Paint my heart as empty
all blue and black and grey

Around it perforate a circle
from beginning back to start

Paint it very gently
then quickly pull away

Tearing it out
without ripping it apart

Someday they'll surely place it
in the Gallery of Fools

Inside the Wailing Walls
out past the Hall of Shame

And when the people face it
they'll cherish their own hearts

As if anatomy has
anything to do with pain

©Jason Cole

That constant rhythm played in his mind,
fingers drummed against the fragmented matter of childhood.
He'd find himself in the arms of one, with what their nimble fingers,
their constant questions, their thirst for companionship.

He had lost himself long ago, trapped behind the walls of secrecy,
The world won't turn to look at him now, his mere hand is stained with crime.
He can't remember the last time he had called himself a man,
Thought like a man, ate like one, thirsted for passions like one.

His cold stare remains unmoved, hiding the battle that quivers in his veins,
Every so often his lips are licked, demeanor utmost calculated, predator by nature, created none other by perfection, your 'God'.
His knuckles are worn to bone, crushing the wrist of youth,
His ribs perforate through flesh, hiding the shatter.

One boy, following his shadow, altered an event,
within his eyes trembled a single cure, no more.
Trapped was he under his lover's harm,
but devoted he remained, and hid against his bone.

Sometimes the boy would watch him sleep, and question why his eyes were so worn in slumber.
Sometimes the man would watch him sleep, and try to seek comfort in a youth he'd never gained nor aspired to.

Knotted in limb, questionable in intention, they tear at each others skin,
Hoping for some answer to every fault they bear.
Now the only song he'll ever play to him, lies within the rhythm of the rain; unheard.

- N.C

Us poets,
We perforate the darkness within us
with the light of the Sun.
Soak ourselves in melancholy
like a worn out sponge
and call it inspiration.
Spite like a trail of gunpowder
lit with mad passion
and fulminate onto a piece of paper
tranfused from the nooks of our hearts,
white turns red
coarse in red,
red with lingering passion.

Into
Something digestible
for discening eyes
thoroughly wayward among wilted leaves
vagrant souls with their mouths
stitched because of
the dolour of misunderstanding
hissing with the wind in search
of something or someone
to relate to.

We make it seem like we're not so alone in this world.

A delicate fabric
Developing into me
Pursuing promises of light
As my lungs begin to  perforate
A rebel moon uninvited
Spitting pieces of ropes into the wasted clouds
I become frantic with the thought of relapse
With reflections of vulnerability
Starless twisting my departure
Boiling my foundations as the ashes bleed
The remorse of my demise seeping out my integrity

My soul has lift off,
the slow tempo of
my breath suddenly
boundless

My drums perforate
surrounded by a
universal register of
beats and measures
rolled into a mysterious,
melodic constellation

Dashing across the board
my fingers feverishly frisk
for the keys
of
Mozart, Prokofiev,
Rachmaninoff

With hammers and strings
I scale the sounds
of perfection
while properly perched
in front of
Grandma's Pianola
pretending to be
composed

your nacreous  eyes
deep luscious blue as ever
they calm me
like the calm in a hurricane

they perforate into my soul
i cannot resist
a warble escapes my l i p s

when you look at me
with those iridescent eyes
my heart does pirouettes
i break into a form of e cs t a c y

i cannot hold no longer
i am in need of your k  i  s   s

(b.d.s.)

You shot your mouth off
Emotional bullets,
Rapid fire,
Trying to
Crack,
Puncture,
Perforate,
My barriers, but they stay
Strong
I will withstand this
Still will I stand straight,
When you have
Exhausted,
Emptied,
Depleted,
When your vocal shells
Hit upon the floor,
I withstood you onslaught
The battle field littered
With false words
Meant to harm
Image,
Confidence,
Self,
But this was a battle
And I shut the door,
The war was over before
I'd let it go any further,
I was stronger this day, and now I move on.

whose name made you drink enough to forget your own?

why are you slurring, stumbling, shivering, shaking,

your mouth a spillage of magenta and fuschia,

hands slung over your best friends as they steady you into a car,

a cab they've called in a flurry of messy text messages and laughs,

joking about how drunk they've gotten to make sure his name

never perforate itself in your mind again.

you thought the two (or eight) shots you down,

in flimsy, rough, swallows of gasoline and heartbreak

will bury him in a box underneath the dirt floor of your mind

but his nomenclature refuse to transform from 'love' to 'stranger'.

he stays, he stays, he stays

unlike his form, his body, his soul,

and in the vagaries of life,

we lose and we lost,

because a girl's love changes,

like the seasons,

and we can heal,

we can break,

but we'll be okay,

once again.

I’ve been needing your lies
I’ve been craving your poison
I’ve been missing your demons
I’ve been loving your hater
While I was playing with death
While it was ******* me upside down
While I was freezing face to hell
I’ve been moaning your name
When my hands were trembling
When my soul was jumping
When my veins were twisting
I howled your April’s farewell
Once Azrael was invited
And the sky was open
Then my mind got naked
Your shadow was my only Savior
My voice was resonating
But from your ears was forbidden
My snow capped depth was on the summit of its alp
Pleading you to be its shield
That’s when you threw it into a dark swamp
Claiming that you were lost in a blinded place
Everything was mute and your bones were broke
But I saw you secretly radiating in a crystal ball
You thought I’m nowhere nearer
Was it amusing to fool a downcast lifer?
You were pushing my destiny to its sharp ending chapter
Below the belts freedom was dedicated to a shrewd sinner
Meanwhile I’ve been taken to where nothing left to catch
Failures over the time of my rotten life have built my forgotten grave
Gloomy butterflies surrounded my sick grove
No flowers to bloom no hope to ****
No words to draw no feelings to touch
No time to rush no remorse to scratch
The door of paradise was barely visible
But the clouds drove me to a fiery jungle
I begged life to be my sucker
One last elegiac parting with winter
But death was an invincible fighter
Loneliness was feeding my blur future
Chiselling out my anxiety within four blank walls
Then stirred up a wild storm of toxic fears
Moving on was the synonym of stuck in a rut
A sterile heart gave up on its darned patience
Charcoaled love erased its existence
Dry tears chained to these anorexic cheeks
You shutdown the light you once heated up
Now I’m sober yet drunk on my coma
Trying to perforate your karma
While cleaning up my ugly Fantasia.
Where I was your moon and you were my star