what is left

You are not here.
And I am losing my will to breathe,
to move forward as I allow myself
to unroll at the seams,
careening forward into indulgence.
I am left with your weight
on my heart, your scent
crowded along the edges
of my body, teeth rattling,
breath heaving as I am gasping,
trying to fill myself full
of what memories I have
left of you
before they fail me.

Incomplete

I am awake,
fingers clawing along the edge
of my eyes,
breath a white fog rising,
twisting against the frost
upon the glass of my window,
my heart empty,
blood pooling along
the length of my spine
as I attempt to scream.
I am wholly incomplete
without you.

Comes to This

Please.
I don't expect you to understand
or even recognize the signs before you,
the burst of blue trailing across the wall
after the fight,
white berries buried in the snow
packed upon the drive,
crushed beneath the screech
of the wheels,
all while the clouds of this night
peal away slowly as the dawn breaks.
Still, I'm not going to tell you.
You can guess, run your knuckles
through my hair and pull,
press your lips to mine
and beg me to tell you
when we come up for air.
I hope it never comes to this though.

implications of this moment

11/06/12

god this is embarrassing.

i want you to touch me,

link your fingers through mine,

trace your thumb along my skin,

wrap your arm around my shoulder

and pull me close.

i have been left with my memories,

the trace of your scent on my clothes,

the heat of your body

and the weight of this moment 

descending upon me

as i realize the implications

of it all.

i want to see you so badly.

remember this

kiss me as i fall,
arms open wide, fingers
curved to catch the wind.
i'll let you bite down,
trace the rim of my lips,
suck the blood back
and peel the bruises
fresh off the underside of my eyes
in hope that you'll leave a scar
deep enough for me to remember this.

Damage It All

Shh.
I'll drift you quiet in the night,
kiss you back upon the face
of the mountain,
dry your tears and lie,
saying it's alright.
But you, your lips
carved in stone, eyes sunken pools
upon the surface
of the water,
you smile only for the pleasure
of someone I've never met
and I know
there's no chance for me,
to pry the corners of your body
open, lick you down
and wash the memories of another
man away from you.
So I bite my tongue
and the blood runs dear, sticky
and sweet, a sugar
coating to my words as I try
to slowly strip away your defenses
and damage the two of us
beyond all repair.

Make it Happen

07/13/12

I wish for you to bind
me clean,
peel back the layers of my clothing,
trace the underside
of my breasts and kiss
me slowly
before you pry me open.
Because I'll dream of your hands
branded against the bones
of my hips, fingers locked,
breath shaking,
mind reeling as I let myself
fall forwards into you.

I hope that I can make this happen.

Search for You

I will search for you,
my fingers clawing gently
on the underside of my ribs
as I attempt to open my body,
slice clean along the side of my lungs,
bite down till I bruise
the pink of my lips a deep purple,
staining my heart outward
with each beat and breath of my body,
measuring each second of my existence
as something alive.
I need you with me, on me,
carved deep along the marrow
in my bones, the beat
of a dull heart cupped
within my hands, blood spattered
up the length of my arms,
your name forever engraved across my body.
But this is fine,
even when nobody can see you,
as I become unravelled
at the seams, fingers digging,
nails clawing to open
the soft container of your body,
as if by this form of love
I could meld you to me.
As if I could ever find the will
to let you go.

Rise

I am free of you
as my flesh folds and knits
together over my bones,
red blood pounding,
a soft, shaky laugh escaping
as I slowly unfurl myself
and rise.

I am finally finished.

Writing For You

06/20/12

I am writing for you,
about you,
the beat of my heart on the line,
the collapse of my lungs
as I breathe these words
over and over.
I find I don't know how
to deal with it anymore.

Drinking the Storm

You know that I can taste the thunder, pull back my eyes, cross my lips and whimper beneath the slight chill that foams across the air. Because it's coming, the splatter against the pavement, the collapse against the windows and the thrilling hum of energy as I inhale.

          

But still, I don't think you really want to hear about that, my feelings about something other than yourself. I still wish for the cheap sensations of desire to kiss my lips and knock me backwards into the damp grass while gray clouds roll and boil above my heart.

            

I'm just waiting for it all to explode with thunder and let the lightning skim across my flesh, mar my surface and try to prove something. I don't know what though, I don't know what.

            

I need to taste thunder though, chew the lightning and drink the storm, knocking it all back with the third rate sensations of sensuality detained at the border, guarded and shot upon at sight. I need to let it go, fall forward, tumble down the hill, clutching the fragments of what little self-esteem you allowed me to keep.

            

I'll keep rolling until I hit the bottom and find the rain upon me.

Watching You

06/03/12

I can remember the way
I watch you,
eyes darting away to not get caught
as I check you out,
scrape the lines of your body clean
before rising up to meet your eyes
in a panic,
for I want to touch you,
kiss you clean,
straddle your lap, lace your fingers
through mine and allow myself
to fall forward into you.

More of a Poet

I think I’m more greedy

than you can imagine,

spread out and dyed,

smothered in the freshly baked pages

of imagery gone wild,

swinging out across the sand.

