leech jarand with a rusty scalpelleech jar5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(which I always have on hand)
I deflower myself,
to thwart others' ungainly fingers.
I make careful incisions
on wrists, ribs, pelvis;
but this pesky skin keeps
knitting itself back together
when I and my lancet
we make poor surgeons,
my heart and I.
buddinglittle white pillsbudding5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(swallow, swallow, swallow)
greeted only by a
slight blurring of reality
about the edges
and the sudden inability to
is this what they mean by "happiness"?
not to beshe briefly contemplates the former,not to be5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but swallows anyway.
entiretyand I've been murdered once before,entirety5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but that was just a shallow stain.
the hollow shells of her eyes threaten mutiny
I'd crush the bars of my iron birdcage
and shatter the skeletal bowl
of the world,
but the brackish remains of hollow
words choke my arteries
and it's all I can do just to breathe.
gritviolently white lightsgrit5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the scrape and muddle of engines over asphalt;
the city reels, its dirty sidewalks drenched in
smog and alcohol.
draped over the elbows of corner streetlights,
ugly whores glare
at virgins in taxicabs.
through the looking-glassI was about twenty when time, so named, left.through the looking-glass5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
after eight lows, infinity pressed on.
what year should I answer for?
this number self-abuses.
still, awareness crashes in.
interspersed with brief sanity, my mind deteriorates.
I'm left choking on my silence,
and I don't know where to begin.
but begin I must, and it might as well be here:
in her frigid, periwinkle eyes.
they were making some sort of water-like sound
and Everests crumbled around my ankles:
as if the sea were one of us.
but I knew better and,
with the conscientious propriety
of a cashier handing back change,
I turned away.
the connection broken,
ice again veiled her eyes
and my legs were caught in deadlock.
oh irony, irony.
Alice knew I was waiting for her-
of this, I was certain.
and yet she still went chasing rabbits,
not believing that Time was flowing backwards
"I don't want to be your Alice anymore,"
"It's Liddellian torment, being trapped
behind the painted glass."
Conditionalityhis voice echoes in every crevice of my mindConditionality6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in crested valleys that can only come up
his eyes gleam with childhood trust
despite his years
as he whispers to me his idyllic strings of fantasies
and romanticized unreality.
I let him pontificate his crippled tautologies,
because I don't have the heart to tell him
that love is, by definition,
Grape Eyeswhat about when yourGrape Eyes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and it's not just a
muscle matter anymore,
when all your
start to look like
and when you realize
it's too late to master the art of
sleeping without the
Tired of Wakingshe scrawled heavinessTired of Waking5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
onto slices of the moon
so she could feel light.
that one-way journey
made all of her bones dry up;
she stopped using them.
she became a leech,
feasting on prehistories
of those she still loves.
blood-letting used to
be the cure for everything.
now she is just a...
flashy, honeyed, ironic,
pretty way to die.
effluvium screamingeffluvium screamingeffluvium screaming5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as she wrenches her ribs free from the
shrieking vultures and the
nightingales' brittle bones;
the dowagers drop,
laying themselves upon
formed by discrete empty particles
and their discrete empty words.
oh, how charming, she fancies herself a poet
on the treachery of realitybut nothing actually as sturdy as sheon the treachery of reality5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and so, bitter and maniacal,
she skirts the night with her reins
as if to draw a hero out of
the faceless flagstones.
but even her cellophane-cluttered heart
cannot search out a pattern in
their vague crinklings;
they deny, bare-faced,
that a spectre lurks below.
hyperrealityshe would go to any lengthshyperreality5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to be rid of their vile fingers,
the wretched tomes by way of vertebrae
cracking each distinct, arched hollow.
but light wakes not to find the demons
couchant in their respective eaves;
their tidy churning authenticity
leading realism to decay.
machinationsthe moon cracked thrice open and yetmachinations5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
still she demurred,
patiently doling out hoarfrost
to winter's brittle bones
but her idle mechanisations sound oddly hollow;
they fall, tinny and flat,
upon indifferent mouths.
