Pick Your Poison


you want from me
it picks at my scabs
im just one half of a man
who got pretty good at hiding
the scars and infected boils that
scream across my flesh all night long 

i have less to give
than i have to want
but i sure as hell dont
have the time to be wasting
here explaining why i am this way
sometimes theres no reasoning involved


Eat my heart out with a spoon.
Speak my words with no voice.
Name the fantasies after my defeat
and drain their meaning away.


tinker toy hearts beat in lego block bodies,
our etch-a-sketch thoughts float high over our heads.
all the water is whiskey, and our mouths are on fire;
when we go hide underneath the sheets on my bed.

it was warm in our fortress of cotton and fleece,
while the butterfly stomachs spoke pony-tail words.
playing house in the depths of this mansion of leaves,
sharing half-sticks of gum, telling secrets we've heard.

Silent but Deadly

your gaze has become a symbol by the skill of my hands
it sits and waits vertically
watching the traffic 

those haunting memories have dropped out of the third dimension
but at least i get to see you once and a while
although you can no longer respond
wave after wave of energy blow past my face with the force of a hammer,
and i realize that you are still running...

Uh Oh

This could get a bit hairy, I thought. I can see the sallow rings on your eyes.

You see them too... Now is when things start getting damaged, and I am left to deposit my security into something greater than the will to remain. This leaves our vision quest unquestionable, and our answers are stranded standing in the cold. No hoping heart bleeds dopamine in worthy concentrations.... 

I am but a supplement for the same.

Seeing You

I miss the taste of spoiled milk and rotten fish,
an existential stew of wounds healing awkwardly.
so what really happened? I'll never know.

Three steps in to it, then taking two steps back,
my perspective becomes as narrow as my expectations.
my stomach is churning without a tumor to reject.

When I look for something in the moment
and its definitely not there,
I feel at home

And the thoughts haven't changed at all, dear,
but perhaps they land farther apart.
They sit inside my chest as heavy as my eyes when I saw you approach.

As though my blood-stained smile had been a photograph
you crumpled up and threw in the recycling bin,
I have felt so biodegradable, but like plastic I retain my melted shape.

I was watched and yet invisible
broken but still intact
unwanted and desireless
conscious but so knocked out
drowning in the dryness of the land
with one hand to God and the other holding my pitchfork strong