Here I was thinking
I looked all dapper:
With my cream pants,
Cteam top with a woven stitch waver,
And my cream suit jacket.

My royal blue glasses
Shielding my eyes from the rays of the morning sun,
But a small nick to my pinky finger
Left blood stains a run…

We all walk around life
With our pains imprinted in our skin,
And sometimes clothing.
As much as we try to hide in,
Wash away impurities,
We are left stained --
With life.

Bloodstains staring back at me,
Illuminating every part warmly.
Blanketing the entire floor,
Ingrained into each pore.
Disinfect to a high degree.

i used to wake up with sore eyes and black bruises i've never seen before
i'd look for long cigarette butts half full beers and forgotten liquor drinks
i had two cow licks that stuck up like horns
i had thick cigarette smoke like peanut butter and puddles in the kitchen that leaked from the trash bags into the rug
i'd paste cardboard boxes and ripped up comic books together with my drawings
in permanent marker and scribbled edges of ballpoint pen and colored pencil coupled with
writings of philosophic schizophrenic machine gun word salad
that ran off the page and
onto the walls
i had slippers i'd worn out months ago and shirts i washed in the shower
with dish soap
i had flies that flew around in circles until they got smacked or fell dead
i'd climb up on the roof in the afternoon
throw bottles in the street and ******* the side
i welcomed the dirt the bloodstains and the deep cough
i loved it but mostly hated it
and i'll never forget it

Unfrozen, surviving in miles of silent wasteland
Somehow risen from cold to my feet, but not breathing
Am I flawless that I drift so lightly with a Western wind?
Or so flawed that I don't admit I'm desperate for coming home
The final night with my elbows on the throne
Laughing over longing after end to the infinite.
Beheld well with the highest intention to flatter you
Maybe I'll die in laughter when you realize I invite you to bitterness,
brittleness to the shattering for which I'll want you close
Because with another's bloodstains I can live alone
Using what I've siphoned to make my ill-advised scratches on tablets on tabletops.

blood-stained battlements stare,

once harsh white,

now, deeply dyed,

with our loss of innocence,

the pain is evident,

the sorrow obvious,

but the halo of hell alight,

forever burning,