Inconsistency

It comes in bursts,
like the rising and falling
of a fickle storm
with no end or
destination,
and like a storm
It is wet and violent,
treacherous to
those nearby
and beautiful to those
who watch from
their windows,
blissful and far removed.
Sometimes I seek comfort
in the storm;
in the rage, the tears,
the spiraling thoughts
and emptiness I do not
wish to feel, yet
it is all I have ever
felt. And we all
cling to the familiar.

A Brief Note to My Former Lover

I miss everything about you and I hate myself for that. I hate myself more than I can allow myself to hate you. You were everything to me, and I don’t know whether to feel foolish or angry for allowing myself to be treated that way. But I can’t help but want you back.

First Degree

This emptiness
this agonizing ache
I cannot manage
to rid myself of
keeps it hand
firmly planted on
my shoulder
always there to
remind me of
every knife you twisted
deeper and deeper into
my spine
turning my mind
into a slab of paralyzed matter,
where it is cold and numb
and dead
and the worms have
already begun to make
their homes.
And I still cannot
fathom why I
needed to be stabbed
at all.

Seed of Hate

I have seen the likes of men like you, who walk here on the shore

I have seen the way you fan yourselves as you dance from door to door

And in spite of all the hate I muster in my heart so small

There is nothing I would rather do than crush the seed of all

 

I have seen the hearts you stomp on as you hold you heads up high

I have seen the flags you wave around as they billow in the night

And no matter how the anger flows inside me, I stand tall

There is nothing I would rather do than crush the seed of all

 

I have seen the captured souls of men who lay there still this night

I have seen the fellows bleed there in the cold and quiet light

And regardless of their injuries, I have done no wrong at all

There is nothing I would rather do than crush the seed of all

 

Depersonalized

I am but a window
and my eyes only see
what they want me to see
and while your words effect this body,
this heart has very carefully shut itself away.
I watch myself live my life as a passive viewer,
an uninterested audience member
and only occasionally do I stop to question if this is reality
when I feel as if I am only a pawn in a video game,
alive but not quite living

Another Stomach Ache

There is a disease that has consumed me
A disease some might call love
Others, infatuation
Yet this foolishness
This gambling of emotions
Is only ever temporary
Soul mate is a rather nonsensical term
And all you ever did for me
Was make my stomach ache

It could only ever be you

And of course it was you I dreamt of
when my hands were tired
and my face went numb
and nothing at all seemed to matter
to the hopeless eyes
that watched the light slowly fade
and trickle into darkness.

It could only ever be you
that my thoughts drifted to
and grasped too tightly,
too firmly,
that even the darkness began
to resemble light
and the blade felt too much like your hand
to notice the difference between
blood and sweat
and what it feels like to be dying
or simply falling asleep