delay

little soul

likes to

vocalize

aches

dance

pain

she wants to

hold you

let you breathe

big heavy sighs

honey builds stories

tall towers

inevitable, a tumble

dreamscapes, imaginings

kinetic blocks of sound and colour

she builds them these

sentimental eruptions

that fall to pieces

they must

we all fall

to put and end to

these huge explosions

pointless

wouldn’t it be nice

eschewing sentiment and feeling

love is madness, chaos

suffering perspective

the pain could stop

but then, the pleasure goes too

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pain is only breath

eclectic electromagnetic
brainstorms swish into
motion every morning
into momentum
been programmed
to function at overcapacity
what do you mean
I need to stop
be unproductive not contribute
can’t not work what do you mean
I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe I can’t I need to be
alone in my room hold it in for
five-four-three-two-one
hold it inside for two and out
five-four-three-two-one
ever since I flew and
life got ripped from my hands
what I thought was control
on the surface, trying to remain
in tact, smiling in conversation
I function I’m ok,
this whole back and forth, expected
to show up
smiles and transactions
mentally breaking
psychologically drifting
into caffeine into
friends looking out for you
broken bird
pounce
wing flicking out
bone shard
sliding beneath skin
cracking, popping bone inside
like a broken piano key, part of me
to have for always
unless they cut me
my choice
dig into this
brokenness
put my heart, soul under
microscope, let’s see
how much I hurt
let’s see, how much
I can handle before I
sign out
how little I can go on before
I lose it completely
grasp on reality
ripping hospital bands
off of my wrist
goddamnit
don’t want another surgery
resist! resist! it’s a lesson!
must embrace it! flower child!
bullshit.
in denial, tripping
into this ether of unemployed nihilism
opinions torn
don’t fucking know anymore
been trying
anything
work, don’t work
work, work harder
break
make everyone happy
believe in yourself
harder
mantra: I am so much more
than scooping mac and cheese
I believe!
cracking open my body
a small stepping stone
to find stillness
forced to write
nothing left
but to put mind down
in words
forced to stop in a world
that does not
no more ignoring
the dull, inside ache
always wondered
what chronic felt like
whether I’d be able to handle it
if I’d need to take pills
it’s small
large, then small once again
like holding the breath
for two and then exhaling out
once again

jellyking summer

jerkin it off 

wide eyed 

to the sunrise

won’t lie

but 

I’ll hide mine

if you hide yours 

rose tinted frames babe

let’s not 

I’d rather 

get lost

down every road 

follow me

or don’t 

love is easy

we all know

I do strange things

attract strange types

can’t help but find 

the walls exhale out 

towards aquatic expanses 

I walk to the water

always towards the water 

where you feel 

disoriented like you’re not

quite where you were just 

a moment ago 

got an imagination 

take the Empress like a pirate

portals, pathways

if you knew the spirits

that mingled in my words

evil ways babe 

you’d have let me

run away long

so long ago 

Wander

duality dribbling
trying to disconnect
from the illusory circuit
cyclical, all of it
a matter of recognition
when I see the same teachings
dressed in dark shadows
and fanciful costumes
a preoccupation from
noticing the obscurities
clinging to the corners
like dangling cobwebs
a jumbled pattern is
what it all boils down to
we are what we do
and some things are a virtue
the wander will continue
we are not static
the feelings are
simply sensations
drifting inside and out
of a quivering fleshbag
the antidote is always
to drift from that place
from the monkey emotions
to find serenity in the elements
in mountains, in the forest

Wicked Game

I am on my hands and knees.
Bending at the heart of me.

Stop to catch a shattered inhale
Can’t get it inside
Of me fast enough.
Crisp, clean air.
I looked back and
I shouldn’t have.
The sweet smell
Of salt and trees, standing
At the edge of the ocean.
Dancing for the waves.
I drift.
The best parts of me, come
Out when everything else
Has been let go.
Keep running.
Slip into the abyss,
Of where is she now.
Who knows.

