drunken endeavours

crammed awkwardly in the backseat
next to the angel with raven hair
smelling of gunpowder and ammonia,
emanating cyanide when her lips brush
your cheek
carelessly

collateral

scenes of warfare and sex
only amount ultimately
to the same little deaths
we can't forsee and understand

until they have been contemplated
through the first person gaze
of the sniper

lovely sunsets in asia

exploding shells in the distance
light up the skies,
painting arrays of rubies and diamonds
that glitter as shrapnel rains down
as if it were the gentlest kiss of
mo(u)rning dew

eye of the storm

"Settle down.
The tranquility of the storm
will arrive soon."

perfect circles

I am sometimes told
that the little angel that is
gaily perched on my shoulder
isn't really there after all;

which makes me wonder
how I can still hear whispers
of beauty in this world.

---

even kittens know
to sink their claws into something
they cherish if they don't want to
lose it

you slipped like quicksand between
my fingers

yes, please

and we're back to square one,
(arguments in my mind that
ultimately come to the same conclusion
that you must have ages ago,)
in the same way that you flipped me over
as I screamed and kicked,
begging for mercy
while you turned my world upside
down (the only consensus between us
being that it's the only direction
we can ever really head in since)

hanging by the ankles,
I could see for once that
(it was over before it began, really)
everything's a little different
when viewed between her legs

keep it a secret

I promise that
I will never mention
the violence that
occurs to me in my mind
every time you walk by

'cause it's silly
how a thing like this
changes nothing

it's funny

you walk with the grace of angels,
sauntering in my room as I clumsily
and frantically try to find the clothing
you displaced

paralyzed

You leave me staring blankly
at flashing computer screens
reduced to innuendo to cover up tensions
neither of us wants to acknowledge
exist

backseat driving

footsteps thud in the distance
while the grass quivers
shimmering from moonlight
and fallen leaves that lost their lives
due to the earlier hailstorm

hiding in the backseat,
pressing faces to fogged up windows

teenagers awkwardly fumble
with seatbelts and bra straps

---

running your fingers nervously
through waves of black and brown,
as ripples form on the surface,
imitating dissipating thoughts

the water's only murky
because your reflection still
glimmers in it,
wobbling uncertainly

wind blows lightly across your face,
causing your watery countenance to shiver

vampire cats

storms flew in gales past our faces
as you covered my ears, so you could tell me
that you loved me

without me ever knowing it.
gently kissing my eyelids shut
as I shuddered at the sound of thunder

which you told me was just
god applauding at this wonderful creation

that I will never be able to comprehend
you

i'm so lonely i could die

remember when we floated on our backs,
staring at the sunrise while our hands were interlocked
praying for morning to come

running inside, the air conditioning hit
our soaked clothes and caused me to blanch
before I could move on

you couldn't hear me sobbing in the shower,
not because I was scared to fall for you,
but because I was so relieved to find someone who
appreciated me

(it was the first time
I had felt warmth in ages)

i use religion to mask my sexual frustration.

trying to cry tears
that aren't genuine
only makes things worse

embedded memories
that don't belong to you
haunt as echoes in the
back of your head.
You remember her face
as you walked off alone

catharsis found
through religious revelations
only serve as a band aid
solution to a deeper
internal wound


"When Shirley Temple was a small child, her mother would make her cry by pulling the wings off of butterflies or spilling her ice cream."

my whole world surrounds you ...

I don't remember much other than you ramming thoughts of
love, redemption, and hope down my throat
as I closed my eyes and arched my back;
caught in holy reverence at something just outside of my reach.

why drunken hookups never work out

disgusted by the gritty strands of
her hair in my mouth, I pushed her away

stumbling out of the backseat
alcohol permeates the hazy sky

stars wobble uncertainly,
imitating the way she falls
when her heels sink like golf tees
into the damp ground

attempts to embrace her
result in a humorous and messy version
of the heimlich manuver

the intensity of expression

displaced emotions run away
and it's hard to find them
when they wander,
meandering around in lost trails
in your head

soft black soil
underneath your feet that
pad along patiently in the dirt

toes curl in anticipation,
shivers down your back
as fingers run through your hair

anonymous embraces

my finished clay pieces end up in shards at a shooting range.

fumbling with wet clay,
mud slipping between your fingers
that attempt to grasp a concept
that physical restraints don't comprehend

fires lick the edges of frail porcelain
with a delicate touch
like lovers in an embrace
blackened curls form on the furled lips

physical restraints

there is a sort of violence
achieved in words that easily
covers up sexual tension

sex without love

pools of murky water puddle
ice forms at your ankles
crystalizing intentions that you never saw

weeds float,
frozen

rain pours down in gales,
biting at upturned faces
welcoming the breeze
we haven't felt in so long

snowflakes lands gently
on the tip of your tongue
light kisses you've
never had in real life

psychological warfare

slide one.
tangled masses of limbs
interlock
fingers splayed out towards the distance;
tiny white explosions in your eyes
tear at our flesh

sickly sweet scent
of our little deaths surround
us; small animals
whine and howl in the distance

the grass trembles
and the earth shivers
beneath our footsteps

walking away from the violence
that both of us agreed
never occured

slide two.
moonlight still shines
in your eyes; dawn approaches quickly
and the sky glitters with rubies in our eyes

water greedily nibbles at our toes
that curl in the sand, feeling grains beneath our nails

hands torn away from their bodies
seek out a friend to hold
reaching without a purpose or direction
caressing your face

the air is cold and unforgiving
piercing our throats as we inhale
"the sun is going to come up soon."

slide three.
there was something noncon(sensual)
about how you managed to silence the scream in my throat
as we fell back into nothingness

skies light up with glittering sparks of gunpowder
and blood and wine flies through the sky

the sun dramatically exits
the light in your eyes
the lies in your eyes