Mannequin hug

My fingers feel heavy,
So that even putting words to paper
Exerts every ounce of energy.
This is a complete 180
From where I was a week ago;
What I thought was my better half
Smirks with derision from the firmament
Saying, “I was never a part of you.”
It must have been delusion, then,
And now I have come face-to-face
With a reality soul-crushing and typical:
The exact story that my life has told
Every fucking chapter.
I’m tired, I’m beaten,
And totally disconnected from everything
And everyone I thought I’d never lose.
I may stand before them,
But they aren’t looking at me;
They’re looking at a shell,
The hollow, substance-less form I present
So that no vulnerability or weakness is seen;
But the cracks are there, and growing,
And I’m too weary to put the mask back on,
So the only recourse is exposure,
To show the world the chaos and hopelessness
Occupying this far-too-fragile mind.
And when I am deemed too far gone,
Too inconvenient to bother with,
Maybe then I can finally convince myself
To find the release I’ve sought my entire life.
What a glorious day that would be.



Edge of heaven

“You’re crazy,” she says,
Tears falling from her eyes
Like the rain before a squall
As she grips the fringes of guilt,
Born from sins she never committed;
And despite my protests,
I know she is right:
I am insane beyond compare—
Out of my mind—
For the love I possess
Means there is no measure
To the lengths I will go,
The suffering I will endure,
To shed even a mote of light
On the darkness in which she is imprisoned.
She believes she is toxic,
A bleeding scar on my heart,
When the truth—
Though I never know how to express it—
Is the opposite:
Standing awestruck,
In the presence of such ethereal radiance—
More blinding than staring into the Sun—
Knowing my life isn’t even a fraction
Of what I would surrender
For a second’s smile,
Is the most freedom I could ever strive for;
And if this is not unconditional bliss,
I am incapable of fathoming happiness.
There is no way for me
To convince her that her guilt is unwarranted,
That she does not inflict this torture
She has fabricated in her mind;
All I have are inadequate words and a voice,
And the most precious gift
She has bestowed upon me,
Which no one else has before:

The Fury of Hell, as Nothing

Light in hell

We are in hell,
Living through every moment
Of searing pain,
Seeking a second’s reprieve
From the smoke that fills our lungs:
A reminder of the abandonment
And broken promises we were fed.
That makes us demons,
Baring every flaw to one another
As we drift through this realm of repudiation
And self-doubt.
God has already forsaken us,
So we find solace in each other’s embrace
Realizing that, among the flames,
The torture,
The despair that comprises our existence,
We are not slaves to any fate;
A moment of error does not strip
Our ability to be more,
To find the beauty
Even in a smoldering lakebed;
And even as demons,
Damned by one who deems us ugly
And not worth a sliver of grace,
We have found one another.
So I have no regrets for these mistakes
That damned me to this inferno,
Because in your embrace,
Living in hell
Is worth every second.

The Egos That Abort Our Miracles Before They’re Conceived

Smoke hand

You are my hollow,
My nightmare;
The perpetual fuck-up,
Threatening with each misstep
To rip apart the firmament
Partitioning my reason from devastation,
So that I will spiral into self-destruction,
Providing you the excuse you need
To vindicate your poor decisions,
Chosen not from peer pressure,
But simply because you’re weak.
Fear grips you, asphyxiating your mind,
Triggering emotions too powerful to stifle,
So you give yourself to carnality,
Yielding to base desires to escape.
You smash every mirror
In your toxic corridors
So you’ll never have to face yourself
And the offenses that have transformed you
Into this strung-out ascetic,
Prescribing ineffectual punishment to atone;
And the rage—
This rage has grown beyond you,
Parasitic and soul-sucking,
And has deformed my psyche,
Inducing fits of insufferable self-deprecation.
It’s a chain reaction,
One you are aware of but are content to ignore
As long as you can numb your pain
And forget what you’ve caused to others;
But god as my witness,
I will not succumb to this blackness,
Dragged down by envy and despair.
You have become hollow,
And I will not be your victim,
And when at last you realize your folly—
Because no one escapes life—
I promise you I will not be there.
he light beckons, and with or without you
I will answer,
And leave you in the dark, if I must.

The Unabashed Face of Hatred, Worn by Me

Hell rising

Let me transcribe these words plainly
So that even you can fathom their meaning:
I do not want you in my life;
Every second in my presence is blasphemy,
An insult to my existence,
And every second longer
I feel as though I might tear you to shreds.
Mistake not kind words or pleasant smiles:
I have not forgotten the evil you are
And the pandemonium you have risen
From the depths of hell to terrorize me,
To confine me in a shell of solitude,
Paranoia, and insecurity,
Slave to your whims and malleable,
Reforming myself to every mood,
Waiting for the day when it’s enough for you.
You are despicable, incorrigible,
And your pastimes sickening beyond verbiage,
Toying and prodding just long enough to instill hope
And, with swift rejection,
Tearing it down like buildings against wrecking balls;
But someday soon you’ll realize
If you continue to reject love,
One day love will reject you,
And lying on your carpet,
Cheap and unraveling—the mirror image of your life—
I will be there, not to console you
But to eviscerate you, strangle you,
Leave you open and exposed,
So, for once, you will know how it feels.

The God of Self-Destruction


Does it satiate your bloodlust
To claw your way through my chest,
Digging beneath the flesh and tendons
To the heart beating beneath,
Rip it out, still beating,
And smear it across your face
Before chewing it to shreds?
You would cannibalize
Any who extend a helping hand,
And offer your soul
To every destructive force
That would erode your essence
And cast your shadow into oblivion.
You are the god of self-destruction,
Praying for release and solace
To the devices of your own demise,
Negligent of the angels above
Begging for your company.
One day soon
You will become the ash you ingest,
Assimilated by the cancers you invite
To leech off your altruism;
And on that day you will be trod upon
Again and again,
And no one will even know you’re there.