Taste Me

give me some good lines to find my way…

doesn’t matter if i rot away

ill find what i was meant to be

ill become a new reality.

erasing everything that came before this

this…this…this…

horrible compromise of self; selling our selves

to the mouth of the mice of the world –

eat us up like news paper –

inked lies and all….

you will be the path we sell self compromise too…

you will undue everything in me –

you will undue everything in me –

so please…. suck me clean.

i like the little tinges of hope you leave in my bones….

i savor the hint of hate left upon my soul

  • i remember everything thing
  • everything you did to make me less whole.
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Ethereal Reflection

The rhythm is different as the years pass,

symmetrical stanzas break into flowing free verse;

as metaphors are swapped out for the actual truth.

This is as real as it gets; this is my world!

When did the, ever changing evolution of self occur?

Was in in leaps and bounds; perhaps moment by moment?

As i reflect on time played backwards through written words;

I find myself pondering the of the meaning of self expression;

I have joyfully, painfully, regrettably and mournfully captured

Tattered moments, memories; more and more poured

into little personalities that are all part of a greater reality

of one wandering a wondering road of what ifs about spirituality.

Out of loss and suffering comes the birth of a new reality;

a new personality, a new individuality – a new destiny!

Or perhaps, sadly,

only haunting images of personal nightmares stand out.

Talk me to Death

there has to be a beginning…

that wont run from the ending…

we’re killing…. each other…. together

smothering

all the life God gave us.

Happiness is overrated

give me your horror story,

mister, ma’am, talk to me all night

into the sweet a.m – i don’t give  a damn…

may your words be sharp and wit filled;

that dull knife is not how I wish to be killed …

shhhh…

I can feel the warmth of the blood pour down my neck,

like in my dreams …

so horrifically delightful…

holding my throat together,

as you eat my soul…

I’ve been told…. I taste like poetry and good intentions…

you may be my friend,

you may be my sin – as my hands may find you sleeping…

and then….

you will wish that you were dreaming….

nightmares…

your dead stare tells me there …

has to be a beginning…

that wont run from the ending…

“Pet – My Zombie”

“Happy Halloween,

I like your mask, do you like mine?

I find it just fine, thank you. I really like you:

this is a fake knife, may I hug you?”

“Do you like my smile – and all the lies it hides

as you say I love you? Say you love me too”.

As I’ve always said, nothing is as it seems.

We dress up to hide our fears

how ironic, playing the monster that brings tears.

When childhood is taken away, we no longer pretend,

everything decays, as innocents ends,

we no longer pretend –  we become.

We become, We become:

The people we’ve been taught to fear.

holding nothing dear.

There is no doubting that.

I love you.. you too death!… that is a fact!

You are my zombie – Hacked in half in life with an axe!

The Faded

Summer in the fall,

I walk through a painted festive forest,

I remember it all, as I stand at that tree;

fall to my knees and remember everything.

mud stains hands, i crawled to you,

blood stained hands, I killed for you,

and… I died for you and one thing is true.

We were never due, too… be together.

The memories flicker, blinking in the bitter sorrows

hidden in the dark tomorrows of my mind;

floating through my consciousness like ghosts through walls.

as fluttering leaves fall in fall

I crawl through the memories like a worm in the earth

what have I rehearsed to be in the moment,

pretending not to lament the choices I have made.

I caved into the lust – of the warmth…

of you…