Gulp

One glass of water until death,

Sip and gulp had the same effect,

I gulped…

I died of thirst in my later years.

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Thaw

It would hurt me to see that sun I’ve run from for so long,

…cold heart, a burning back,

A burning lack of visibility of what dreams would occur if I bound myself to my happiness,

I used to fear being happy.,

Searching corridors and springing around corners for the next disappointment,

That time more personal, that time harsher,

I would tremble with my inability to accept the rapid upheaval of emotion unearthed from my tormented past,

I would keep myself attached to my twisted upbringing and spin out of control for months on end,

I would often fantasize about the glory in the end-

To the swinging pendulums beating at my ribs.

 

I used to scream when I needed to be heard,

Poisoning my statements instead of polishing my words,

Unwanted attention struck my tender back like loose lashes of slave whips,

With each crack, I would weep in mind,

Crying tears of thoughts my actions would rebuke.

 

I…had a golden sun holding an unloaded handgun to the back of my head,

It wasn’t the truth in death but the fear of dying dead,

That made me turn around.

 

Petty Crime

She opens up like a gun shot wound anytime she’s the one to blame,

She prattles like a convict trying to escape her truth,

Anything less than our belief will cause her to shoot,

Clips of doubt in our minds to have us question what’s true.

She’s a dauntless fugitive unaware of her crime,

Three years on death row with absolutely no clue.

She never stopped to ask,

She only speaks to counter what ever reality passed,

She wants to be the contradiction to the system,

She wants to be the criminal til grave.

Moves

Despite the throes of shouldering malignant devices,

I am still fond of my resolve,

Spades of incessant onslaughts sought to drain my hope from me like blood to a grateful needle,

I have confessed my power to conquer the professedly impossible to the world,

I bested the wretched with flames and held again begotten peace in hand,

While terrors of the night rocked me in my sleep I found solace in the mental chaos and threw doubt to the dancing flames,

Hands burnt to char and wrists bruised with chain.

 

The embraces of tranquil relapse massage the trite irrationality-

Never beyond my grip of sanity,

Intelligence of oneself putting shields to the trying tyrant,

Armies in thought clashing blades with the beasts,

Possessing advances without defeat,

Again, and again into incredible escapes,

I have found my definition of what means emotionally safe,

I can no longer stand on fragile ground holding eternity in my hands,

This is a story of my triumph.

 

Days have stopped counting backwards,

The sun has stopped startling the bats,

The smell of stability no longer churns the morning stomach,

I am no longer hungry for love,

I am no longer blind to place,

I am no longer slung asunder,

And I am no longer ungrateful to God’s grace.

I am thankful.

Lice

I used to get beaten in my sleep from emotional dreams,

I would jolt up in cold turmoil and try to rock myself back to sleep.

 

I was never afraid to wet the bed with the tears taken from me,

Giving substance to the memories of unsightly abuse,

My eyes had no other use,

But to give life to my imagination of cutting my oppressor into two,

Or three,

I was never ever afraid to wet the bed…with the tears that were taken from me.

 

Years would pass,

I would…I would laugh,

The memories would last,

I could not would not forget,

There was no space for positivity to fit,

Space-less pieces of meat and shit,

Forced into a giant head,

Tiny lice’s proclivities to my bed…

 

 

Once the decade touched,

I wanted to move, but too much,

I wanted to get better,

I wanted to change the proverbial mental weather,

That I’ve keep for years,

That I kept tied intimately with my fears,

I hated their stain,

I could see it every time I experienced pain,

I wanted to kill everything I touched,

I wanted to improve, but not too much,

I couldn’t lose the person I thought I found,

In the mirror of yesterday staying into the presently unsound,

I wanted to win,

So…I did.

 

 

 

No Mar No To

He wouldn’t convince the time machine to take me back to her, I have only contempt for his refusal, and I would take his life,
With a spoon,
And a knife,
And eat the remains of a good mind, that of which kept me from her horrors, no feast, at least, I’d eat.
He talked to me about my tomorrow, and highlighted my recently dimmed yesterdays of discomfort and twisted harps, the discord she would further disorganize, and feed from the chaos that sanded my hopeless bones,
Much a feast, of gnashing teeth to a sullen beat,
Melodies of distress and undone promises she couldn’t keep,
It took her one-hundred thirty nine weeks,
To devour the whole corpse.
The time machine spoke to me, in a dream outspokenly it seemed…to have created a black hole which its gravity would pull and yank on my light-less soul into a future not yet.
I passed her pictures on the way, knocking over tables and frames,
Breaking glass and chains,
Tainting carpet with blood stains,
I no knowledge that the future would drag stiff, balling my black tank top with its grip,
Cutting my leg deep with the nightstand tip,
And insulting me the whole way,
Injures of my journey I’d thought never go away,
Enemies of my quest I’d thought to never sway,

I know lay in future’s arms,
Questioning why her heart beats so sporadically…

With Decision

I don’t want to be the reason she dies,
I would not be able to live with myself,
Two innocent souls, one transgression,
No, not again.

Vibrantly violent what I beheld,
What pain struck my chest,
What pain struck her chest,
It struck her worse,
It struck me best,
Relentlessly forced me to express-
My guilt for my actions impure…
While still unsure my complete intentions,
These actions, extensions-
Of what my subconscious would not release peacefully,
And as the mountain of disdain increased speedily,
I collapsed beneath its weight,
I broke her, and that is when I knew I could break,
Cold and still beyond the night,
Bursting into day,
My worries would come to stay,
Drag me to reality, and demand me to display-
My worst.

I would rue the next night’s coming,
Heart pounding outside my ribs,
To know I wouldn’t sleep,
Openly burdened by tribulations I couldn’t speak,
Dedicated self-hatred slander and slurs I couldn’t peep,
I would be the epitome of self-defeat,
Again,
Which means once I rose,
From the heaps of her I tried to dispose,
At a new nexus now with a decision only God knows.