The destruction is a struggle
but also a desire
and I long for it
more than I ever longed for
anything
in a lifetime.

It burdens me
i guess it's life
but then i think
it's only
myself
and every now & then
i have to get rid
of what's inside me
which means getting rid
of all the other selves
that insists on trying
to control my mind.

Sure, if all
Yer sorrows
Aren't fixed
Wit' a pill
Then fer
Jaysus' sake,
yer jus'
Not ill.

Once I met the moon
she used to be so reckless
but still bright & perfectly flawed
i don't know if she will ever
know about it
but i fell in love with her
in the very first moment
i lied my eyes upon
her shiny pale skin
i asked how she was doing
and she locked herself in the bathroom
i punched walls
ripped myself apart
cried
until there was no more tear
left within
and it seemed forever
until she got out
only to ask me
why i was like that
i'm so sorry, little moon
i can't be better & won't
ever
be the perfect
partner
because when you
destroy yourself
little by little
i die inside
and those dead pieces
come to haunt me at night
can't you just stop with the hurting?
i can't stand these ghosts anymore
i loved you, little moon
i still do
but i can't love the destruction
you drag yourself into
because once you're done with it
there will be none of me
left
to hold you tight
and say that you
still shine bright
like you used to.

Silent as a wall
i hear you crying past 2am
silent as a wall
i keep on being your pillow
even when the one weeping
is me.

Destruction looks like a statue
and i'm here
staring at it
with the eyes of a child
when they see a brand new toy
even when they own it already.

I deserve the ****
but then i think i don't &
then the **** becomes worse &
now there's nothing you can do
to believe you didn't
deserve it.

She paves the path
Of dynasties carved
With buckets of sludge upon back;
Bent, not unlike her mother’s limb,
But under shinier red flags,
Cloth coated, with lesser blood.

She’d had a hint of gray
She’d not had last time,
She had a newer limp
She’d not had last time,
Her ***** furthered from firm,
Reaching for the ground, a promise,
In years to be wed with,
And yet the underneath
Of it all remained as radiant
As any sun’d ever been;

And come the cloudy day she leaves,
Even mine own eye
Will remain far from dry
As I’d remember freshly cured bacon,
And her tender chopsticks offering life;
She’d saved me once, she’d save me again.

The mannequin faceless,
Clothed in gold
With hands pandering svelte,
Remains an admired inanimate,
Albeit, atop whispers to a girl,
A 4-foot flower 3-feet my right,
Fretting and stumped;
Extrinsic a label – “undesirable.”

The mannequin faceless,
Her and hollow –
A towering nose above, stands
Opaque ivory, scarred come
Synonymous eyes with a symmetrical
Soul, assumed plastic perfection
And more importantly,
Soon to be sale.

The mannequin faceless
Convinced her new friend,
Her lesser, lopsided,
And natural not-so counterpart
To consume,
“Eat me, “eat me,” “eat it all,”
And then, “binge some more.”

The mannequin faceless
SCREAMS,
“BUY!”  Amongst the other torments –
Born both fingers that can’t move and
The thumbs that shuffle, “One’s,”
To the girl that was never,
“Good enough;” so shared the
Tabloid’s mouth.

The mannequin faceless demands
And DEMANDS nothing less than to
Buy, starve, suffer and sacrifice
So that every “broken body,”
May embody polymer, and for a price,
A not so fair trade whilst
Considering old man gold,
The curator of conundrum
And the plastic he’s created.

Once i had a heart and
i played with it and
i molded it
into something that
people
just put in their
freezers
to lock 'em away
cold as ice
but how can
a heart
ever be useful again
if its insides
are frozen?