my last shot, i swear, man.

Sweared it’s my last shot. Promised it was. It was the electric flow to my conduits buzz. Been left alone, shadow unfollowed me. but, I got 40 ounces that say I’ve done everything but bottle it up. Hairs falling out, play a game, (because I’m so ugly, I’m fucking shot.) Count the follicles, ‘she loves me……. she loves me-not’ Proudly logical. Gladly pick you apart. Sadly, and single handedly pulling the strings from your heart. Stitching compartments, living fancy. livid and darkness. Living apartment, shelling angry, felt the shift in you when I put my fist through the door.   Sometimes, I listen to the pauses you take, the breaths, and silence in every word set astray. I don’t listen to you, or me when I talk, it decays. I just change my demeanor, and dock. It’s okay. It’s a struggle between me and my ego. A masturbation, heat sensing. I’ve feel in love with the inaudible between the masqueraded pretenses. I lost track of the bridges I burned.

SELSUN BLUE

groove to the classics, velveteen smooth, devilish antics. Never seen through my pirate themed ruse, or the skeleton captain. x-ray embellishing, developing cancer. The elephant in the room, and the rest is in captions. Subtitled. And the lexicons added, for your pleasurable view, gotta penchant for adlibs. Subdued, to my intelligence, say hello to the masses, yeah, it’s just you, some gel tablets and the medicine cabinet. They’re like a presidents cabinet. Group of advisers  the vicodins the vice president, the alcohol the confidant. Loose on the side. Hide the bruises you captured. A group of counselors, grouped into family shit ending in -cillin. the chancellor, consultant, all there to mentor you. Chilling. In the living room, like it was meant to instill some impressionable feeling. Dandruff building, scratching till it bleeds where’s the Selsun Blue? Telekinetic view, light a match until it ceases. And recedes till the black hits my thumb. Black from the burning. The burn’ll bring me back from the dumps. Marvel at stars, watching the tv watch me from the sofa. Turn on the TV but drown it out with the garbage disposal. MY credit score is pristine, except, I crashed my car last year. Geico could save you fifteen percent.

close to regret

He doesn’t feel close to anything
Friends are placeholders for emptiness
He sings to himself while watering plants

or he wants to. He doesn’t even grow plants

Does thing he regrets, does things he doesn’t
Regrets them both. Regret that he’s done it
or did it, or was, or wasn’t.
Heartbroken. For what?
How does a heart go from golden to rot
I look at pretty faces, just hoping for something
Laugh at the way people conduct themselves
Conducting in stealth.

Ask for help by pretending I don’t need it
I don’t.

Just need me some hope.
Establish a ground rule, establishing sound.
Down on his self.

Doesn’t brush his teeth today

Memorizes the Braille his plaque forms
Doesn’t care, kills themselves in the routine

Looks at his friends smiling

Sunshine weather is a chance to bathe himself 
in sun rays, stretch his back and fingers in the air

ugh. Why? Ugh. Sighs. Disagree with your opinion

don’t even bother to tell why not

doesn’t matter
don’t support any of the million things people fight for

I don’t care

my war is up here in my head

it’s a tiny platform where millennia takes place

I can’t even breathe

Making non humanly noises, like a puppy moaning, upset at the sectional voices, that put him here.

Eyes watering. Sore throat. Sucks

tired and upset. The imprint of my

body in my bed has become art

I don’t even drink, or do drugs, to

bored to

become a

worse version

of

his self

at the doors

im in love with you, but I don’t want to be.
I blame you for my woes, but it isn’t you
you were just a tiny percentage
a smidgen of hope I hung unto, the glimmer
barely, there like the painting of glitter, the spark in the thinner edges of my mind
there was a hug you gave me once, at the step of your door, after you came
back. I knew you so well, I had a gift for you, I forget what, I want to say flowers. Your silhouette marched behind the glass doors. you didn’t know it was me. I’ve been messaging you, tiny hints of my departure, which you didn’t totally pick up on. You opened the door. And I uttered words, that didn’t matter, like “why didn’t you-” you hugged me. And I kept asking you the question. – this is important, because, I didn’t want to be overwhelmed by emotion, so I verbally tried to cut out your overwhelming intimate touch, just a hug, by spewing this verbal vomit. You hugged me
harder at the step of your door. Squeezing me, almost, but with this passionate reflex that, put me so far into you, I still remember it as if it happened a few hours ago. It’s been two years. It feels like a few fucking hours. But I know it’s not. What’s funny, to support this passage is, people ask me how long I’ve had my hair cut, I say “a few months” it’s been over two years. My tracking of time is just lost, like that hug commenced this time warp where im sucked into it. Today a coworker pat me on the back to wipe some dirt off. I didn’t want them to stop patting me, it’s like any real interaction with humans, something as simple as a pat to wipe off a patch of dirt, reminds me of your fucking doorstep. Now when I hug, I hug hard. I hug people hard. I want people to remember these hugs, maybe I could just give people the same feeling as you did and still do to me. Picasso, I would pay Picasso billions, and I would pay whoever could resurrect him even more, just so, we can go back in time, hell, you rose a man from the dead, so we’re going back in time, so he could photo frame my face, the moment your arms wrapped around me, in your black coat, I never seen you in. and Id want him to paint my face. Id want to see my face in art in that moment. it would be called “broken heart”, because in that moment my heart wasn’t broken, it was mended, melded. Sewn. it was just the following months, years- well minutes in my world that broke it again. I wonder if anybody has any slight innervation about what I feel on a daily basis, over a damned, hug. God damn, you. I just, wish, I could just breathe again.

