tasted the cartilage of the raw men
in peasant shoes
then the shroud was lifted
the mass obscured in the corner began to resemble
crawled across to sudden realization
I knew the sentence was forming, so suppression
flashbacks consuming from every angle
sailing over verdant
~
take it with a grain of salt and some humility
wash it down with the cool attention
youre always getting
not saying you don’t deserve it,
not bothering wondering what one does to earn it
it’s my fault for getting all worked up again
pent up passion can get a little inbred
unsightly repelling repugnant
not something you want to be around
I understand better than anyone
~
a pulsing sound in the hallway
one foot and then the other and then the hand on the doorknob
wondering what have I done or is he just making the rounds
is he just beating his feat
simply because he does not tread lightly
who administered the discipline that slurred your compassion
who kicked the back of your legs and brought the belt down
who sold their spirit for the clothes on your back
regardless, stay down
sleep on the couch but too tired to dream
loneliness is the only privacy I get
my spine keeps twisting
I’m not getting any younger, am I?
the drip of acid tooth
that burns my throat the most
every day it gets easier
I’m folding into myself then torn in half and discarded
and once the initial rush wears off youre an insect carcass for the rest of the night
can’t we just build a cage for her
a little pen where she can scratch at the walls
until she gets so tired
and lies down
then we close the lid on that
sprakling blue eye
after the first few you just go deaf
neglected inner demons
(and a loss of hope)
the idle sloth that just needs some time to think
of where to idly project his affections next
enough charm to get him through the door before
the pillar cracks and he falls right to the floor
~
stumble forward into the rising tide
with your open mouth and dead dog eyes
theres already cracks in the porcelain vase
but you fill it with water and lylacs
you deliver the news
and those shamefully emotive curled lips become a twisted smile
the message, delivered with understatement
the last hope dried and tossed in the bin
temporary empathy
I still have your old ring
you can always dream back to the cradle of the woods
blissed out
when the day of labor’s ended,
you drive away so fast
you flow my blood for me
I can’t imagine how you survive it on your own
is the glance a glance through
smiling at the mirror
this island only has one citizen
what you hear is the sound
of the earth pressed up against your ear
you can’t fool everyone all the time
when it’s only you
you can’t inhale ignorance anymore
you can’t burn bliss and stare directly into the flame
burial in space
growing old on the planet earth
attempting to become self aware
your paranoid piercing blue eyes followed me around the room
synth wash on mercy street
~
Fifty-five straight hours of nausea is the breaking point.
They are watching from all eight corners
with ten eyes open
you’ll think about this later.
Embrace the crippling paranoia,
anticipate the acidic aftertaste,
grit your teeth and bite your tongue,
nerve tree leaking sap,
this is the breaking point.
The handwritten pages filled with letters
of varying shapes and sizes
in direct ratio to the subject’s emotional pole
at that particular millisecond
indicates that this, beyond the shadow of a doubt,
is the breaking point.
~
when youve been awake all night
and the sun cuts through the airspace in halo shaped stratus gaps,
and you find yourself cautiously optimistic
you know it’s either going to be a good day
or it’s the smile that was the first sign of the apocalypse
dawning crawling from the tide tentacles raching and eye stalks pointing at your feet
dark purple neon streaks
post apocalyptic tweaking
disconnected thoughts, the escalator’s moving backwards now
power lines wrapped around your neck
standing with good posture 30 feet off the ground
this music is so beautiful, but I can’t get any air
vultures passing over the skylight in 30 second intervals, whats with all this negativity
I heard it and all of a sudden I smelled your scent, synesthasia
I’m feeling winds in a sealed cage, why is your face blurred
please let me see the real thing again, clearly
the tide’s coming in
get one more shot of the beached whale
~
shape shifting through panes of glass
eating off vertical countertops
twisting a phrase to the advantage of
tasting the eyeshadow
grey matters of the soul
grey matters of the heart
It’s no wonder you can’t make it through the forest alone
they are healing trees
strange people wear pruposes on their face. I don’t care anymore.
I know I’ll hear that word again. Smoke poured in the window.
Don’t go to the party, it’s a massacre.
sweating through my pores what I’m having trouble putting into words
a certain piece of the family is still alive on the exterior
so many meaningless phrases barked into my ear
so many jagged shards dragged along the surface of these youthfull years
coming on at a mile a minute
deadstop
come into my den tonight
we will consume the last
not one day has passed
~
