I stood in the day
outstretched arms
as I stared directly into the sun.

I could feel its life giving aura
bounce off me,
not penetrating my brittle heart
and often times

I'm ready for it to end.

What would it be like
to die on the vine?
"You spin and you drown
searching for a rhyme."

"I can't live with
or without you."
Well then,
all things being equal,
why wouldn't you pick
saving us
over ending us?

And suddenly
Flash...
What was uncertain
black and white
Was now certain
brilliant colour.

Suffocate the children
leave all outs behind.
Run your fingers through
my ****** hair
lips to lips
to who knows where?

Children outgrow you,
it's inevitable.
But isn't all you ever wanted,
was for them to be better than you?

Now they are.
Now they've flown.
Out living in their
own new homes.

Follow instructions,
you know then well...

...obsolete
   ...outdated,
...erase
   ...destroy.

I still wait for you
I still long for you
I still think of you
I still want to talk to you
I still want to smell you
I still want to touch you
I still want to *******
I still want to love you

I still want you
and drop tears that will not stop,
at the end of the day.

She's just a little girl.
Please, just leave her be.
The way she looks at me
shows me eternity.

So leave her in peace,
this cold-bed night alone,
for sure her heart knows
which way is home.

You're moving out,
a bit at a time,
coming back for everything,
except me.

My stomach turns like
the violence in your eyes
spun around dizzy upped
lost in the love we have
for each other
when everything else
wants to destroy us.

Empty like your love for me
poured out from a broken vase
that you considered
throwing out.

I still turn to talk to you
I still expect your smile
I still hold on to your soul
I still see the rest of my life
in you.

And so...

I'm still fighting.

A gradient of gravel
rough, coarse,
thins,
and the asphalt cries
tears of tar
where you once parked.

"You are stronger than you think,"
she said,
not realizing
my situation
only came about
because of my weakness.

Cradle, my love, in my arms
and hear the wind whisper your name.

Open your heart,
the world is cold enough already.

The storms that have
spread their grey fingers across you are such a burden.

Listen to my nursery rhyme
that drips from my lips,
and as you feel the
heavy comfort of my hand
on your head,
sleep.

You've spun your pretty blonde hair
and now you just look away
and I'm left, stranded
driving off into
a neon horizon.

My lips hang from the edge
of your lips
for a moment,
then meet...

(My soul is blinded by you.
My heart is only for you.
My love will not fail you.
My mind will not destroy us again.)

...and part.

Here I was,
writing
the beauty of you
the beauty of us.

The unwritten holocaust
redacting facts
written in
my mind
written on
my heart.

Just before bed
I turn out all the lights
and for a few moments
I am bathed in darkness.

In the moment before
I turn the bedside light on
I imagine you'll be there
In bed
smiling,
in love,
when the light comes on.

But you never are.

And this nightmare-come-true,
tallies on another day.

I would have moved the very crust of the Earth
to save you from myself.

I could only want one thing for you and that's
happiness, even if it's without me.

I can stare into this bottle of
whiskey in the jar
until the end isn't different
but we play pretend,
like it's okay it's not okay...
...okay.

And so I'll release you
but I may need to release myself
as well.

I cradle my head
like the Old Guitarist
the leather of this couch
a cold and dead reminder
of your flesh
which I would feed on
in this very spot.

I'm day dreaming
as you night dream
and I can only
imagine what inverted blessings
have I done that now
reveal you to me,
sleeping,
away from any problems,
only
innocence
and
beauty remain.

Like a child
you sleep
worriless and innocent
fist under cheek
breathing sweet
baby's breath.

I look at you,
and you are twelve again,
before time took her from you
before he betrayed you
and I only wish you
this peace.

My tears
can't save you
but I hold you near
in them
like a child.

We are more than this.
The evidence?
Those many memories,
for example, this:

The never-ending date
in which at about 7:30 A.M.
your legs opened
like I was returning
to the eternity of death
through your gate-of-life
warm
soft
and wet
crying for invasion.

I knew there was no escaping you.

I
am
nothing
like
my
dad.

"What will my parents think?"
she whispered as his eyes flashed red.
"They won't even know you're dead, "
spoke his venom just outside her head.

