Sunday, March 27, 2016

Kill

Kill, kill, kill everything.

Kill the light falling on this page
like a false promise of warmth;
kill the news of a world in spiral.

Kill time, cruel time, ruthless time,
endless time, fleeting time, time
laying at your feet like a bored dog.

Kill hope, lazy hope, easy hope, hope peeking
like misguided blossoms in a snow storm.
Kill this, the need to reach out and touch,
say I am here, and you?

Kill that, the urge to call them, to hear them,
to assure them as only you want to be assured.
Kill it, kill it all, kill the want to live again, kill
the want to die, kill the want to be, to become.

Kill it and remain, not a reminder, just
a hollow shell mistaken for what was,
just an answer to a question that has
long ago given up on one.

(Originally posted on February 03, 2012)

Monday, March 21, 2016

Traumatique

It is, as such.
Long expanses, and then.
One after.
Endless-ness.
Falling. from.
Again.

It is, as it is to be.
Unfolding, after the fact.
Rolls of skin, and.
Incessant-ly.
Always, from.
It is—feel it!
As such.

Start again,
from where sentences flow,
from whence the clothes hit the carpeted blankness,
gingerly,
and then.

Start, from the end.
Skip all that happened,
and say, nothing at all.

Start from where it doesn’t need to be said,
from the night breaking off on the windshield,
shattering, renouncing,
boundless.

Start from after,
the return, the happy ending,
as if nothing.
Start.

(Originally posted on May 13, 2007)

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Interruptus

There was honking outside,
rare, but reminiscent
of other more vocal towns.

There was an image inside
of what you could see
in such a place.

There were footsteps and barking,
the sounds of my silence;
there was me nodding and moving,
if only for the sake of motion.

There is this never-ending floor
and you somewhere dying -
- are you breathing still?

There is this scar, refusing to heal,
itching like an absence...
If I hold my breath, would you feel it?
If I hold still, would anybody notice?

Somewhere else, something else,
another...
If I leave this unfinished,
would -

(Originally posted on November 21, 2011)

Friday, March 04, 2016

Myself to Blame

I only have myself to blame
for you, my victory, my downfall,
my need, my hunger, my flame...

I only have myself to blame,
hoping endlessly, as my mother
waits for my dad, against hope
for you to change,
for you to become
what I want, to be
somebody else...

I only have myself to blame
for this, the burn that is my life,
this lie that I insist on telling,
waiting, against the odds,
for me to become
someone I want...

(Originally posted on May 14, 2013)