au contraire

"weird dog there," he says.

"lol, it's nothing, i neglect to mention him anyways," they say, with my leash dangling off their wrist.

it's such a passé thing, a pet, a lover,

and each of them know they could find another.

bile, jealousy, acting out, chewing on your shoes

sometimes i wonder if you ever knew-

fast forward, flashback,

misconstrued words, and minor heart attacks.

i was a shithead then, all bark, couldn't bite,

vowed to never be that animal again, i'll,

scratch and claw and burn inside,

watching you from where i hide.

you deserve friends and adoration, 

jokes and exclamations,

but i will remain, a shaking tender beast, 

tired from the noise, sleeping at your feet.

burning flesh & sweat & chlorine

coughing fits like shards of glass

and breaths of air that never last

escapes from shells bubbles jars

fleeting thoughts walks in front of cars

have i had a tragedy more pure 

than futile ruminations on my own cure

for flesh and bone are built to last

the grey matter of my brain holds my past

one garbled and fuzzed

years of misunderstanding

how to cope with a crash-landing

no black box no record of woe

some missing scars some broken toes

proof is all that i held dear

it slips further from me year by year

(un)holy love

pastries from the supermarket
sweetness in the void
they are like a blanket
over all the noise
bits and bytes and
crushed audio voice calls
see you in a thousand pixels
lest its deeper that i fall
an unlikely place
a short & tall pair
goals that i work toward

a tank full of air
my safety and my ward
oh for my consistency
i push onward

not here

flowing mercurial

surrounded in the sky

my heart falls onto the path

ignorant passersby 

see you over the oceans seperation

local love and, local anesthesia

fallout rain, and kisses soft

touch me, hold their flames aloft

butane burning, scorching smell

oh, by god, youre just as well

killed a ghost, killed a future

pale dull skin, the ladder of veins 

the latter of it, invisibly scarred

i drop to the floor, and search for my heart

but she is not there

SHES NOT THERE ANYMORE

faded to dust, killed as i must've

forgotten her somewhere, and left her alone

wanting for something, but i'll always know

that the inside of me, IT WAS NEVER HER HOME

still ill

its horrible fucking reflection. on the inside of the cage, snapping at anyone after years of cruelty. 

i wish i could be sweet, tolerable, and run into your arms. safe, like a mother should be, how a mother should care.

but nothing really changes. i grow taller. i am bigger than you in stature. i am still a kid on my bedroom floor, so scared. 

picking ceramic out of the carpet. pushed and pulled so hard i get rug burn. kneeling on colored pencils and grains of rice. pressing my face into the corner of the walls. welts that don't last long enough for anyone to really notice. bruises and torn pages. nothing truly mine.

i barricade the door, i run away, i tuck myself into the smallest of places. 

but nothing can protect me like distance. i get a key to my own room. i am broken into. i am still a kid on my bedroom floor.

and i sob, lonely, accompanied by my radio and my reading. rapunzel in his tower. angel with clipped wings, withering from disuse. 

picking at myself, feathers and tears may fall, but are they mine? its just rain. i smile, brushing my tears away.

stir and wait 2-3 minutes

powdered coffee sludge, down my throat like sand, but my mood won't fucking budge.

now I've gone back to juvenile writings and scrawlings on the walls. cold burns to the cheeks, heat runs down my gullet. pushing the feeling away.

eventually back up it, onto the freezing sidewalk. my feeble attempt at a functional breakfast upended next to a couple frosty dandelions, holding onto life in a crack of cement. fuck. they're just like me

blame the music

watch what you say, you fool

when words don't mean enough

keep your mouth shut.

spending days in the depths of my mind

dim lights and dim soul

busying my hands, ignore the crawling rot

and its not an easy thing to flee

when all you wanted is death

but your heart yearns for life

living calm and simple and slow

slow love, so slow love

the animal muscle in your birdcage ribs does not want to die

it wont stop. it wont cease. it will try so hard to live for you it will kill you. 

the animal muscle in your birdcage ribs does not want to die

the animal muscle in your birdcage ribs does not want to die

the creature inside the tank of your skull does.

it wants to stop. the stress to cease. it will try so hard to live for you it will kill you.

but is it worth it? 

to continue

to stop

to wait

to meander on and push through

thorns and brittle branches 

out into the sea of grasses 

a clearing, a calming 

will you not just lay down to die there? 

is it not the same? 

is it really worth it to die with a beautiful view?

world is a stage

the burning hot shame

why would you think you could be like them?

put yourself aside, step back

your contribution is best done in the wings

its known you're not built for center stage

stage left, 

or stage right

why do you think you'll amount to that?

your work is of the sidelines

dust and debris contributing to the energy of brightly lit stars

be the best kept secret theyll ever know

setting up beams to hold a whole scene

take off that heart on your wrist, put it on ice

support support and don't choke on your own creations

crawling their way out of your ribcage, under your skin 

try to forget your roots, the nerves anchoring flesh to feeling

stare out to the cement walls and cobblestone, scream as loud as you can

no one made out of soft clay like you will ever come help

stained hands and aching bones

aching groups and stained streets

making you so different and so similar

it all blends into something grey

on the rails

my hands look dead today

tinted blue, stained black

feel dead today

the medication, making my hands stick

or is that just the nervous sweat

and my heart overbeating (overbearing)

or is it wearing three layers indoors

my ribcage could give way,

could cave in.

the thrumming inside of it,

acceleration to a collapse.  

we've made up (out)

of this mess before,

and we'll do it again.