I want to swallow and taste

the bitter hue

of words gone sour

in the library of our thoughts composed,

boiled, shredded and baked

in the oven of our small apartment.

I’ve got the sensation

of all your angles and panes

stamped across my tongue

despite my actions of trying to

scrape myself clean of you

with a bloody knife.

I’ve got you printed deep within

the pages and painted

across my skin,

despite my horror.

I’ll never see your grimace,

your smile, your laugh

carved and curled around the words.

I’m expecting myself to write fantasy

in which you don’t exist,

the wall are white

and the sheets are clean.

You’re more of a poet than

I am though,

for I can still feel your presence

moving inside me.

Confession

06/17/12

There's the gap in my chest
as my ribs are slowly pried apart,
my lungs gasping for air,
my mouth dry as I try to swallow
my heart down deep into my chest
before it bursts.
I can't believe I said that
to you.

Fall

06/09/12

I want to fall,
unbuckle my arms,
stretch out my fingers,
and feel my bones snap against the wind
as I become elastic, sinking
downwards beneath the bruised
undersides of my eyelids,
heavy with the tears I haven't managed
to shed yet.
But I'm scared to saying this,
spreading voice to these desires,
afraid that if you get in the way
I'll grab hold
and I can't ask you, I can't
ask you the burden
of catching me.
Not when I don't know how far
I have to fall.

That Night

What if I could taste

the broken memories of that night

against my tongue,

sticking to the roof of my mouth,

fighting the forbidden desire

to swallow,

to assimilate you

within me,

buried within the squirming

silence of desire,

swallowing with a gulp

the fantasy you've brought

the dreams you've played,

spun around my neck,

designed in the wish to garrot,

replacing all my fantasies

with your reality,

crying, sobbing,

crawling through the sheets

and falling off the bed

with a clatter of bones

as they break

all connections between...

Catching Me

06/12/12

I am not asking for anything,
not the weight of your hand
in mine, the trace
of your breath along the back of my neck
or even your smile.
Because I am content
with how it is,
this distance, the searching glances
from the corners of my eyes,
your name not even mentioned
as I run my pen along the paper,
afraid as if I could jinx myself.
I'm scared to lean against you
because I want to, need
to fall
and I can't ask you the burden
of catching me.

One Thing

I want you to know one thing
about this
about me
about how I feel about you
but more importantly how I wish you would feel about me
because if you smile then laugh, say that I'm great
say that I'm funny
say that you love me
even if I can never become your lover
so please, can you humor me for a day
for an hour
for a minute
for a second frozen in time
pretend that you love me to the end of the world and that your love will never change or waver
pretend that you are mine
because I am already yours and have been long before
you've known it
yet this is wishful thinking
a dream that I can't escape from and sometimes I wish it was over.
Yet I want you to know this
before this dream has ended and we go back to reality
know that I love you and pretend that you love me
just for a second to humor me.

Then we can go back to being
friends.

Bald Moon

You know I dream of a
bald moon,
pale in the remnants of a sickness
floating on the surface of the skin,
frothing within the veins
and piling high behind my eyelids.
I'll pool in the blood,
mark 'cross the darkness
as I step forwards across the hollow bridge
while the soft
sick sounds of reality snapping
echo around my flesh and
through the hollow curves of my bones until
I'm dying
again and again
within the sheets of a murder,
all white,
all damned,
slowly smoked apart and served
upon glass dished with the semblance of
your screams.

You know I wish that this
was over.

bleeding

you're bleeding from an open wound
as the fluids slowly mix and grind
with the dirt and charcoal gravel that coats the ground
just like a lover's blanket
as you lay there, sprawled across the cement
arms open to the sky waiting
to drink the rain like medicine and watching
the soft candy of the clouds crawl
across the sky and slowly dissolve
beneath the crimson velvet tongue of the sun
as it plunges back into
the caverns of its mouth while swallowing the ground whole

you're bleeding as the skin peels back
showing the red dyes of passion
oozing down your legs and covering
the marred bruises of a forced love
that are springing from your broken flesh as your heart
beats against your broken ribs erratically
playing the memory of falling hard
and landing backwards on the rough surface
of the ground over and over again
creating an unwanted death bed
as you lie there, hands open to receive the grave
awaiting you

you're bleeding from an open scar
ripped right across your chest
as the soft thumping of your cells
entangle themselves within the heart
and try to squeeze the remaining feelings
that are floating on the surface of the blood
in their coagulated pools of regret
as it cools and pales
slowly draining from the soft petals
of your cheeks in bloom
with the soft scarlet of betrayal

you're bleeding as the flesh is ripped
apart and shredded with
the desperation of a mad lover
seeking his revenge for what he thinks is right
and worth acting on
measured by the wrong values of broken pain
being gently soothed by the smells and taste
of the sunset pooling against your skin
as those silver tears go gliding down
the bloody matter of your face
in all its agonized glory
under the pressure of abuse

you're bleeding from an open wound
as you lay there waiting
to die
while the sun explodes above you
and all the colours begin to run together