the rattling rhythm
                  of my skeleton dancing
                       to/ its own /nervous-tune
     finger bones shaking
                    skull     splitting
                I come alive
                           & resurrect
               to gulp your pulse

                   the monster of Halloween/I/
                            disturb paper sheets
                                         & empty screens
                                     I hide not
                            (under the bed)
                         I just simply decide
                                          when to revive
                                and entwine your mind
                                        in thorns


I Regret You.

I could fool myself into thinking
     everything was fate
         & it was always
          a sham & the worst part
                 was merely the time it took
                                   to know but still

       I don’t know Why it was me.
      It’s easier when I look at you like a
               masquerade mask
                  despite how your
                father’s white-raven feathers
                      cloud those sea green eyes
                  so clearly my own.

      It wouldn’t hurt so much if you caved
                  but I know you won’t/
                      [the battle worn-out coward
                            first of your name
                            I can feel their judgment
                                 the acid, the lies
                                   and the bullshit
                                            miles away

               Apparently, the definition of    
             familial love 
       is fucked up &
                  I must’ve misread it or
                       misunderstood it
                  for [enter your version here]
                         Here I was thinking:
                             love was unconditional

           Authors Note: I’ll say the words before you have a chance to. I regret you.

skeleton powder

Are the dead lonely?
Dressed in their Sunday best
           in a mahogany cocoon
           Laid to rest
                              free of pain
                              free from usury

        I’d like to visit amongst the stars
                        but seemingly, only the rich
                                  can afford that luxury
                             I’ll do it once I’m gone
                                 I’ll do it once I’m gone



I’ve run dry of tears tonight
   I think that may be my oversight
        But I can tell when the gaslight
                                                   is on
 & No I’m not feeling very strong
             my message is brooding
                  I have to remind myself to keep

In and out in and out just keep filtering
      Oxygen ignore the choking sounds
       I’m trying I’m still trying even to me it’s
               Even when it’s mouthed
               & I know the voice in your heart
                Like the tremor in mine
                is keeping time with these words
                          but lately they’re all I’ve got

           I’m not watching clocks I’m not
         measuring time I’m not disciphering
   symbols in dreams because none apply
                              not to you or I or where
                              my creator may reside
       I wanted so bad to make an impact
         & I think I have so why can’t I
                  abandon my post and say

                 I’m not used to it, I rarely do it
                            There’s so much blood
                        on this metaphorical floor of
                                                  mine &
                     Maybe it was like this always

                      My world can be beautiful
               & tangible, dreamy and erased
                                  burst into flames
                     I need armor, I need weapons
                                    I need defacement
                                     or maybe it’s just so
                      simple it just comes down to
                                       an embrace


[Authors Note: inspired by In the House, In A Heartbeat by John Murphy]


The world would be a fairytale
   in a children’s book
Had the 《miracles》 been bigger
         Outlined in glowing light
   Like video games drawing attention
           But miracles are by and by now?
                      For sale
          is the best we can do,
                            half off /your soul/

                   I’m having a little crisis
               with myself tonight ^
    I think I’ve beaten myself to the last
           letter—–> of my name then
           something else happens &
           then another thing happens &
        though I wish life was sex and drugs
            abandonment cues and bus trips
     instead of chaos & intermittent silence
                       There’s no excuse for it

             I feel like those times
                  are long past
         Yet here I am still waving goodbye
                 on the R.R.M.S. emotional Titanic
                & still floating on the ship
           knowing what will happen to it
    though my organs are paying topdollar



Dusting off like hieroglyphics
            don’t dare enter the tomb
           you’ll find there’s jewelries
                             &ink        but never
                                         never ever

         Mind the asps|
                       their venom
                 goes straight
                   for your heart


the profane

It’s the caffeine
    and the nicotine
          The sedatives
                & the smell of propane
                           keeping me still
               irritatingly awake
I need a b re a k from existence
            from hearing |my family| in pain
            gluttony indeed swills liquid octane

            I can’t bear this…
             I may be physically absent
           but my spirit is there
                for some, that’s more
                     than they’ll ever again receive
         [like I never was here to begin with]