If there is a god,

he will have to beg

for my

forgiveness.

Matt Léger

Copyright © 2015 Matthew Léger

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1511825235ISBN-13: 978-1511825238

CONTENTS

10 a.m.

ceiling fan moon

death (and you, my mistress)

watch

liquidated

supernova (slam one)

Flower (leaves)

junkie road

skeletons (pickin' sides)

winds

5:30 a.m. (a new lover)

simply a verse from a folk song

moon white, moon light

wallowin'

(regression)

a poem created and destroyed by alcohol

a sepulcher in my head

an ambien love poem

commercial red

(un)conditional love

jesus, didn't die for me

my prophet, oh my prophet

again, I digress, my friends

flower girl

paint it black, bend the edges

springtime rain, one a.m.

a trip to college, a cathedral, an attempt

New York City blues

a constant//jaded, solemn

silky smooth blades

lithium, an old one

iv

cacti

a silent airplane cabin

r.i.p. to the old me

v

vi

10 a.m.

It's 10 a.m. and the trees are naked,as the flowers dance under the sunlight.The baby blue skies look like your eyes,and the wind swims through the hole in my chest.My thoughts race, but rarely stop to visit you,and I guess I'd say I'm feeling okay.

Open up to me, let me part your seas.We can make like the rain and evaporate.

As the hands of the clock caress the numbers, my heart ticks away.

Will I see you in the stars?

ceiling fan moon

i watched the ceiling fan moon of my bedroombright eyed lover, you left so soondoes your heart still beat in mine?I'm trying to pick myself back uprename the stars from your tainted touchI've broken frames and its not enougha lukewarm black drips from my penas the words spit from my lipsand my vocal cords stretch

and you found god in a lighterand a cigarette packageand i'm still searching

viii

Death, and you (my mistress)

“Why can I only write poems when I'm high?”

maybe its because I don't think about you?

and I don't think about how far away you are

or the fact that you are not next to me in my bed

and I can crack a picture frame and burn its contents

but there's no way to burn you out of my head

with glassy eyes and a heaving chest

I will lay with the darkness in my room

and dream of what it would be, what it could be, what it would've been

as if anguish was a lover and you were my mistress

and I pray in pity to a God I don't believe in,

as if a prayer every night before I go to bed

would stop me from the thoughts that reside

in the residue of a mind drizzled in sadness

and then there's you, dearest

you're like the back of a book I've never read

(I could never get past the first few pages)

ix

I was always too busy flirting with death

(her words were ever so pretty, my love)

but your face was so aesthetically pleasing

(her lips tasted of smoke and rain)

and your eyes could pierce right through my veins

(although her hair smelled of alcohol and sweat)

and you made a man of me, when I could barely breathe

(she took my breath away, like a hurricane)

I guess no amount of beauty or sex

can compare to the thrill in death

x

watch

I've got a pretty watch you gave me a while backthe hands never stopped ticking despite my recent lossin a recent breakdown I attempted to turn it backnow my body is a little less intact and my glass has a crack

I've got black hole eyesAnd a less than whole heartAnd I'm searching for a godthat all my friends like to beg toI mean, pray toIt's all the same to me

And I've been spitting some meaningless shitthe type of promises you never intend to commitjust like I can't committo anything at all, anymore

The holidays are coming upI've noticed the sun setting a little earlyI guess I'll be buying myself giftsmaybe some pills to help me sleepor some whiskey to get me through the daybecause these days are like water flowing down upon my battered chestand this river is running, I fear it will freezeI will freeze

xi

liquidated

You slipped right through my skinI've got an ivory journal signed in bloodDid you ever think you'd make it past the first few pages?I've found solace in the fact the winter sun has stopped shiningand despite the length of the winterI am burning brighthesitant, yet preparedto pick the petals of the girls I have metin a garden of the products of the sunI am not a son to brag ofI will pick you apart and leave you to the wormsoh, dark night skyyou have swallowed me wholeI need a pretty soul to resuscitate what has been stepped uponand the right set of innocent eyesstripped of malice and vainto see me through another nightlying awake,an ocean of loathing liquidated love under a starry sky

I thought you knew this wasn't meant to lastI've broken down in the middle of the roadand my vision is starting to blurMy blacks and blues are off the spectrumand I've got pyrite veinsdo you feel the warmthi am starting to glowand my manic mind is starting to slow

xii

Supernova (slam one)

