And Denial is the Sweetest Death of All

I’ve taken what I want from you.

Left you a hollow shell.

Left you dead.

Is that what you wanted?

I tried to warn you, but you forced my hand.

Forced my hand around this knife.

Forced this knife upon your throat.

I am a thief.

A thief and a fucking poltergeist.

I held your face below the earth until your lungs filled with dirt.

Dense with the soil, your breath became so shallow.

Just like me.

Just like the world.

I don’t remember a  time when I’ve ever cared

And now is no exception.

Next time when I say ‘no.’

You’ll know exactly what it means.

A Kindred Spirit

You once told me, “Death is but a dreamless sleep.”

But your words are laced with a certain longing…

A desire hidden deep under your skin.

Within the walls of your restless heart lies a secret…

Forbidden knowledge for which you’ve sacrificed your innocence.

I am not certain of it’s origin

Not completely fond of it’s nature,

But my heart flutters every time you speak those words…

“Death is but a dreamless sleep.”

To the Apathetic, to the Empty

Do not fight that which will inevitably control you.

Acknowledge its power, its worth.

Allow it to roam freely inside of you

Twisting, jerking…writhing into your very core.

Grant it full control.

Allow it to speak to you…motivate you.

Feel its warmth radiating out of you.

The beauty of its intentions

Flooding your hollow skull with ideas…urges.

Make no attempts to control these urges.

They are pure. Innate.

Allow your mind to become saturated with the fervent heat of perversion.

When you stab…

Stab angrily. Stab with overwhelming fury. Plunge deeply.

When you torture…

Do so without exhibiting an ounce of mercy, a shred of sympathy.

When you kill…

Kill because you can.

Kill because your victims are exactly that…yours.

Yours to slice and stab.

To rip and tear.

To rape and mutilate.

They are your entertainment, your possession.

Kill without guilt, remorse, or contrition. (Other words for weakness.)

Exterminate the young and the old

The rich and the poor

The strong and the weak

The sinners and the saints

The scholars and the stupid

The beautiful and the hideous

The perfect and the worthless.

Eliminate them

Because human beings are the lowest and most miserable form of life.

Kill them because murder is the ultimate display of power…

The highest form of ecstasy.

To Lend A Helping Shovel

We’re the ones set aside to feel the weight of the world.

The ones who turn pain pills into piss for you.

And what do we get?

A free coffin and a burial plot.

We live exiled in your mouth.

Blow us back from where we came…

Give us all the gunpowder we can handle.

Gives us your bombs and missiles and mortar fire…

And see if we still do your bidding.

Crazy eyes, as bright and listless as a solar flare

Move furiously to the beat of the warhorses as they gallop

Nodding heads, flooding lungs.

And we were always black

Like the crispy little bodies, still smoldering.

We were always black as coal.

You’re in the line of fire now

On the front lines.

And you still can’t see.

“I see insects crawling

crawling

crawling

In and out of your rebel mouth.”

They said

And repeat. And we all

agree

That blood is red.

And we all

agree

Their blood was red.

They step back from their position

As if they

May burn with remorse.

But, upon seeing that which is red

They recoil in terror.

And like a midnight arsonist

Flee, heads turned skyward.

They walk aimlessly behind the sun

Beyond pools of red.

Through bodies decorating the fields like lawn ornaments.

And, knives in hand, we walk

behind the sun

after them.

Another Struggle Documented

It would seem that I’ve executed another flawless social faux pas

By denying myself the right to a sudden change of scenery.

By becoming an accessory to my own murder.

By accompanying my ghosts as they carry me away.

I am a slave to my indifference.

A casualty of an endless subliminal war to which I’ve lost everything.

I have been paralyzed by my arbitrary fear of failure…

My insatiable need for intellectual superiority has left me without life or limb.

Singing a beautiful song of perpetual sorrow.

I have produce many lines…many words that accentuate my ill-fated story.

