Scar

This morning, I let the sunlight wash away remnants of you
elements of you clung to my skin, my fingernails bloated with scrapings of you
I want to be drowned in a sea of reason and be rescued free, salt water, grain grass
I want to be clean.

Two days I soaked in you
felt the weight of you on my chest, in my hair, behind my eyelids
I saw you: on the countertops and the wrinkles in blankets
empty cups on tables, a marked void.

For once, I saw a completed you like leaves in wet sand.
I have you whole in absence. I have you lined in shadow.
And you said, tight lipped, "This is Nothing, Nothing".
I see your voice waft high, salty smoke.

I think it's written for me to remain at the edges of you,
shaped to sit at the corners of you
to ride at the creases of you.
I am molten, molded to follow your light

3:55

Tonight, at someparty somewhere with somepeople, we rested
in eachother's gaze and sifted. Parts of me were at the surface that I had never seen
and I hoped that I saw those in you, but you can never be sure.
But tonight the wind tells me to imagine things I never have.

I foolishly asked people on the perimeter what they saw, Expecting a looking glass
into things I hadn't seen, thinks I hadn't thought. Where were you when I was broken
into shards at your feet--are you lost? You and me: an endless shoreline.
Tonights hopes have many folds, and I look for them in the curves of you.

Somehow everything I write
Turns into an ode to you. Pathetic things I wish you'd read and see me on the pages.
and it's silly because they're silly and we're silly
And tonight becomea a series of sighs from twisted lances.

I have some Facts: When you leave a room, I want to follow. Desperately, fervently.
I count seconds on branches and streetlights to the appropriate time
without you feeling crowded. And this too, is sick. We know.
Tonight taunts me. I am cold amongst a flame, drained of what you needed.

Translate me: look for her here.

I ran from you. Undrunk to songs unsung
twisted. A crown upon two heads
hid from things too familiar to be comfortable
too chafing, raw skin on shades of grey.


And I hear her voice among the pines
clear tinny fragments, sirens wail
plastered on steps and rusty nail beds, you
teeter here, pleased to show, skin to skin.


I watch you how I want to be watched
open and disbelieving and hopeful and haunted
eyes follow your gaze, down a throat, up a thigh
lined with smart truth, lusty innocence,.

Intosinister

we come to you in your human beds
pick hands to wipe you clean
foreign concepts float above us, hovering
but we are not governed by the confines of flesh and bone.

what is your mind? fields of useless craving
we try saving you, en caving you
prevented by velvety loyalty, soft sorrow
this is alien to us, we are alien to you, hopelessly breathing.

simply: we must take you. your time is gone
potential and windowless rooms await
there is no discourse between you and fate
we wipe the slate. strip your fecund poise.

teetering now, you shudder. Hear that
sliding slipper-typhoon you trap within
the spirit of you.Coined in mysterious consonants
and you remain ever enshrouded.

come home. you body anew. leave back these worries
do what you were born for and take strength in what you should
these earthly things but weaken you. redouble on doubt like useless frontier lines
we are who you are in the trenches, you survive by naught but breath.

Illuminated

I could compare my feelings to water cased in glass. Swirling and moving against some unseen barrier.  I could say that all I've wanted to do for two years was look you in the eye and be bare, hold truth. Or maybe that I've been trying so hard to keep everything so cool, so chill, non-committal, unattached--that I've forgotten what it could be.

I feel like I'm a scavenger, picking up pieces and riding on coattails. I have broken shards of you lining my pockets, I stick my hands in sharp edges to remind me to feel. And this is what I live on. Gleaning just enough from smiles across hallways, fleeting grazes. Surviving, just barely.

The though of this (you, me, us, we) being forever the way it is makes me sick. It wakes me up when I thought I was awake already, pushing my eyes uncomfortably open.  I want to done, with you, with this. 

I understand what you meant when you said you can't help it. 

You are not the best person I've ever met. I could list every terrible awful thing you've done to my knowledge--I probably have, in fact, in some attempt to regain my sanity. I get words of caution and pitying looks every time I say your name because they know the danger of you.  I know as well: you tumble out of my mouth like sand, like marble and I let it. I let you fill me up beyond my limit and push me. 

I guess this is to remind me of stasis; maybe I'll break something and have to put it back together. I doubt it will be you, nor do I think you'll notice if it was. This is pathetic and sickening. and we are less than human. All I want is to be seen by the right pair of eyes. 

To Be Read, Frantic.

Some combination of nicotine and cannabis and alchohol
Pushes me through the sun to get to you.
I drink my sorrows. Bass beneath the blind
Tip me from that jar of potent brew.

Shaded. Not prideful, no curtains
Kiss me beneath the slide of sweeping fate
Find me so slovenly, stones throw
Scratches hard on water, slate on slate.

I am not made to bend but I curve straight lines for you
Shattered resolved melted into snow
And you are a wall, a mountain, an ocean
Slipping through me, bliss, unsteady flow

I do not want this. I don't want you.
Fickle gazes across brows, cast aside
I can't have you parcelled , appease me with pieces
Warrant me whole to you and I'll abide
.

Take my hand, take my blood, take me and slather
Spread me across your soul til we are one
Weaving passion ascended, holy flight
Sparks of light embedded behind the sun.