I'd been living so hard, my veins were running on empty I played the part of Romeo, and you continued existingBut I had OxyContin in my armsAnd you had arrogance in your eyesAs if changing me was as simple as a flat tireI proved to be the opposite end of a black holea supernova, you bit off too much to chew.I was your sunshine, the one who got awayYou followed me to the edge, only to see me scale it to the seaAnd spring came, and we talked of weddings and ringsBut angel lips and serpent tongues put those plans on hold.I fell in love with the Orange of blurred eyes,the coating on a capsule I broke with a knife,I swallowed pills and looked the devil in the eyesand from that point on I was beyond the promise of a church's liesand I fell deeper and deeper into synthetic Angel's lips,seduced by the pleasure of their intimate touch,Locked under whip and chain of a man made plague,family and friends watched as I was blown away,stumbling half naked at a friends party,The party lifeOh the party life was my friendDrinking until my eyes lost visionMy pulse weakenedMy heart opened, perforatedready to lay to rest the memories of a broken personand fill the spot with lack of an interview process

"Your pulse beats dear, and you've got pretty eyes. Would you accompany me for the night? The air is thick with smoke and I am growing lonelier by the second"

The idea of a night alone is frightening,no chemicals to put me to sleepor a face to make me want to wake up,and this way of life is bitter at bestit's a highschool society,

xiii

get fucked up and look for a kiss,roots in broken hearts and family genetics,a cesspool of addictive personalitiesexploitation for the sole purpose of robbing souls and increasing cash flowmade glorified by the music industryBut there is no end, not in sight at leastthe chemical dragons breathe fire thicker than gas masks can purify

So I am a victim of a modern empireMy veins flow like pyrite, fools goldYou do not call me much anymoreAnd I have never been more aloneif I continue to existI will live like Ivy upon a houseI will grow and encompass the doorsuntil the inside will be filled with warmthand I will sell myself for better daysfor a home worth fighting forAnd a lover who won't leave despite my unique circumstancesshe will have hair like the Angels I've been seduced byand endless eyes, miles of beautiful terrain, that I will chart with prestigeher voice will sing me to sleep like a childhood lullaby,until I no longer need my crippling medications

And someday I will ride in the passenger seat of a car, recently gifted to meThe sun will be shining and I will feel freeand the hands of a chemical God will no longer cling to meAnd I will sing a songSing, la la la to the thought of a creatorsingin, la la la to the thought of a new loversomeday things will be okayAnd my pill bottles will have passed their expiration datesAnd I will have moved on past all the friends I made, in the shadows of my highschool lightsthe chemical Angels that fed my ever increasing appetitein order to bask in the ruby colored limelight

xiv

"the blood of your peers does not wash off with water,and no drug can take from your ample grievingswe all fell victim to the pressures of getting bythe game has no winners; only changed beginnersIt makes no breaks for losers,and capitalizes off of the weakit is a living, breathing entityand it takes only prisoners"

And I'll sing la la la, to the thought of escapingla la la, to the idea of growing

I will grow like vine on a house or a child and his ageI will growuntil the dust around me has settledand the eye of the hurricane that surrounds mehas been piercedI will growuntil the sun melts into the skylineand the skyline falls into the worldI will grow

like the number of stars in the skyever expanding,

infinitelyI will growUntil I lay in a cold hard coffin, serenaded by the laments of my familyand I hope that is a long ways awayAs I have some mending to take care ofAnd some lovers I must put to restI am not haunted by the same demons as a year ago,but their shadows still lurk under every bottleSomeday I will be okaySomeday it will all be okaySomeday.

xv

flower (leaves)

Bright eyed lover, you hold my heart in your hands.The flakes of my fingertips are accustomed to your skin.Ive been split apart, ripped at every seamI am the bones lying cold in your dreams

Do not fear, i have nowhere to runI am immobile, a ghost, a walking skeletonShroud me in light, heal this irreparable damageI will be your cloak and you will be my canvas

I've got a dagger in a pen, a blade sharp with inka head full of lies to keep you believinga chemical fire burning bright like a starmilligrams in my veins to keep me subpar

but hey, you,push me aside to let the other flowers growI am malnourished, ripe with apathyand the sun has not shined my way in recent memoryso hold me back, let my leaves grow coldall i want to be is picked and held.

xvi

junkie road

meeting in creaky cars in gas station parking lotsrain pourin' down, not so famous blue raincoat on my backNight is mixing in the sky, settling in over the sunshineit'll be another night fighting off some age old emptiness

but hey, you,the moons turned its head on meand the Suns not gonna be up for a whiledon't look at me that wayI'm indifferent to what you made me

couple pills in my hand to balance my brain,water runnin' throw em down the drainand the days, they're mashingblurry like my visionrainy day eyes, I'm drunk driving

xvii

Skeletons (pickin' sides)

You are walking a dangerous lineand the skeletons in my closet are taking sidesI've got a spindle in my bedroom to wrap you aroundI'll twist you, I'll fold you downI'll stretch you outyou won't be the sameoh, and you've fallen for my manic mindI've got a sun setting every nightbut my eyes are still blinded by the lighttobacco in the air, I've got milligram laced veinsliquidated love in a dark living room

xviii

Winds

Against the winds of calm that reside in me,I write to you in manic hopeTo align our stars for another dayAnd refute these claims of a castle of ashAnd on the nights of black, as I sufferI wear your quiet praise like a collarTight and fit, snug and secureAs my pen scribbles down my poorly written words