These words were never justified by a single shred of irrefutable evidence against my own treason.

I suppose my outcry may seem like a ploy for fame…

But instead I have fallen into the impermeable darkness of infamy.

Is everything irrelevant?

Maybe.

But what criteria do I have to judge coherency?

When it seems that I have lost the last bit of sanity I had managed to retain throughout my youth.

I have never claimed to be innocent,

That would be dishonesty and nothing more.

However, I do feel that my plea for subtle transition

Is not one of pretentiousness, but purely of a sincere desire for something better.

Something beautiful.

Something more than simply existing, searching for a place in which to die.

Rain, Rain…

This is all you get…

Brief glimpses into the chaotic rhythm of my thoughts.

I’ll give you that.

Let you have it free of charge.

Because it’s easy for me.

It’s easy to write…

To type these words.

To display these emotions in a control group fashion.

Just like it’s easy for you to be lonely.

To be tired.

It’s easy because it’s comforting.

Because you love it.

And I’m still talking.

Little glimpses.

That’s all you get.

They’re free because no one wants them.

Little.

(Do you see the rain?

It’s nailing down the old coffin, board by board.

When will they realize it’s empty?)

Oh death…take these symptoms…

Take these glimpses.

They’re free because they’re…

They’re free because no one

Because no one cares.

(Do you see the rain?

We hummed along with it when we built sadness

We built sadness so the Valium junkies would have an excuse.

Do you see that coffin?

Don’t they know it’s full of shit?)

I Suppose I’ve Fallen Ill

I soak in the light of day…

Hold it like a sponge until the light evaporates.

Then like a faulty atmosphere

The light

The warmth

They flee from my porous interior like murderous fiends

Departing the victim of their latest slaughter.

And I bid farewell with no tears,  no second thoughts.

Because this is how life works.

The descent is the worst.

The descent into the pitch-black canyon that I call a heart.

It pumps not blood, but dust throughout my body.

Every vein.

Every organ.

As I lie

Cold and emotionless

In my deathbed,

I dare to ponder the things of my past.

The memories.

The feelings long since forgotten.

I feel as if every one of them is a shovelful of dirt upon my casket.

My tomb.

Lay me to rest.

Without worry

Without the constant bondage of this impermeable sadness.

This endless sickness will be the death of me.

And if I have my wish

It will take me sooner rather than later.

Absent

I look to the stars

(when all else fails)

Trying desperately to find meaning in the constellations.

The rain consoles me

Speaking softly to my spirit

Yet it feels so ancient…

Like the touch of a cold fossil on my cheeks and forehead.

I find myself wondering about the things to come.

(Sleepless nights have always been a regularity)

And

(things)

seem to morph into

(troubles)

That leave me stunned, disturbed, confused…

And (anything but) beautiful.

I wonder if mercy is a relevant concept

When no one is there to give or receive it.

Love is

(the purest form of)

Evil.

I am losing my will.

Dissolving into barriers that I once ran through.

Dissolving into them and being imprisoned there.

(I try to care)

Yet I always find a way to avoid feeling anything.

I feel

only

What I am allowed to feel.

I breathe this air…

I drink this water…

I exist.

But at what cost?

Somewhere Between Sight and Sound

I watch you suffocate amidst the sorrow.

Inhale Flamoudahyde.

(Breathe deep, breathe deep the pain of loss)

Filling lungs, deteriorating brain.

A black sickly color illumintaed by rows of candles…

Lit

Burning

Satisfying your need to see.

A penetrating scream is accompanied by cerebral hemorrhaging,

Satisfying your need to hear.

Alone

Alone in a corner

Dying.

Trying not to think.

Trying not to slip away

Knowing that if you do, you will not return.

You Leave the cold bathroom floor

And walk through fields of dafodills.

A secluded meadow

Found only in your mind.

Black streaks through your veins

Enters your heart.

Freezes it from the inside out.

Alone

Alone in your corner.

Beside your porcelain companion

Throwing up your guts.

