Chase.

I once told you I hoped that you wouldn’t chase,

the path made by my footprints as I ran away,

not to follow my feet as they endlessly tread,

places called “home” in my paranoid head,

yours used to follow my eyes,

darting about the night skies,

you’d trace a pinky down my cheeks,

trails from tears deemed obsolete,

do not follow my confused insanity,

into the cursed forest of ancient trees,

I’d rather you don’t see me as I mindlessly carve,

indecipherable messages into their’ bark,

I‘d rather that you might remember times,

when I still held a more lucid state of mind,

as I was back when I first asked of you

to someday cut me completely loose,

back when my feet could not yet carry through,

with any of the deeds that I still have to do,

do not falter in those old promises now,

you must override your heart, somehow,

you must stifle the desire you to feel,

to follow me into the darkness of Hell,

I’d rather you carry on in the warmth of the sun,

I want you pick up, dust off and carry on,

all these times, your foolish pride,

had you believing that we were solidified,

but it’s time to defy what we feel inside,

just let go and let yourself bleed for a while,

the loss will fade eventually,

same as my footprints into the trees,

at which you will stop any pursuit of me,

and let me self-fulfill this unwell prophecy.

 

 

 

Grandeur.

I have been,
listening…

and hearing you…
your every cent or two,
every jerking move,
and yet you prove…
to somehow be,
totally and completely,
shocked to find…
blackened faces,
fill up the spaces,
between the lines…
Hello, big guy!
I will be fair,
I won’t deny,
through my grandeur…
what did,
indeed,

appear and seem,
to be,
a valiant try…

for your part,
at least
but, then again,
surprise!

Nonplussed…
it’s still just,
without compromise,
and really shouldn’t be,
such a novel thing,
that I’m not listening,
after so much,
of the go and touch…
the itchy sting,
ear-ringing,

fucking redundancy…
see the burning,
behind my eyes,
see the hatred,
memorized…

please just let me be.
As, so it goes that,
eyes like mine,
chiseled by,
the passing time…

are not destined to see.

Still Learning.

I got the Adrenaline spin,
not sure
which is the right direction
obscure
the thoughts that begin
to swim
inside my imagination
again.

I do the ADHD thing,
mumbling
heart weighs in heavily
numbing
sweat pours down steadily
panicking
my thoughts race ahead of me
evaporating.

I have scars for all to see,
they fixed me
a return from captivity
a recovery
a horror film slashing
bleeding
just as the final pint
emptied.

I have a heart that’s still learning,
I’m trying
a desire to indulge in humanity
difficulty
to connect with someone like me
a daydream
a baby of Lithium, Ritalin and Dexedrine.

Ultimately.

It was ultimately for naught,

my face tattooed by bird-shot,

an undeniable blanket of doom,

an indefinable pain in the womb,

It was the robbery of things,

my things; weaseled away from me,

stolen from me in my deepest sleep,

secretly spilling the oaths that I keep,

crumbling away the loosened layers,

that block the pathway to my nightmares,

it was the ending of good things,

the increase of physical pain,

our thing just began surely fade,

beyond the recognizable state,

things agreed to in former times,

come back around to materialize,

smacked with back of an outstretched palm,

that threw a desperately driven smoke bomb,

the palm that bears the dead to the tomb,

the palm of the hand you refused to hold onto.

Warning Shots.

Click. Spin. Click.
First warning shot:
Please…
don’t say,
anything to me…
your words,
cut and slash,
my skin invisibly…
Click. Spin. Click.
Number two for you:
See…
it’s about,
the powdery,
kegs full and ready,
to explode,
beneath my feet…
Click. Spin. Click.
Number three:
Believe…
when I swear,
on everything,
dear to me,
to make my way,
someday,
my own blaze,
of my own glory…
Click. Spin. Click.
Last kind gesture:
Leave…
if you’re smart,
if you can see,
the truth,
instrumentality,
the far reach,
of little ol’ me.

Down.

They all stared at me

eyes, empty of feeling

souls, judging and cruel…

rows upon rows of darkened holes

hollowed out eyes of dolls

crusted and crumbling from stucco…

this building is home to ghouls

ghostly spirits of the dead

the Doppler effect of a moaning cry…

overhead, the lights stop burning

the darkness becomes complete and I succumb

falling downward into your embrace…

into your hollowed place

your emptied promises and gluttonous lies

let us go there and not come up…

Unforgettable.

I, indeed,
vividly recall,
the magic
of it all
the tragic
end result
the headlong
and fatal fall
the sad songs
the postered walls
the easiness
that came with it all
I carry
memories
of many things
the days you
simply
let me “be”
the way you
behaved so
exemplary
how you tried
so hard to
show to me
the rule-card
the cue cards
of being free
the things we said
the times we had
the first time
the last time
the good
and the bad
the night you
decided to
move on alone
instead
I will never
forget to
remember
the dead.