They’re psychoanalyzing my pride.
I’m ignoring the obvious: a war vet with ear plugs on the fourth of July.
You’re that pyrotechnic glow on my mind.
This memoir is a token of antisocial expression.
Our vermilion bond was anecdotal at best, demoralizing.
You’ll only ever see it as a victimless crime.
siphoning bits and pieces of our symphony’s chime
Sitting in my oval office with petitions to sign
writhing in inconsistency not filling in shoes fit to size.
Concealing true identities, revealing my shrine
The answer is rhetorical, when I ask who am I?
Enough of the superstition.
My existential crisis is to feel like I kiss your iris every time I blink your eyelids.
Category: personal
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inept, and upset, it’s like nothing is mentioned.
lifes a run on sentence, interconnecting.
eclectic, electric, im a plug in the wall.
a bit so perplexive. spot the occult in the psalms.
the rejection. a song in the hall of this crazy asylum
straitjacket is off, but I still feel like i’m
binded
abstaining. no hiding. not restrained or assigning
what’s a goon to a goblin–12 noon to this bondage?
loudspeakers.
shouts weaken as I interrupt the connection.
been seasons since I slept at the suns’ dusky consent
grayscale cuts. as lovely as ever
It’s only fear if we love to project it
i’ve learned to accept it, in a functional sense
inflections infecting, it’s so fucking intense
influx of attention. but none to respect
found you by searchingyour pendant glow in the dark on your neck
defunct. so abrupt, you can barely hear it
footsteps like eruptions, each thud becomes searing
unbarring. unnerving, like mummies in pyramids
test love like currents, to conduct an experiment
shave off bucks antlers, concoct my lovers potion in dye
appearing like, serum – you took most of in stride
the locust–conniving, it’s always close to
my spine
blowing smog in my airways like covid arrived
halo spinning on her devil horns, soaking in pride.
denoting my time- unhook your brassiereabsolutely no focus adhered
from shifting gears in a war, now the coast has been cleared
she rode clean on her own horse, barefooted and gorgeous
you read me through your code words:no feeling remorse
like a fleeting emotion, cleave through divorcing
she march to the beat of her own drums. cheeks are like porcelain
its by gods grace- strawberry-stained bleeding disorder.the heart beating endorphins
let’s ease up and leave one weekend in greece, white villa is all that we need
cherry stem in her teeth. counting twenty sheeplings to sleep
night time plagued by beehives and wasps, in a treetop that’s neither streamlined nor warped
pero no te preocupas mi amor-
in the morning they’ll be more breezy seaside to waft
sea salt aroma, as sweet as its strong
no siege of despondence, no seething dissolving
just me, and you as a darling, me being charming,meeting you with resolve
so gather the sky clouds, chain the puzzle piece to my heart
my chéri amor, don’t wait till this dies down
permanent spring, summer breeze, no winter allowed
went from counting to three to running out of fingers to counti’m sorry
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He’s Unsorted. Unabashed. Formal with his emotions. Unashamed. Vulnerable worn as a sash on thunderous days. Sport a badge of honor stained with the blood of Cain. What’s her name? Love lost. Lust loves to come in gangs. My father never asked if I’m okay. He told me he forgave me for what we brought, but he’ll never say. (Sorry). When I’m in pain, my language crosses barriers all the same. Rain forest. Brain blots. Lost in my badge of honor. Should I say, I’m sorry? I’m not to blame.
Fuck that motherfucker
Fuck that motherfucker
Fuck it. Flames.
Distraught and caught in daze. There are days I question, am I supposed to be gone? Hoping to holy father that I’m totally wrong. Rotary dial. Noticeable drama. Rusty robot. Corrosion in armor. Lunch with locusts. Emotional trauma. Bandages with no adhesive falling off of my stitches. I’m more than enraged, I’m sort of conflicted. Sort of insane. Hold me no longer. Aborting the mission. There are holy ghosts that I pray to. Prayers vanish. Displaced. I read Nietzsche and questioned myself. I read what she wrote me—- answer to questions dispelled. There’s a wolf inside you, with a sheep in its teeth. What’s yours will find you, and crush you to pieces. Find your heart indiscreetly, whispering that I love you. Distilled inner feelings. Take a shot of me and consume. Sometimes I want to be lowered inside a grave. Mausoleum adventures. Nausea and deflection. Hardly seen. I surrender, any parts of me I dismember. I believe God isn’t God if he’s hiding his face. Don’t deny me my faith. Close thy eyes then, sleep till forever. Crying in shapes. Not circles and ovals, more jagged edges and blades that scrape down my cheek bones when they fall into place. Tears become blood. Blood becomes rage. It’s what we sign our names in when we scream out our names when I’m inside of you, inside of your brain. Eye stare psychosomatic, why are we strange? Lie there so damaged, why do you push me away when I just want to stay? Why do I stay when there’s blood on my face? A lion pawing away flies that nick at the scrapes, blood on my hands, nothing to say, asking if someone else wants to dance in my place, Bach’s Chaconne, slow waltz into grace, I’ve had it to here, I’ve had it to space, satellite metal floating till it touches something to change, engaging in societal rituals just to escape, Jupiter ring hula hoop interlaced, interlaced, “Pale Fire” on the coffee table as Blade Runner plays, hiking alone up Olympus with a cane in my fist, never without format, never existed, a whisper that’ll forever persist
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My most cherished possession, holstered like a primary weapon
Baseline until I count to seven, quiet like a library session
Four Five Six.