Explosives can be a growth experience

tired of decomposing, dried up, my dreams are dozing
my body has peaked the opus, through godly retreat.
I hope. trying to feel a pulse, pariah that feels opposed
pinching my gripe, controlling. picture my mind in solace
pitching and writhing, gritting and grinding my teeth to focus
witch-doctors reveal a poem, my palms have been reading growth
exhausted. my beings broken. loathe signs that concede to smoke
I need the tar to feed compulsions. exhaust that secretes emotions.
tyrants as deacons, posing; goliath as people cloaking
a lion in sheeplings clothing, a tiger that feels repulsed
about the lines that he sees his coat in. why do i feel insulted
sonnets revealed in quotient, to qualm this conceited ghost
but while i sleep, i know that, the mind is a demons crows nest
fire that feeds ferocious, piles of sheathed explosives

CAMBRIDGE

fire place with tourettes. pop and crackles in depth
drunkenly asking questions I wouldnt dare. I was shy
recherché brunette, with curlicue braids in her head
there’s a reason wine glasses are in the shape of a Y
fork in the road, left or go right, slicing tension with knives
I went left, it felt right. spooning you cus’ the etiquette’s nice
drinking the truths I fed you, intoxicated with lies
sedated and high. i’ve contemplated for help
what kills you isn’t the virus, it’s the inoculation itself
it’s what helps you, and what hurts you; it’s complicated as hell
whatever. that isn’t what I wanted to say
I wanted to go, but in jest I wanted to stay
it’s getting awfully late. capturing arguments offside
cured by clever wording, Cambridge-Oxford alumni
defunct and debased. aim the hair and the trigger
selfishly enamored with death. date at 8, before dinner
ignoring the nose bleed as I stare in the mirror
tighten my neck-tie. debonair of elixir
ignored the pain, hailed a taxi to a chain up in Gloucester
took off her pea coat, pulled up her chair, and with posture
stayed after pay. After lobster. Chatting crucially after
doodled on napkins. flirty exchanges on contours
draw a monster for me. now.. what makes it a monster?
Voodoo and magic, pin the needle on the doll
Incognito. High libido in the stalls.
torpedoed, and we fall. Mistaking distress cause i’m loyal
disrobing attempts at joy. sex as a crutch to enjoy you
aware, but yet not so. picked up on the influenced behavior
clues like, you were nice to me, but were rude to the waiter
apprehensive as creatures; egotistical shroud we bestowed
to, jealous of the fires made when I was set out in the cold
mistakes are subjective. practicing repetition til’ death
like a photo out of focus is a blunder, but ten are a trend
ambien, ambiance, ambulance.
a picture of you in a locket near my hearts strings
open it up. learning to stop looking for happiness where i lost it

Fireworks

Dreams and reverie boasts
Roasted with pearly green chimerical gold
God Delusion. Hallucinating a miracle told
Where lightning strikes the conscious
Lively minded. Constant.
Smile by a goddess
Where perfectness unfurled by Pangaea
Curvy hips, sangria and rooftops
Inebriated in a sea. with a jukebox
Charismatic, dispelling drama. adorable
gospel sings for the saga approaching
Americanah and rooted, salsa and dance
Savannah beauty, with a lot to command
sailor of wisdom, a body tailored for rhythm
samba routine, enigma. for her frolicking waist
Marvelous taste. Whiskey and fruit wine
Yin and yang in spirit. Spirits and moonshine
Clamoring percussion, fireworks on the eve
ten seconds for eruption, heart on her sleeve
little black dress, static libido
attracted me. magnetic tuxedo
countdown in Manila, 3 seconds to go
loud sounds pound now, as we disrobe

I didn’t want to believe it

Im sitting alone at the cosmic stump.
Sipping my soul & I’m Vodka drunk
Thinking of goals. I’ve not have done
Fission control. visit me in my head
Cataclysmic logarithms. -picture dreams that are dead
Bickering silence, word by word I fell in your haiku
only heard what you wanted when I tell I love you
Nervous, respond. I fell in the lust pool
mouth of sin, out of breath
a spell was cast on my lungs too
she promised me passion, she promised me endless
a synonym for forever. All I got was a toxic expansion
mantras to mansion. so deceptive it hurt
quoted my tantrums. like an excerpt from a book
don’t mention the looks. I wonder how you mention me now?
sat on the couch, watching Netflix. Forget heaven and clouds
came from the kitchen with spoon full of sauce that you fed in my mouth.
Cilantro, “does the chicken francaise taste good, my love”
Now I found spooning so distasteful. It sucks
Double entendre tornado. A marksman from the start
Haloed your heart, rainbow. And darts at the bar
volcano and smog, now I counted a hundred horseshoes
Barely put in words, how much I adore you
So scared and it hurts, I’ve come to assortments
From arid. It’s gravid, it varied of course
Marriage, like cherries. Best pick to engorge
Eviction of souls. dependent on the glare you
reflected
You sold me religion, with Laissez-Faire in effect
I flare up, I gave up on describing this feeling
Inscribed when I speak, shine on the shrine I requested
dried my lips on your teeth. A psychic connection
read the Braille on my tongue without trying to french kiss
Assignment: Accepted. Binary in sign language
With tension so hectic you’d barely bury the knife hatchet
Fury. Attachment. To the universe that emblazoned
the jury and gavel. as well as the executioner faceless
Fell into Jupiters orbit, and you didn’t notice
Consumed in your work. My mutation was forced
I knew it of course, I ballooned and transmogrified
with evolutionary pose, soon to be broken, I
Cocooned. I was born. alas. a new metamorphis. Rise
Using the moons pull as a force. So isotopic
The butterfly. Psychotropic. New skull and a heart