And So Are You

It happened okay

somebody took it away

snuffed out the light

and beat out the fight

let out the air

and condemned all the prayers

left me screaming

into the night

with puffy eyes

and restless emptiness.

How arrogant to assume

that karma works one way

and to think

I’d be beyond

maybe one day

having it all

come crashing back on me.

How foolish am I

to think my heart

the only capable of breaking

of my voice

to be the only one

calling out shaking

begging for someone

for something

for anything

to make it go away

pleading

a thousand reasons

for you to let me stay

and holding my breath

when they say it gets better.

They’re liars

all the same

I know it to be true

because I’m a liar too

and so

nearly beloved

are you.

Purity

I wrote a poem once and it didn’t rhyme

but instead kept time

like a rhythmic beat

and those who read it

and did not get it

moved along and needn’t try

to forget it

but those who stayed

and kept it close

opened a door

onto my most

hidden secrets

a wall of infamy

and of uncharted regrets

for those I kissed

with a mouth full of blood

 and those I impaled

 on their notions of love

 to those who broke down

 the broken bits of me

 and made dust from the diamonds

 that once had made me

 that proved to me

 for once

 and for all

 that the forgotten crawl

and the thoughtful weep

whilst the nihilist do goods

climb the steep knoll

of promises to fruit

and hold their chests

desperate for someone

to tell them the truth

as their hearts come undone.

“Which Way to Turn” (2013)

I wanted to believe in,

Every word that you had said,

As the sage of your voice caught fire,

And it’s smoke filled my head.

As you kissed the side of my mouth

And laid me on your bed,

As you promised me forever,

But forever is dead.

And I didn’t want a prince,

I, in fact, dreamed of a pauper,

But when this poisoned princess fell,

You never reached out and caught her.

Instead you let her fall,

Further and further down,

Spinning and singing until,

Her face hit the ground.

Holding your ears and,

Humming a tune,

Trying in vain to drown,

Out the sound,

Of her sickly sweet heart beat,

Thumping its last.

As the gates of the present,

Slammed on the doors of the past,

And the windows of to be,

Nipped at the grass,

Of a field where potential,

Used to grow and where,

The embers of hope did not,

Twinkle but glow,

And the tides of infinity,

Ebbed and flowed.

And every lost and,

Lonely bastard on the road,

Knew which to turn for home.