I don't love you, but I always will.

I love you.

There's screaming, oh there's screaming
Ricocheting throughout my skull
The forceful emotion scalds my guts
My heart bruises my bones
These words, clamoring to escape me
Are clamped down by my teeth
And beaten by my tongue
And swallowed back down my throat
Back to the void from whence they came.

I'll say it with every ardent stare
Hoping to telepathically imprint the message on your mind
I'll mean it with every frenzied touch
Believing the graze of my fingertips transmits my meaning
I'll whisper it between the curtains
Praying the sentiment of my breath reaches your heart

Stone

Grasping and flailing and burning for air
The brown tinges of decay frosting the fabric
Muted vibrations and diluted colors
Leak with disdain where they once poured free
Doubting and hating and yearning for warmth
Grayish hued veins crawl upwards and away
Inaccurate and hyperbolic self-accusation
Tear and degenerate the withered flesh

For I am my comfort, I am my seed
The filament, the shade, the throne.
A heart hearkens lightly and tosses its qualm,
And then, I will turn into stone.

True Story

The trouble with making your dreams reality is that

Your dreams

Become

Reality.

They are no longer beautiful, tidy notions of sparkle and wonderment.

They have problems, they get trashed, someone fucks them up.

They're not pretty anymore.

They didn't mean as much as you thought they would.

They ruin everything.

When it's intangible, it's safe from your own erroneous judgement and it's safe from other people's heavy and cutting words and infallible stupidity.
When it's there, when it's real, it's vulnerable.

And it will

Get

Broken.

Eris

The toxic spill
The noxious fumes

The pain, the pestilence

Famine, chaos, discord

Hail Eris, they speak!

Their tongues tripping in jubilation!

The hearts of men held rapt by the furor.

Hail Eris, they cry!

Whoa, for she is merciless!

Her ivory fingers spreading poison throughout the land
And her apple, her golden fruit

Lobbed like a grenade between lovers and foes
Hail Eris, they shout!

Yea, for she is ruthless!

The willows weep and burn

The river runs red and wild

Stones crumble.

Hearts blacken.

Hail Eris, they speak!

Whoa, for she is powerful!

She sees what is good, and she weakens.

She sees what is pure, and she falters.

Within her box of misery, she is unprotected.

She is nothing without the pain of others.

Hail Eris, they shout!

Before castrating themselves for her sake

So she may thrive another day.

Untitled

I'm not mad that I'm late

I'm not mad that I'm inconvenienced

I'm not mad that I've lost a day

I'm not mad that all plans have been rearranged

I'm mad that I have to wait an additional 12 hours to see a face I've not seen in three weeks.

AND THAT... Is what makes it so strange.

Unknowing

Steeped with angels who softly fly

On browning, withered wings

The voice, the helm, the bitter taste

Of disputes

Of beauty

Of lies

For that planned encounter of chance

I wait within the pale discourse

On floors of ashen memory

We sing

We love

We dance

Clouded skies of wasted greens

Rain of wine, rain of guilt

Wires, codes, keys, and coins

For them

For you

For me