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,Continue reading “July 19th – Corrosion in Armor: How I Survived the Wolf Inside Me”
Category Archives: PROSE
How to Trick Yourself into Love: A Poem Inspired by Hercules and the River Styx
KILL OR BE BROKEN. KILL OR BE ME. Killed in combat over and over, killing disease, killed in disguise, killed when I sleep, killed in my dreams, killed because I’m weak. Attracting spiritually broken, they see a healer in me. Chill in my bones. Killing me slowly, kiss me. It’s frozen. Feeling the breeze. OrContinue reading “How to Trick Yourself into Love: A Poem Inspired by Hercules and the River Styx”
Melodies of Vanish and Hope
I’m the saddest man on the planet, Dulcet zones become eruptions of death, Memorizing vocal tones, or numbing distress, Most ballads hit home, requiem out of balance, Such a synergistic release comes from this basket of malice. I’ll have it to here – 22oz black coffee French press, Anarchy is best dressed, brown leather, headrest,Continue reading “Melodies of Vanish and Hope”
Fötter Day Reverie: Suburban Breeze and Whispered Dreams
You can hear the suburban chime, zirconia vertebrae, pearly white spine. Glass thrown in stone houses, a regular suburban night, whirring, rewinding. Chronicled childhood in olive drab paint, monocle glass. Wormwood and bottles of Shawshank dissolute solitude. A wanderer who wallows in the maze en route, delaying for tomorrow, never promised today. A virgin diary,Continue reading “Fötter Day Reverie: Suburban Breeze and Whispered Dreams”
In the Spell of Miss P: A Delicate Dance of Desire, Elegance, and Enchantment
It was a matter of why, statuesque beauty over vodka and wine, an hourglass figurine. When you come around, it becomes tough to tell time. Seductress Stolichnaya, brunette, bridal, bohemian. It’s cruel how without even trying, you leave me in a state of dreams where I’m hardly breathing at the Gala. A seamstress couldn’t replicateContinue reading “In the Spell of Miss P: A Delicate Dance of Desire, Elegance, and Enchantment”
MINI JOURNAL: Delicate Skin, Negative Print – Navigating the Intricacies of Love and Loss
Who’s barely intact? Two hundred thousand nails puncture veins in my back, whether they’re human or metal remains to be asked. Yellow pages, your name severs sapience, saps like heaven’s angels. Vessels fray then collapse. Lord father, elevate us. Why am I so fixated on the past? Separate fact from fiction. Eradicate my relapse, rehabilitationContinue reading “MINI JOURNAL: Delicate Skin, Negative Print – Navigating the Intricacies of Love and Loss”
JOURNAL: Flight AA4564 – Notes from the Disconnected
I feel so disconnected. Pictures of stars are trillions of seconds old, heliocentric. We spend our time wishing we could revisit a setting. I could see it in decimals, each dot a pause in a sentence. Hold my hand, avalanche. Bring me the check when you’re finished, mezzanine at the theater, velvet seamstress, Madam Gutierrez.Continue reading “JOURNAL: Flight AA4564 – Notes from the Disconnected”
Skylit Lighthouse: Watching Our Eyes Meet Our Lips
We spent an hour alone, watching our eyes meet our lips. My revolver’s extinct, extinguishing meandering thoughts, Cradled across indifference, right into addiction, Deference to malice, rosebud digitalis reborn, a grin. While I think about things I haven’t before, Soaked in grimace and gin while I’m singing along, Philosophers’ physics, you had me at ‘gone,’Continue reading “Skylit Lighthouse: Watching Our Eyes Meet Our Lips”
Im a Robot, But I Bleed the Buzz of My Alcohol
I paint whole lives in the blink of an eye, summoning statisticians just to decipher my descriptions. It’s all a tangled web of numbers and analysis, a solitary journey through the dimly lit library of existence. Obsessed with the binary, I calculate the formula to dominate you—crucial at worst, but at best, it’s the pinnacleContinue reading “Im a Robot, But I Bleed the Buzz of My Alcohol”
Then and Now: My Apologies, But the Gray No Longer Holds Beauty for Me
Dear Journal, Recollections of a picnic eventuate vividly in my mind. Amidst the reminisced scene, a profound sense of auditory quiescence prevails. What endures most is the ethereal spectacle wherein the heavens infused my being with enduring chromaticity. The transformation of a seemingly desolate desert into an entrancing marvel transpired. Heliotrope, lavender, and carmine mergedContinue reading “Then and Now: My Apologies, But the Gray No Longer Holds Beauty for Me”
JOURNAL: July 19th, 1991: A Journey of Reflection and Resilience
All little boys need father figures, Not to be normal or sane. You wouldn’t turn on a light switch without knowing where all the conduits are placed. You grow up with a fistful of hurt, a surge like a missile, without hearing a ‘miss you.’ But one thing is certain, nothing makes you question yourContinue reading “JOURNAL: July 19th, 1991: A Journey of Reflection and Resilience”
JOURNAL: The Ineffable Embrace: When Words Fail to Capture Feelings
Sigh. The streetlight kissed your eyes and created an impression so pure, its whiteness. I bring this up because I fell in love by remembering my reflection off your iris. Expression in its highest form, sensory design to cure, destinies arrived. Analyzed the sculpture, of course, then vandalized your structure. Leaves falling aimlessly, in theirContinue reading “JOURNAL: The Ineffable Embrace: When Words Fail to Capture Feelings”