it was nothing less than blasphemy,
their grisly intimacy
raping her dreams ruthlessly
with rusty syringes and
the grotesque feat of insanity
ripping at her ghastly
Them Good Girlsi'm hand-sewing baby-hewed petalsThem Good Girls5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
onto my night-gown,
flexing long dormant digit muscles
to smear pastels bold&bright,
dragging boiling fingerprint blood
[from the un-thimbleds]
across an antique ivory hem.
that is to say,
i'm lighting fires under gypsy toes,
that those might christen me
in my self-brutality.
those sinless are talentless,
and plunging toe-first is not "plunging" at all.
we bite the world hoping it will bite back, and knowing it won't.
vampire who said he was youyou've been trying to devourvampire who said he was you5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the tragic ephemera of the midnight sky
since your rapacious lungs first drew breath;
the brutal contraption that you call a heart
scraping by on the dull drudgery of arithmetic
to condense my skeleton into something you can use
but she's become enamoured and then some
with you, you bastard
is there anything but raw-flesh conviction about you?
still, the voraciousness of your voice
undermines the veracity of my very heartbeat
and I'm left in bitter deadlock with nothing to do
(god save the Queen!)
I loved you
lolitaher blood is upon her ankleslolita5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and they deny the ribbons that they've torn
these are the same men who ripped the wings from butterflies
the pontificating bastards
I've swallowed my dreams, if you want to know
chromium alloy scrapes at my innards
grimlyall that she has amounted togrimly5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is a defiant mockery of happiness-
an adder swallowed with grim alacrity,
a blade self-turned in grotesque
streetlights decay over ghosttrodden ground
motionI love you like amotion4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a half-pause in a torrent of
during which life
stutters into being.
I want to take you
in the breathless spaces between
where passion builds and shudders
into a trailing afterthought
heresythey forced martyrdomheresy5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
through my ribs
until it rusted in my
I am but penance
to lay upon your
I am their lover and enemy
and villainy personified.
bearing the charnel wounds of
I march onto the pyre.
She Never Meant...this cockpit is a coffin.She Never Meant...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my rats are (blessed) off-white-noise;
they chirp and mate on their yet-squirming feast.
no one would care that you&i are oil&water
except that we never
[used to be.]
in other words, we have not always been
s e p a r a b l e .
one imaginary window is all anyone really has.
i'm not the exception.
our treasured eyesight exists only to lead us deeper into our own heads.
technicolor bleeds from the lies we tell ourselves.
[why else do we shut our eyes upon impact,
other than to conjure a more unfortunate portrait.]
in other words,
you can only hide from your shadow in the purest dark,
and death is the only thing more real than love.
HungrierThe trees are turning by and by; we can no longer claimHungrier5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We are participants in this aging process,
So stop bleaching your face, please.
Let it flush and flake out your window.
Holding hands becomes pretentious.
We are the next generation,
Hurling our arms out of car windows,
Unfurling virgin wings as we pass everything on the interstate.
You've got me eating my cheeks
Filling cavities with blood because
I'm afraid I've forgotten how it feels to swallow.
You've got me rubbing your neck,
Just so when I curl to sleep in the backseat,
The residual smell of your tender flesh will let me
We drive until the trees are naked,
Til we come to terms.
[There is nothing left for us.]
The trees will turn again,
With the wheels,
With our wheels.
I'll finally swallow my blood.
You'll smile at the next girl who makes eye contact.
she never had eyes as brightshe never had eyes as bright asshe never had eyes as bright6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or song as clear as
but ever into her starry skies
drawn into abysmal depths
by the promise
of a ravaged warmth,
somewhere near the centre.
at the zenith of her autumnal beauty,
I find myself lost;
her brilliant voice
in prosepoetry elegance
shall whisper "I love"
into corroded dark
and tear all of the roadblocks
from my mind.
my heartmy heart (and the vicious foldsmy heart5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of its teeth,
those pale watery things)
has devoured me
like a pearl.
in my eggshells,
I scrape by like a drudge
I've just the hunch in the shoulders,
just the lowering of the eye.
I press my tongue
to the top of my mouth.
does this seem forward
I am sorry:
the poor thing is used to
having more to touch.