Envy the way words break over pages
Feel sick with sheer weight
Drawing the life out of me
Killing me mercilessly
Holy, Holy, Holy is my suicide almighty
My weight I can't detach from
My guilt for things unknown
My words like jellyfish swimming, folding,
Floating out from my pen to my paper
A sad ballet
If only, if only
Peace like a river swayed me
Back to you my only true love
Real as the weight of my limbs
I step forward, keep stepping but find no relief
I am a wandering Jew
In the white hot pitch of wilderness
That remains unbroken before me
Like a rolling tide my sweet
Electric Jellyfished words slide
Trying to make me known
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
TV; BOY; MICHIGAN
It hurts to be here if I let you in.
Stepping daintily, cautiously on these grounds becomes unbearable like heartbreak or maybe it's heartburn.
Either way I'm on fire.
My lust for you glutinously, secretly feed.
The ghost of your body, your steps, your life, that ghostly you inflaming the lips that once spoke of this place this strange land of seasons; like your moods your sweet civil tongue bitter to the end.
But it hurts, it hurts, you must know it hurts.
I must want to hurt.
To feel the spark the gross spittle of pretend, splattering against the walls of my mind like hot courage.
"It's alright the jump of my heart will.." But no. We've been here before.
Too much mourning for the morning.
Creating extravagant amounts of time, of space in the thousands to separate you and me.
I am in the unknown of the unrequited.
Unrequited in commitment/courage, for I know you loved me good sir.
Just wouldn't say it. Say it!
My lip curls and I tremble silently, seduced by the fire burning anew inside of me. Lighting up the salted pavements, the single street lamp that flickers.
The forest that is your mind. Burning like hope for the day.
Lighter fluid of the mind I was. Burnt off so quickly without the proper kindling,
The sickening figment consumes.
Left me naked and astray. Vulnerable does not even begin to explain me. I am bear of all pretenses unlike you, unlike you.
The air sticks to my lungs like iced concrete. My breath comes out again stagnant and haggard.
Noble Torture.
Unlike the torment that proceeds of the memories I loved but have not lived. But somehow still breathed. It's not as simple as you said.
Nothing I've imagined; everything I've seen before.
This is not love.
'Love? What about it...Love is mostly just hurt.'
'Love. The fresh good kind."
'I know nothing of the sort.'
Your presence consuming and quelling in my subconscious. Bursting, busting, swelling painfully past my dreaming eyes to ones frantically attempting to push you away from the present. The scenery infected by your words, so sharp so far off.
Needles, needles my friend.
Beach my ass.
I've shared too much with you; I'm see through now like glass.
Go ahead and break
Frigid ice underfoot blown away half noticed
these cracks make my soul retch and heave
But here in between regret and relief,
There is such a steady
O, so steady
Beat
Stepping daintily, cautiously on these grounds becomes unbearable like heartbreak or maybe it's heartburn.
Either way I'm on fire.
My lust for you glutinously, secretly feed.
The ghost of your body, your steps, your life, that ghostly you inflaming the lips that once spoke of this place this strange land of seasons; like your moods your sweet civil tongue bitter to the end.
But it hurts, it hurts, you must know it hurts.
I must want to hurt.
To feel the spark the gross spittle of pretend, splattering against the walls of my mind like hot courage.
"It's alright the jump of my heart will.." But no. We've been here before.
Too much mourning for the morning.
Creating extravagant amounts of time, of space in the thousands to separate you and me.
I am in the unknown of the unrequited.
Unrequited in commitment/courage, for I know you loved me good sir.
Just wouldn't say it. Say it!
My lip curls and I tremble silently, seduced by the fire burning anew inside of me. Lighting up the salted pavements, the single street lamp that flickers.
The forest that is your mind. Burning like hope for the day.
Lighter fluid of the mind I was. Burnt off so quickly without the proper kindling,
The sickening figment consumes.
Left me naked and astray. Vulnerable does not even begin to explain me. I am bear of all pretenses unlike you, unlike you.
The air sticks to my lungs like iced concrete. My breath comes out again stagnant and haggard.
Noble Torture.
Unlike the torment that proceeds of the memories I loved but have not lived. But somehow still breathed. It's not as simple as you said.
Nothing I've imagined; everything I've seen before.
This is not love.
'Love? What about it...Love is mostly just hurt.'
'Love. The fresh good kind."
'I know nothing of the sort.'
Your presence consuming and quelling in my subconscious. Bursting, busting, swelling painfully past my dreaming eyes to ones frantically attempting to push you away from the present. The scenery infected by your words, so sharp so far off.
Needles, needles my friend.
Beach my ass.
I've shared too much with you; I'm see through now like glass.
Go ahead and break
Frigid ice underfoot blown away half noticed
these cracks make my soul retch and heave
But here in between regret and relief,
There is such a steady
O, so steady
Beat
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Fake Roses
Sin is like mold that clings to my innards.
Desperate and mossy, pocked with stench unholy.
But I can't cough it up, it's stuck, stuck within me.
It's struck me down once more, forever more.
I'm tangled up in the mess of me. The mess I've made.
For what seems like eternity...
It sits and it smells.
Like fucking fake roses.
Thick and unclean.
Desperate and mossy, pocked with stench unholy.
But I can't cough it up, it's stuck, stuck within me.
It's struck me down once more, forever more.
I'm tangled up in the mess of me. The mess I've made.
For what seems like eternity...
It sits and it smells.
Like fucking fake roses.
Thick and unclean.
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