Dying silently.

Are you happy?

Everyone else is.

No one misses you in your meadow.

A syringe lies a skew on the vanity

Open bottles spill a  rainbow of pills onto the linoleum.

(Xanax, Valium: we all fall down)

You wake in a pool of vommit.

But that’s okay

You think

“It’s nice to have some company every once in a while.”

And then you drift.

Back into the darkness.

So much for arrogance.

You guess

Life is just a hell of a lot better without breathing.

Alone.

Alone in your corner.

This is home.

Note to Self:

You cry.

No one hears.

You suffer.

No one cares.

You carve lines into your wrists, hoping to compensate…

Hoping to bargain with depression

Yet it offers only temporary relief.

You wear that plastic smile

As if it can save you.

As if it can justify even one evening of wishing you were dead.

Even one attempt to end your life.

Even one pill too many.

And today you took one pill too many, didn’t you?

More like eighteen too many.

But that’s okay.

Because ‘life’s hard.’

Because existing isn’t quite as easy as it seemed a few years ago.

Because you WON’T recover from this one.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

As if I Were Exiled

Winter has returned

With a vengeance that summer will never quite understand.

The bitter November air burns my throat…

And I’ve never felt more at home.

As I walk through the endless curtains of blackness,

Feeling the embrace of the summer’s ghost

I notice a solemn peculiarity I haven’t felt since last January

My heart does not ache.

My mind is calm.

Funny things.

Snow is the last commonality the weather has with my way of thinking

And we’ve been drifting apart for months now.

More Than Petty Words Could Ever Say

Please allow me a moment of clarity,

Before I look into your eyes

Because I’ll never catch my breath again.

I am powerless

I am needless

I am right where I want to be.

In this brief moment,

Under the bluest of skies

I forget what it’s like to be alone.

Tonight…

I’ll cry myself to sleep.

But for now

I’ll look into your eyes…

And inhale.

(I love you more than petty words could ever say)

Bad, Bad, Bad…

Disturbed and

Wondering if you really care at all

I (watch) as the sun falls.

My (in)securities keep me awake as you sleep

And eyes heavy, I can’t dream at all…

Keeping with the rhythm of (Kerouac’s) sea

I try to toss and turn

Failing miserably as the (thorn) in my side penetrates the mattress

(Which bleeds inhibitions, of course)

As if the night would (for once) explode into hazy vision of pretty things.

Yet

My mind will not close it’s weary doors

So I continue (thinking) about (anything but) you.

Blinding my mind’s eye

(with this morning’s arrogant shine)

I cry (for the first time) and lie

Not sleeping (but) dead.

If this (mad) method of mine continues to be

Tried and true

Then maybe I’ll dream

(in another life)

Life (Period)

First I’m manic

Then I’m suicidal

Then I’m manic

Then I’m suicidal

Then I’m manic

Then you tell me you can’t read me

And I say neither can I.

Then I’m manic

Then you let me fall

Then the world collapses around me.

Then I’m manic.

Then I’m suicidal.

And life goes on.

“I Love You,” She Said

“I love you,” she said.

And with a tear in my eye, I said nothing.

Looking up at the stars, I see the patterns shift and dissolve.

And I see her.

“I need you,” she said.

And with both hands tightly balled into fists I said nothing.

Trying to ignore the pain I look out Into the sea

I count every wave,

My heart beating to the rhythm of the tide.

“Please don’t leave me,” she said.

Shaking violently, I turn

I take a step.

I bite my lip.

I take a step.

I bite harder.

(The blood tastes like home.)

I walk away.

I run away.

“I’m dying,” she says.

A tear falls from her eye.

Shaking uncontrollably now, I collapse.

I bury my face in the dirt and sob.

Sob, sob, sob…

As if It will change anything.

“I love you,” she said.

I raise up and scream, “I love you! I’m so sorry!”

I wait.

I stand.

I look.

She’s no longer there.