Brittle flesh
Delicate hair
Cloth on mouth
Lack of air

******* and your righteousness.
******* and your heart.
******* and your pretty head.
You were dead from the start.

My brilliant past
has constricted down
from a vibrant family life
full of
love
smiles
hugs
support
memories
unconditional

down to a bare leftover remnant
of all that was.

And my tears over this
and my cries of

"I want my family back!"

into the black

mean nothing
miles away
from what doesn't even exist
anymore.

I was your first,
but more importantly,
I want to be your last.

The thing you begged for
and were gladly given
has turned
and you have bitten the hand.

Your Mother died
at only thirty,
when you were just
thirteen.

I'm sure you've always wondered,
and so have I,
whether you would live longer
than her.

Turns out,
you died at thirty,
too.

Straw-colored veil
falls naturally into itself.

She smiles,
not knowing its power.

Little bones etch the flesh
and quickly clouds are parting,
laying out their symphony
of rain upon this tightened roof.

In her fragility
she shines,
so strong.

Expedite my end
bring it to a close
the new me that deserves to be
is something I'll keep close.

The sap dries not so hard,  
sticky to the sweetness
of your maidenhead.

Stroked away like
paint peeling, yellow in its curls.

Your face never wanted
what it said to give.

And I was left
spinning spinning spinning
into what could have been,
but luckily,
is not.

I've lived for the taste of your
flesh, wet with desire
a mess between your legs,
lapped up like a dog
unworthy of worshiping you.

I have prayed at your temple
white cream formed from your lips
engorged
I enter you
and never
again
are my prayers returned.

Distanced distractions
now too close
arrange my Catopaxi,
inverse flow
the molten snow
from every crevasse
to the waiting sea.

Wouldn't it be easier
if life
made more sense
than that
last line?

You should have
hit the light switch
as you left, cursing me.

Give me succor
Fill my heart
Let me pray here
where

the only thing more bald
than my tongue
is the *****
it caresses.

How could it not be
that this branch
I've clambered out onto
would hold me,
but instead it lured me
false pretense
to climb further out
until it has now snapped
dumping me
into the carnivorous jungle
below.

Right back there
in the basement
dark,
Dark Crystal on the television.

Right back to age six.

It's funny how betrayal
will nuke you right back
to the Stone Age:

No comfort.
No relief.
No touch.

No touch...

And so I sit
six years old
and watch
this movie
again,
alone.

Ocean-sized my arms wide
taking pictures of a happy girl,
washing away in the tide,
the water split at sun rays,
sand was beneath your feet
oozing up through the toes,
pulling you longingly outwards
as the water slid by
and back out
to where it came from.

When I was sitting at home, considering suicide,
you were ******* someone else.
When I was too nervous to even go outside,
you were ******* someone else.
When I was staring down the barrel,
you were ******* someone else.
When I was needing love and protection,
you were ******* someone else.

And when I needed my
wife,
soul-mate,
friend,
lover,
more than ever,
guess what you were doing?

I could bring the blood
of a thousand sacrifices
spilling entrails
through the fingers
just to hear
you call me
by My name.

I will not serve this
weak heart.

I saw you out in the water
thought you were waving,
but you have been
drowning.

I'm swimming out now,
I've realized my mistake.

I'm going to pull you ashore,
or drown trying.

Some words from those most close
but nothing from the one that mattered most.

The one that could have filled the holes
he left when he left.

I've cut you off like an extra arm,
something useful at times,
but mostly just in the way.

And sometimes I look down at it
on Father's Day,
and wonder why
I ever let
you in.

So now I've severed my phantom limb
made your death in my life permanent
and with losing you from my life
I regain it.

Your lips taste like gunmetal
and I'm a waste of time
and energy.

So I held her down
under my tongue
until she
fired her life off into my mouth.

Picasso on the wall
intricate patterns and raw shapes
leave the message I always
wanted.

Disintegration
to
Reintegration

I should've loved you better
And I'm sorry for the love
you gave so easily and I neglected
caught up in my sickness
and this ******* disease
which took me away from you
and now we don't know
where we stand
and my feet
and soul
are crying.

A cunning girl
who knew how
to get exactly
what she wanted
at the time.

And the wind is yelling
through the absent leaves
and like a child
I am afraid
and you are not here.

Your body will never speak
the same language.

No one will ever be the tongue
of you at my root
drenching up
to the tip.

An act of supplication
and worship
that has left me
an atheist.

****
****
Me
You
Give
Receive
Dominate
Submit