Was the equivalent
Of piercing my lips
With a fishing hook
Only to rip it out
And leave my mouth
Full of blood
I want to rake my fingers
Across your brain
And with your grey matter
Under my nails
I will spit seeds into
So you can feel the consumption
Of a hate you did not sow
Salt of my skin.
Dust of my bones.
the ghost of you.
Bound for the sake // of beauty,
For the sake // of being wanted
Cotton bandages can only constrict so much
Before the threads begin // to unravel
I have soaked myself in herbs and blood
Have fit a foot of yours and mine // into a single shoe
With three inches // to hold us both
From heel // to broken arch // to toe
Dance upon these feet,
These crescent moons upon a stage—a lotus
And dance a story:
Spins and leaps translate our meeting,
Followed by a spotlight’s blinding flare to make us stumble
Off comes the shoe // revealing ugly truths // once bound beautifully
My shattered feet unfold from the bandages
And you are subjected to my raggedness
Your eyes drawn toward the audience
A soliloquy of sorts
Seeming to say:
Look at this contorted liar
this twisted thing for which I have no love
You take the exit and the spotlight wanes // to a new moon bulb,
The audience shuffles out // forgotten tickets in their place,
And I am left to lie bare before the empty seats,
Your phantom voice ricochets // throughout the halls
A cacophony of sounds
In this emptiness
Broken records scratching and crackling old love songs
We could’ve called ours
These feet, which cannot walk // made bags of gravel
These bones, which cannot mend // fill me // but cannot support me
I cannot bear the ghost of us—lest I
Become a fallen star with:
As the curtain finally falls
I ask you:
Play your trumpet in the pit of my chest
Just the brassy cries of an instrument I played once, too
Limbs of God
I just want to be held in the hands of God
Cradled and rocked in the arms of His,
With such ethereal tenderness and kindness
That elevates me to an aerial view over
All of my mountains of botheration.
I just want to be led by God.
Wear his holy sandals that'll keep me on the
Straight and narrow even if I'm coming
Straight outta Compton.
I just want to hear God.
Put on His ears that listens to
heaven's language, angelic dialects and
I just want to see God.
Look at the world in His perspective, causing
The Paradoxes of oxymorons
To paradigm shift.
Changing everything that I thought about to
be true, valuable, precious and important to
Be the exact opposite of that.
Give Me A Year
I cannot describe what a smile looks like.
Nor can I recall the sound of a laugh.
Too familiar with straight faces and unending rules.
What I'd love is one year to myself,
then I'll do what you tell me to do.
One year to do the unthinkable.
Break tons of rules so people would see me as original.
I'd laugh, shout, dance, act insane,
anything to be called a wild child.
What was once all in my head,
you'd see all around.
No more tiptoeing around
or head shakes of disapproval.
Just one year to be free.
Can you give that to me?
You can bound me to chains
and make me scrub the floors.
I'll serve you to the end and more.
give me a year.
Give me a year,
so when I'm yours,
I can look back on that year
and smile inside as I do your work.
Existence, Not Life
not able to relate.
Life has become
of the norm.
To The Masquerade.
Weave in and out
She came to realize,
it was not that she needed one
to make her feel complete,
she wanted one
to make her not feel empty
With eyes Full
With Random Aces
For a winner
Who takes It all
The moonless night Unfolded Into tunnels across an extinguished Sky Smeared with Madness Life was concealed With dying Hope And tears that flooded It rained white acid from fallen angels And Embers Burned the dirty caskets And With despondency rising from its lava core The Earth was shattering for Whore desire The Blood-orange fire smelled like death It exhaled heavy over barren land The last star dropped and was lost to oblivion And As I sit here trembling my poison grows I drink brown rust to dull my Pain And birthed from you my Sorrow weeps