tiger
and let its jaws
wrap upon his neck

and squeeze

sometimes
gentle narcissist
is he,

he likes to hold you to his chest
to feel your heart
and whispers about how
beautiful
you are
and how he

doesn't care

a pang shoots through your chest
and you feel tears leaking from you
you feel as if he has betrayed you

and then he

puts down your heart
looks you in the eye
and says

I don't love you for your beauty
baby
I love you for the fire
that spurs my wind
and
darkness that
sets my
skin aflame

The Sound Of Your Voice In My Mind
Is Like PAint Leaking In The Can
Traped And Cant Get Out
Cant Erase The Memories Of Us
or The Laughter Of Your Voice
... Its So Addictive
On My Mind All the Timee ,
Your Love Is My Drugg ♥

psychic infantile bopping
play silent drum kits in ear canals.
screeching like whales
in caverns of sea and stalagmites.

servantile shrapnel leaking into abyss:
feeding on skin and bones,
parasitically.
eating through biting cries,
viciously.

gumdrops streaking sidewalk
in musical rhythm stain glass windows
and blurry red eyed sun high in the sky
shines down crystalline tear drops
over your singularly secular shadow.

Had a conversation with Midas;
It got me thinking different.
Lebron James flow, I guess that y’all the witness.
I’m contemplating so much, it’s hard to write a sentence.
Early stage of my twenty’s, yet still I feel a menace.
We blur the lines of life and death whether it’s right or wrong.
But I love you through everything;
still I’m holding on.

And for so long I just been locked away.
Been writing in notebooks trying to find my way.
Midas sat and he told me I shouldn’t sell my soul.
You need to just get the ball rolling, you getting old.
Your heart got cold, sat in the freezer on the early days of summer, to chill, now you writing but against your will.
And I’m crying.
And on the inside I’m dying.
Every body says be strong, and believe me I’m trying.
Midas said that I be lying.
To get infatuation.
I wiped my eyes and I asked how to change this situation.
He said it’s your destination.
Change up your formation.
And stop all that leaking on the internet about complications.
Found that open door.
But you don’t wanna walk thru.
I love you through everything should’ve dropped; somehow I thought I lost you.
But later it will cost you.
Know you feeling kinda awful
Ima come back and see just where this conversation got you.
But I didn’t tell it all.
I figured I would call,
And tell Midas I’m focused and I’m ready to ball.
While I sit, just all alone in a empty hall.
As all of my mishaps are posters on the wall.

I am your safe word
Say it however silent you need to
I am your calm when unsteady hands shake
We are too torn for the light we are trying to ignite in each other
I fancy your beautiful
I will soothe the trembles in your mind even when she is standing next to you
She can't see you
Stop trying to show her the broken bits that I have crafted for my silver lining
I see your scars
And I am trying to embody to you what it is they mean to me
I love you
It came, it came out
Like waterfalls, like rainstorms, like hearts leaking not yet ready for touch
You're fragile
And I love you
I am not sorry
I will never be sorry
I love you
I am where you are free, this here is your truth
And you are trying to run away from me
I am not scared of your light
You are made, crafted, pieced together from remnants of the sun
I did not mean to fly so close to you
I am not trying to end as Icarus does
I am not willing to let us ruin me.