I had a box of letters that I kept hidden in the crawl space in the attic. They were all to you. I would read through old stories and moments that we shared and the fire in my chest would burn even higher than before. I wrote to you, and told you how you seemed like the air and that I wanted to breathe you in. How you were the sun, and I wanted to spend my whole life in the summer. How you were the rain, and how I fell for you to be like the rain too. One day I got angry, angry because it had stopped raining, yet the sun didnt show through. And I tried to take in lungfulls of air but I choked on nothing. I took our box of letters and secrets, our box of late night tear stains and drunken conversations and lit a match. I burnt them all. So I could just forget about everything and the fire would die out inside of me. But I found that box today with only one letter inside. "J-," it read, "it has always been you. -S" you'll never see it. But it has.. It has always been you.

Stay up all night
and whisper secrets
to my ear

let our star studded
sighs fill up
the night

let gazes between
this heart and
mine

flare like cannon
fire across the
sky

and let deep
lungfulls of love
raise our spirits
like whiskey kisses

breathing, believing
in ourselves when
we wake

The meetings with genius became less frequent,
It was a cruel joke
My ex was trying to tell me
I wasn't trying to hear it
I'm not a genius
I'm an insane, rambling fool

Brown seawater rushes around me
It is random and fatal and known to me only
It does not contain cosmic secrets
Just unforgiving, icy cold

It is the men who keep above the crushing waves
Who can speak to be remembered
That is self respect,
That is true honor.

But still,
I sing to them with lungs full of water.

Strength is irrelevant.
A tolerance for pain only shows you're used to it.
To be honest,
I wish I felt a little bit more,
So I know I can still feel.
But self harm is a no-no.
And anger towards others is as well.
So what do I do?
Do I prowl the streets looking for victims?
Or do I sit in the closet,
Hacking at my wrists,
Trying to sever my connection with reality?
Do I silence the pleas for help?
Do I scream louder?
Is someone drowning trying to keep me afloat?
I hope not.
I'm not really worth the effort.
Slipping beneath the waves,
May be just the release I require.
So if you're trying to help me, don't.
You'll end up with lungfulls of water,
And a regret you couldn't save the unsavable.

All dialect seeps through the skin
fills lungs with lungfulls
eyes drink language until drunk
keep on drinking till sober
a poet sits on the bough of an Oak
its the only wood strong enough
to take the weight of silence.

Pardon me while I
repeat myself
in angry verse about
the usual things:

Death and violence
neglect and silence
abuse and regret
lost love and nebulous yet.
I try to think of brighter things
like your eyes or
the sound when the little guy sings
but it all turns cold
and I can't do as I'm told
and soon these things fall apart
and so I give up before I start.
I try to write myself out
on an ocean of wasted ink
but lose lungfulls of air
and finally just sink.
I don't know why you love me
and I'm afraid to ask.
I'm incapable of teamwork
and never up for the task.
I'm always seven words into
my biting verbal sting
before I realize it was me
who said the wrong thing.
And I know it's hard when
I shut down, it feels like lies
and ******* my silence
but that's me trying to apologize.

When I was young
I tried to call the thunder
and marveled when it came
but the dry dirt still cracked
and peeled, just the same.

Honey-rays drizzle through the peakings in branches,
Diamond-sparkles in my eyes.
Flecks of golden sunlight pour
Landing on the shaded grass. Through the misty green
Veil of sparsen
strings my eyes to the pond before me
We lounge with the soil, haunt the declining hours
Burning nostrils with poignant air with inhales that seem too short
Lungfulls that leave
Under foliage – time is nought
Water still, our time is caught
Eve creeps red across the lawn
And soon we must pack and leave
I pack our things – as I always do – carry them still
Seeking you, I turn and shuffle
Cascading leaves, and deep breaths
Mosquitoes bred have come to feast
The shade has spread, no need for trees
I steal a glance at the static pond, its meditation poison
Its presence stable
Peak the stealing gait,
That retreats towards the blacked lawns
Its footfall fervent, its placing sure.