Hiding in the midnight of my soul.

The Headland of the Eastport Peninsula at Salvage, September 19, 1986

 

Dubium Sunshine

I try to hide the things I don’t want to see.
And if my mind goes crazy I will follow your lead.

The doctor’s knife
is mighty sharp
dipping into parts
of me,
Don’t cry ’cause
if you do,
I will too,
and that’s not going to
do either of us any good
now will it, sweetie?

And it’s funny how,
it’s so much easier
behind a screen
to have these talks
the words,
they come out clean,
we have time to refine
our thoughts and feelings
and thank god
we don’t have to deal
with facial expressions
or an awkward silence
in between

So she emailed me,
the time and day
when I’d show up
forgetting slippers and strip
down to my underwear,
using that knitted sweater
I look pretty in
as a comfort blanket,
and it’s been a long time
since I’ve had an Ativan
so that’s really nice
and using the baby IV,
that’s really sweet

Let the medicine
trickle into me gently,
I’ve spent enough time
thinking anything less
could actually hurt me
I shudder at that
creeping feeling
of needing,
how it found its way out
like a worm

The desire
to be caressed or
kissed on the neck,
I’m kind of glad that
He never got to feel
me wrap my toes
around his Achilles’ heel
it would have hurt,
to feel someone hate that

So now I can focus,
on the matter at hand
this process must be
done in solitude these
altercations of the heart
the slicing of that
which doesn’t serve me
petty liaisons are
the least of my worries,
And I’m glad,
when they put on the gas mask
and I’m happy,
to cut out another piece
’cause who needed it anyway

It’s just blood tithings, babe.

So thanks for sending this over
let me just fax a response
after I’ve cleared my head
I’ll just email you my blood work
and my heart scans,
print out a prescription
for opiates and yes,
I’ll be careful with them,
they are damn nice for that pang
though I’ll have to admit

And I’ll try to
forgive myself for all the
“I should have knowns,”
while I’m lying in bed
replaying scenarios, like
cheeseburgers on Valentines
sure I’ll be okay, even though
I have this nasty tendency
to faint you know
but off I go with no breakfast,
stay in bed and sleep,
and I know I repeat myself
when I drink too much it’s
like an anxious tick

The impending doom
of a knife, reminds me
that these organs are not
to be toyed with,
real heartache is not
something I need to deal with,
outside of the contraption
that’s been sliding around
inside of me, trying to
gather information
about the algorithms
of my heart beat,
and I really don’t need to
distract myself with these
haphazard romantic antics,
these fake pirouettes
I’ve been trying to dance, just to
impress nobody

So for now, I’ll allow
the scars and mistakes
They’ve made me who I am
even now while I’m
drifting out of consciousness,
I know that all of this it
happens for a reason,
So thanks for holding my hand up
to the scary part and letting me
deal with this on my own

Crazy I will follow your lead.

The Shogun Stayed Inside His Castle

 

I am drugs.
Chemical reactions exploding within me seeping
Through my vessels, dripping out of my eyelids.
While I sit in silence after
You told me I looked frumpy in this dress.

I get sick from feeling so severely.
My skull an open bowl brimming with
Stories spilling out beyond the edges of my sanity.
Wishing words from a bourbon drenched mouth
Didn’t have quite this affect on me.

You wake me at 4 in the morning
Feeling strange, like you can’t breathe.
My reaction numb with dreamy obscurities.
If these really are your last words
I hope that you’re choosing them carefully.

When infected by pathogenic strains
The skull comes dangerously close to the brain.
Like ingesting psychedelic fungi
Making prior perceptions mundane and illusory.
Reality is but a gaseous reaction bubbling in the psyche.

From this truth comes the crux of my writing.
My dependence on an altered reality and your disease
Brought us both to the base of Pneuma Mountain.
Your illness, you called it a gift, a time frame
It rekindles my urgency to pen the final apex scene.