Maddening that it makes you feel pure
the security of your damp, decrepit sanctuary
and your empty, stomach churning words.
A pathetic refuge for you and your damage.
I’d set fire to your home
if I thought it would phase you.
I’d run sandpaper across your tongue
if you wouldn’t revel in the pain.
Unsettling how it doesn’t feel the same now
when you pull my hair
or the pace of your pulse.
A growing distance that you crave.
I’d banish you to the cosmos
if they wouldn’t bring you peace.
I’d gauge out your adoring eyes
if you wouldn’t turn them into art.

A near tragedy
at the hands of silk
stymied by fight,
maybe flight.
A failed departure
fastened to an exit
where drive met physics.
A heroic gut holding out
for a worthwhile loss.
One that creeps into your throat,
rips your chest,
burns your tear ducts.
A pain I’d much prefer.

You offered me a flower
     to place behind my ear
     and keep long after drying

You offered me a drawing
     the most beautiful I've ever looked
     myself through your eyes

You offered me sustenance
     for everything I needed
     everything I craved

You offered me a solid place
     to rest my bitter, busy head
     and lay down bare

You offered yourself to me, fully
     and for once I didn't hesitate
     to take and take and take

     and give myself to you

Accept what I deserve
That’s right
Serve it up I’ll swallow it
It’s so dreamy til I’m choking
On the whole of it
Backed down
Strung out
I’ve never been so meek
Break out
Sit down
I promise I’ll be sweet
Frozen
Broken
I’ll withstand the heat

He asked if I wanted to watch the world burn,
and I gave a resounding yes!
But only in my mind,
that’s not something you cop to
at least not out loud.
Yes, I’d like nothing more
than to watch the world burn.
Or better yet
explode,
and ******* away with it.
Am I the catalyst?
The pyromanic ****?
I must be.
Drown me
so my flame goes out.
Smother me
so I can’t do more damage.
Bury me
in ash where I belong.

Rotten to the core,
it happened over time.
I didn't try to stop it,
didn't care enough to try.
I get nostalgia for the bad times,
I get off on revenge.
Caught in distance from family,
a stampede of fake friends,
or a flock of new lovers,
driving to the end.
And if we should run out of gas,
I'll hitch my way to Hell.
Take all that I amassed
and burn it to a crisp.
Send a barreling *******,
I'm not leaving you ****.

Spoiling with age,
a global atrophy.
If I hit rock bottom,
can I rest?
How much longer can I pick,
before there's no more ego left?