you see things
that aren't
really there
and complain
when I can't
see them too
it's an
invisible
white line
across your lips
that reminds me
not to speak

your decadence
is unnerving
and your spirit,
dead

you hold
my eyes
and say
"look downward,"
the spiral is
spinning
towards you

you fall
into it
just like you
fall into
my arms
like you
are

your resilience
to opposition
makes me think
you have the
boyish charm
that makes you
cringe in my
face

i desperately
want you to
feel my words
but you
push the
air away.

the neurosis
of the
quiet coma
attacks only
when i
am awake
it pumps
like cyanide
in my veins
and makes
me scream
into the
dark.

the mysterious ghost
that called
my name
startled my
imagination
and left me
feeling
so alone
just like
i felt
the day i died

i did not
expect
to be cut
in half
like you cut
a lemon
before you
squeeze
the sour juices

it is the
stasis of
opinion
that makes me
grovel in
the dirt
the way i
see your face
when you
closed the
door
to you
mind.

pins and needles ( Read more... )

it is instinct ( Read more... )

your vindication
is abstract
like a
failure's art
it creates holes
inside your body
allowing the
viole(n)t nectar
to seep and fall
it is a suicide
on your mind
that you have
yet to committ

the catastrophe of the air ( Read more... )

fear
is the bone
of your skeleton

emaciated
in despair

tidal waves
of grace
falling behind
your captivity

unseen.

you are the most ( Read more... )

disconnect ( Read more... )