Love is a Memory I am the callus over your feme sole, vestigial voracious roar where once we bed as lions. Nostalgia, now froth from our breath and temporal lips.
Sunlight and Torpid Bliss.Carless nature. Pessimistic likealabaster columns,tinctured into azures gradation and penumbra façades.Thoughtless as wings to strumthe vocal air,nor whim of its limbs.I care not about darkness aged onto the grass;Not for all the quiet hoursof its greyand thoughtless, memory.
The Pole of Two ExtremitiesI am all thatyou left in meours is the sea and we die for a dreamwhere you left me adrift scorned by the desert of your planI'll shore unwanted of its memoriesas promises are born unmade.We could have had it alleternallyenthralled from that shit you called a heart fathomless and dark forever I crawledforever I'll fall (break...)Let me find youlet me hold youlet me love youlet me kill youChorus: 2xLet us have the oceansLet drift an endless, past let drown the shallow love and lies where once, I followed your guile, deep and endless fathom-Like falls from the earth.break....... For lovenever meant to beWhere it ventured deepand held too tightlysmothered depths that dreamt so highly, dreams it crushed, the abyss shone brightly. I'll be where you c
Bordom has its Songtimeassortedits long hand shadowssoftand lapsea gobbet busy of monotonoushymnsconditionwound by thesteady whirand puckered lip
Nigh the Solemn, Memory of YouSo I walked into the night Kusher inhaled cinders from marble and glass Until my corner is dark. Recluse and Saturated Into the stars, where you become but a brief trajectory within an infinite vacuum and we separate like pride from passion.I saw Venus, Prominent and incandescent as if passivity had other virtues to palpate into the cold void like careful calculations of an ominous plane and far too vain for my naked eye. I saw mars, an infernal love and fool flame The reckless and willing destruction of its own self-possession. I am that crimson and fervor, corona ejectingfrom my spherica
The Wealthy Count too Much"One."He lifted another stack..."Two."
-In the endless tranquil forest,Hidden by the shadows beneath the leaves,I smile; at peace with the world,As your corpse smiles back at me...
ElenaElena followed me homefrom work one nightand stayed for tea and eggs,and all that minimum wageand wars between the sheetscould bring.She said she was a goddess,daughter of a carpenterwith her long red, red hairand eyes as warm as hazel nutson Christmas morning.Her hands spoke brailleacross my backand made the silenceof Sunday into a prophecy.She left one Octoberjust like she said she wouldwhen the fireflieshad turned their wings to ash.And I found revelationin red, red wineand cheap red, red fabricthat came off in my handslike summer.
Finding HappinessShe's burning up like a suicide noteAnd upon it's legacy linesScribed in crimson inkIs all her little curios of happiness.Before misery waddled up,Knocked over her correction fluid;Erasing all her joy in a blink.There's a tape recorder by her sideSkipping a death tone melody;The silence she hides inside.Should she stop.And rewind?Wipe her days of self-pity and hateUntil she can record a new songUpbeat to a happy tune of fate.By her crumpled flat dress,Glares wild, her knife and her pills,Though the sight macabreOnly sets her heart ablaze to chills.Serrated metal to barcode inA reminder of all her undying painAnd the dark she kisses within.Numb, she knocks back medicine,Her bus stop on the highway of life.Faltering she drops lipstick blade andTo an honest mirror she turns...What ever happened toThe smiling girl?What ever happened toHer innocent future?Tears fade to a calm stareWhich unravels a soulful grin;A u-shape of acceptanceTo new challenges she mus
I'm too poor to feel so middle class.My teeth still ache from the dentist,but it doesn’t stop me from nibblingthe cheese danish I bought at Krogerthis morning, warmed by thirtyseconds in the microwave. My mugof hot chocolate is too big, and Idrink it all. The washer is on its lastcycle; the cat is purring at my feet.Netflix is background noiseto clacking keys, typing a transcriptof middle class morning that I’ll latercall a poem or a turning point,wondering when I became such an adult.
lines for rae armantroutFor instance, an old oak grovedisassembled.And to you, Rae, because what appearslike campfiresis always the cosmic cascading bodies,torched and tumbling,and someone screaming evacuate-meaning rebuild, re-haunt.***Reading about the experiment,it became evident-the traffic of moans,crowds of shadows standingin the peripheral,a sense of expectation and dread.This is how death comes in poems:The last campfire in the distance goes dark.
to the ghosts with you, my deari came not to be kissed,or to have myself cradledin the curve of a throat,but to be broken,to be diminishedby your lack of affection& over indulgence of sexualization.but i,uneducated in your intent,found myself left entirely whole& incapable of the furyi had sought to sow between theridges of my aching ribs.
the polar opposite of translucencycradled in the echoof a cloudburst,the earth curls invisible fingersabout my achilles' tendon& pulls;she cries that i am notintended for the clouds,that my mind must not wanderbetween their susurrous concavesso i,furious with her insistence,her petulance,untether myself from the soft,diaphonous comfort of the heavens& sink,down into the weight of gravity.listless green blades welcome my soles,stimulating a tickle,an itch,a sneeze; i never have done wellwith nature,but oh,she is calling for me,soft-tongued and crisp in herown shadow,& i am sorely temptedbut no,no--i am not for the soil.lungs listless,she becomes my inhale;lightheaded& translucent,my alveoli shudderbeneath her force--i am not for the air, either.mellow-skinned,i stand beneath her onslaughtuntil she tires,her molten heart beating beneath my toes;unable to woo me with her facets,she pirouettes,cloaking me in one last attempt,a final shadow.my pores bloom& i r
Thy Fallen AdamO father, thou hast forsaken me.Thou hast breathed essenceInto these corpse lungs, and yetThou had cast me outInto this cold black with no regret.Why dost thou shudder so father?Thine eyes were the first IBore witness to in mine blossom.'Ere did that grace of life ebb within;Yet thou did but blench and lookNo more upon thy creation no farther.Dost thou have stomach to embrace?O father, I ought to have been an angel,But alas thou hast sewn a villain's faceTo hide mine internal beauty.O father, why thou elude me of love?Thou elude my diabolic presenceWith thy Prometheus hands, and stillThy plague am I to thouIn pestilence dire I maketh thou ill.Where dost thou go to weep father?Look! Even stars insult my frameNe'er did the celestial offer me comfort,Yet thou would dare mock too.Only shallow rain cries tears ever blue.Dost thou have conscience to behold?O father, did thou not dream me as mortal,But I am a patchwork of nightmares oldAs a mirror of thy own cruelt
AgainAnother dayA new beginningAnother nightThe same nightmare
A White Wedding Your flowing gown ofWhite Lies.