write what's right

I made you a drawing last night,
The moment simply felt right
Through my hand and not my sight
Creations grew to light,
Jumbled between your plight
And my human rite,
The existing emotion reigns fright,
Pulling around me a tight
Fury relating to your bite,
Though I just might
Be quite alright.

4 is for Whores

Day number four,
Number of days you whore
Taken by its newness,
No need to confess
Such conventional sins
Since they add as wins.

Your Chaste Nature Makes Me Feel Pure

Boasting.

Your new conceit.
Freedom is just the medicine
needed for complete removal of your morals.

Pretend I do not exist,
All will dissolve with our relationship.

Tell the world of your lustful trials,
Attract loose girls to loosen you up
Rather than get the job done yourself.

What a mastermind of manipulation!
Cunning and deceitful in the most innocent of ways.

Say you only do these things for common good-
For me, for you, for our future.

Yet the gain of power feeds to reckless behavior,
inhabiting even the most noble of men.

hitting the bottle for one reason or another

So the drinking begins,
quickly for there is little to be spent
and much want for inebriation.
Trying to forget and once more,
the cycler appears,
racing down that familiar path.
She stops every now and then to listen
to words in her mind.
And up pops the cup!
Down pours the booze,
a sly awakening is in tune.
That familiar warmth, cheeks aglow,
forgetting is setting in
to defeat her foe.
Fertile with longing, relaxed in pain
they are the reasons
the bottle will drain.

my fucking love is like a fucking camp fire

the burden clings
like a small fire clings to survival,
growing and shrinking but always present.
Yearning, wondering, parasitic,
lurking in the back of the mind
eating decayed matter.
Fight the need, the obsession, the love-
yet it lingers mercilessly,
gnawing on each organ with pleasure.
Sickness overcomes the body,
happiness fades when
thoughts of the lost lover enter once again.
this fire, this small pitiful fire
burns incessantly and shall never die out.

the continuous piercing pain

shards of glass position themselves
carefully into my spine,
one by one sinking deeply into my atmosphere,
the pain, prevalent,
it whispers words of horror,
infiltrating my thoughts in rays of darkness.
They had once never existed,
yet as I roll along
pieces of glass and dirt accumulate on my skin,
piercing my pain into it's source.

A cry from the gut,
glass has gone too deep,
alas my heart is at rest
for nothing will hurt me again
so long as this shard
stays locked in my chest.
a grin sweeps across my pale face,
blood coats my hands,
all is peaceful and white
moment of laughter gives way,
I am free.

letting go

the air blows sarcastic humor
as it whispers in my ear, I feel the weight
of its breadth, each sigh
burdens my mind with the past,
hear me cling to the words,
hear my pathetic nature,
listen and move on.

a wish from a failure

silence enraptures the soul,
feet tucked under a messy blanket
striving to keep from the unbearable cold,
fight thoughts with actions-
slowly close the moment with one word of thought,
behind the velvet curtain lies
the bearer of every burden-
shout: "Away with you!"
and a warmth of love carries you away
into bright open fields of opportunity.

u

unexpectedly you walked into my life
without my consent,
You dined me, swooned me,
bore me through a legend
only storybooks have told.
Over my head
you threw me gently,
your touch like that of flower petals
brushing my thigh.
away you plowed, right through my root,
planted your seed and watched it grow-
blossoming a beautiful being inside of me.
where does it stop?
this ever-present life form
crawls and crumbles between my nerve-endings,
charging my neurons erotically, erratically.
how easily you stole me when no other could,
a sudden push, face-down in the dirt
sprung this unimaginable, un-fortifiable child-
You.