"Hollow, hollow headEmpty castle of matchesLight a flame, dissipateburn down these crutches"

xix

5:30 a.m. (a new lover)

It's is 5:39 a.m. and my clocks are still spinningmy thoughts are still coiled and my brain is on emptyThey rest in the moonlight, buried under a cork treeresiding in the glow your touch has imprinted on me

Let me ask, my dearDoes the way you swiftly dot my lines come so effortlessly?The way you dance around my thoughts like a beautiful sonnet,clinging on to melodies and changing their meaningsas if you are the musician and I am the audience

It's 5:50 a.m. and sleep does not come easymy friends and family are resting softlyI have been counting sheep, but you count with mewe count them in a cottage located in a forest

inefficient? Yes, you could sayreminiscent? of better days,days to come, days to build with youMy journey won't end without you on its way.

xx

simply, a verse from a folk song

i met you in the nightwe got drunk on the moonlightbright white moon, concoct a linenow theres a lil' bit of sunshinebut as easy comes, easy must gomy veins are drained, bloody noseand my god is gone, i supposewhen the mornin' comes i'll be on my own

xxi

moon white, moon light

comin down againa long way home, stars over my headwe had a while backand the streets offered no restthe porous black asphalt, suffocating usmirrored the sky, few bumps at bestand the air was laced with silenceBut your glares cracked the mirrorand I am no gypsy boy, I do not have flowers for eyesand the soles of my feet are not blackened like the streetsI do not see clearly, the future is bleakmy eyes are foggy like a London skyI am exhausted, I have been bathed in diamondspyrite veins, I've got an agendascribbled throughout are my plansa few reminders, to not waste awayto live my life like I enjoy the sunshineas if the skyline is my only guideand my old lord, "savior" of my familyI do not find faith in him, anymorehis church has shunned me many timesand when I was sprawled out upon my floorpraying for a reason to livewell, the thermostat was cranked,but I had never felt so coldbut I am not bitter, nor forsakenI have made God into flowersthe gardens I pass by on my way to schoolGod is the eyes of the girl I gave my worldand he is the fingernails that clawed out my heart

xxii

wallowin'

i held it together for a little whilemy off balance brain got the best of meslipped far into a holeman, i've got the bluesmore apparent than the sky and darker than the oceani took a swim, and refuse to dryoh i'm wallowin, don't ask me whymy memories been fadin again,its pretty apparent whythe grounds just a little coldand I'm aching and bruisedmy friends are telling me to take a step backreevaluate where I'm ati don't think they understandbut hey, thats alrightif they could sympathizei'd be worried for their safety

xxiii

(regression)

I have dismantled our memories in a desperate haze of drinksand time has done its fair shareI have found new loves to replace what was shedand to be all that honest, I don't think of you much anymoreyour lips have eluded my muscle memoryI have learned how to kiss new girlsand your words do not rest at the back of my head anymore

but for a fleeting secondon a night when the moon lies lowand I lay alone in my bed, listening to the starsthe thought of the lake takes graspand I realize what we had is not dead, just buriednot to ever be resurrectedbut to lie dormanta hibernation lacking a spring

and I can't help but think we played out a perfect tragedyrespectively ending in a Romeo scenarioan emotional suicidethe deflowering of a first loveintertwined by the loss of identities, and virginities

but as I said before, I'll say it againa fleeting thought that will not mendso I'll take my pills and down a drinklet the moon raise and my lover awakethings will be okaya fleeting memory

xxiv

a poem created and destroyed by alcohol

Your flaccid eyes and apathetic demeanorpraying to a God that doesn't hearthe darker it is the more of a shadow you becomeTainted thighs and lips that circumvent the same words - "hail Mary, full of grace... Hail Mary, full of grace"like a blanket used thoroughly throughout the yearsb ipqripped apart at ever seamthe defining words are scrambled at best"I love you"knitted over the course of a long alcohol infused decadeDidn't mean tk aj thatbut you Can you breeak the barrier, dusre;

xxv

a sepulcher in my head

a sepulcher was made in my headfilled with lilies and burned picturesmy days consisted of chasing a fleeting God, so distracted by the other worldmemories were made and cast into oblivionI lived in shadows under a chemical disguiseglasses to hide my eyes and pills to stabilize my brainbut living in a state of relief-agony-repressed the beauty in my worship of a man made God