These moments just help you evolve
Which adds truth to my theory that pain is necessary involvement
In life and in fiction, typecast me as your typical loner
Sedentary absolving, finding peace as a cynical joker
Time caught in a stone. I’d propose if you let it
I could grab you a minute, if you’d hold me a second
Slowly regressing into a caterpillar
Hold me. Then clench me.
Visit my calloused winters (Don’t) let me go- grab my spring and its passive whispers
Don’t catch my depression, but do catch my kisses
Even if it’s something to feel
Run to the hills.
Rip out this chapter and section
Tourniquet heal.
Veins indigo, black, and magenta
Dab in scented oil to mask the repentance
Show valid potential in aridest deserts
Ignoring red flags was only half of the question Half the equation-double the time–learned a third of the lesson
Rose-colored glasses shroud the color of pennants
Do wing-clipped fowls still make the bird as majestic?
Hardly.
Do inklings slipped under your door make you regret it?
Still hear your laugh interlaced in absentia If a tree falls in a forest you burn, does it matter no more?
Does the sound it makes get engulfed in the roars?
Patient connoisseur, full of control
Atom poems in my notepad stayed so reactive
Drunk cursive shooting out my pen like the borealis
Digitalis in the garden. Ketel 1 in my ale
Procrastinating the ending, I couldn’t have been better prepared
No plot twists keep character progression derailed
Fighting uphill battles with no wind in my sails
I promise you I meant what I said
Even if half of it was muttered on the other side of the bed
I’m waiting alone, plagued by a catch-22.
You sang me a song but sang it in blue.
Win, lose or draw.
Paint pictures of this varying muse
Recapturing colors that I barely knew -
I’m stronger than you. Or I thought I was. Maybe I am. Don’t touch me. Make up your mind. Tell me you love me. Fuck me like you mean it. Mean it when you fuck me, love me when you tell me, you love me. Tell me a secret. Show me your ghosts, and I’ll show you, my demons. Baby, you should go. Maybe we only got along because our monsters played nice. How can I atone? I’m so over being alone. But I’d rather be alone than prone to abandonment and holding on to consolation that’ll never be known. Fuck what your sentiments wrote – they lied to me and let it be shown.
A lantern is only a guide if the lights lit, and you have your sights set on looking for home. Hope you sow what you reap, motherfucker, my eyes on you. You’ll be holding up hollow fruit with no seeds in between. you asked me to keep my poetic words away from hurting your soul. I aint keen on breaking promises, but no. Hold on a minute, hold on an hour, hold onto my throat. my broken heart is telling me you told him you won’t.
Fuck it, I’m definitely stronger than you. If I did half the shit you did, you wouldn’t be breathing.
I could feel it. My heart was beating faster than it should. I kissed you while crying, my eyes blurring the truth. Moments froze. A cryogenic holding cell, to serve as reconnaissance. Mild dilemma. Miles of enemies. My field of daisies wakes up to your bombs. Rot in your holding cell. Holding your rotting cells. Selfish, cold, hell. I hope that you’re happy. Well, I’m happy you’re hoping. We look at the present like it’s not as good as the past, try to absolve ourselves from what the future brings us. Cumulonimbus. Futuristic. Who are you kissing?
It’s me. Look at your constellation tattoo and connect the dots. I am that shining star. Do you ever look at it? It’s the letter Y. The same letter as the question I ask. Phases unphased. Finding myself in the middle of nowhere. Then, I’m finding myself in the middle of nowhere. I don’t know what I am, but I do know what you aren’t. Humans are complex. We show emotions that we don’t currently feel and hide the ones that we do feel. I’m a crab in my shell when I’m screaming to let me the fuck out of my own skin. Someone once said it is impossible to be selfish and happy – and that’s terribly true. I just hope you stop being selfish.
You tell yourself you’re a free soul, unbound by any chains. But my love, you’re holding your own chains. You’re not free. You’re just running away. There are no underground railroads for people who run away from the truth. There is only one way to unlock the chains. Your lips need to stop telling lies. Now tell me with your eyes how you’ll make that happen.