Although I felt the lack of compulsions,bitter twists in a manic mind to end my life,my lithium laced Blues were not cutting it

and I watched a withering flowerUnfed, malnourished, ripe with apathyand at that moment I had an epiphanyto live numb is to not live at allsadness is inevitable as is reliefand after years of blacking outsurfing the calm plains of oblivionmapping out my breaking pointsdeveloping my pure bred lamentsbut listen, my sweet dear,

"It's 4 am, and I love youwill you stay next to me, by my sideI gave up my stabilization to feel the touch of your skin,you are so beautiful to me,a man made wonder, like the pyramids or a cup of tea,I want to write you out like hieroglyphics,And decipher them over the yearsYou see, my lovely love, you have set a whole new precedent for meto feel above the ground with a lack of chemical sound,no auditory or visual hallucinations,just your body and the weight of my world on itcan you bare the weight?

xxvi

is there apart of you you're willing to suffocate?because together we can evaporateyou can be my heat, and I'll be the pouring rainand through your eyes I'll lookI'll see the beauty of a gardensimply harvested, no added ingredientsjust the blooming flowers and their utter acceptance of an investable escapeand I have accepted by that death is for meI have come to terms with the fact that I will not leave this world intactI want to cast a shadow upon this placeone that will not ever shrinkbut you, oh you, my loverthose blue and green eyesI just want you to be mineI want to sink into your thighsI want to dissect the clockworks that make you tick,and that's okaywe can find some timeto sit and watch the sunrisehold our arms up, a surplus of lovethe sun baby, if I were to burn upI'd prepare a saga for the likes of youyou have fallen into me like an angel into a virgin bedroomand although I don't believe in a dormant GodI may speak to him but does not replya backseat car affair to an infinite realizationbut it's okay, as I have said before

God is in the roses my beautiful mother trims as summer approachesGod is the way I kiss my lover under the moonlight, knowing things aren't meant to beGod is me, and I believeI have the outlook to change the things that destroy meI have wished for the blackest of coffins,and the greyest of skiesI have wished for an overdose in my sleepBut with challenge comes experience

xxvii

I am beginning to think I can surpass this anguishand With a lover at my sides; and my friends to keep me awayI can find a wayTo let go of the harsh chemicals that surround meto breathe in clean air is a blessingnot tainted with the taste of regret and a a lack of energyAnd I write, write, write,to keep my loved ones be my sidetoday may not be my dayor the next, and that is matter of factBut the beauty of life is serene and infiniteand I will spend every waking second trying to chase itand if I can see one sunset with the love of my lifeAnd make love to the sounds of the OceansideI will cross the list, plan the burialI will have died contentthe beauty in life is mine to graspand I have learned to take hand

so take my hand, and follow methe skyline can cast us away, and we will be happyevery moonlight sonnet the moon feels the need to sing,I will play along and see where it takes meLover, lover, lover

I am becoming the old me.The young one that saw perfection in tressthe boy who was scared to have his first kiss, with the girl he thought he neededI have survived it all, a few scars, but intactand i cannot collapse at this moment, for that would let me suffering go to wasteI am doing better and this all in good tasteI am letting my feelings seep through my faceyou are everything, you are another tasteand I am the one who is playing this game:

I am not lost, but I am not foundI am not begging for a payphone around

xxviii

I can live like a painters canvasThey can shape me, rearrange me,I have not felt the signs of change.

But, as I end in this endeavorThe winds of change blow foreverI am not destined for miseryI am not destined for jubilanceThis world is made for me to take advantage of.

and I will take Advantage of that.

xxix

an ambien love poem

Darling you've got me wrapped around your fingerI write and sing to you of the beauty of the moonThe apathetic Rays that haunt the skylinebut when I look up I only see youin a sea of green and bluean idle ocean pulsing all around meyour love has filled my lungsI cough up words of admirationAnd my eyes are ripe and ready to picksave me the trouble of searchingkeep my by your sideI just wanna be with youintact, fallin apart, ripped at the seamsI want to be stitched together by your hands

Oh darling I am your gypsy boyI cannot predict a future but I can wishyou speak like a fox; your pretty words seep from your tongue,sly but gorgeous,laced with lovejust be my gypsy girl, babywe can make love under the spring sunand flowers will bloom all aroundOh, your ocean eyes, and blonde hairand I'm not sure, I can't exactly rememberbut in the Japanese gardenswhen the sun shined upon the pondi swear I saw a halo above your headbright as the sunbaby you're so brightyou won't ever burn outyou are my sun.

xxx

commercial red

theres a pretty little overdose hangin' in the airand so far i've got the sun on my sideand the mountains have been quite unfair,i just wanted to take a ride

through the autumn fairsand the easter festivals,this year has passed,quite unforgetable

i brazenly denied a gypsies hand,my palm had some undeniable omensbut i was set in stone, stubborn as rockand now my worlds shifting and I'm stuck in the mud

and my idols, oh how they've been a disappointmentdrug induced comas, you all sleep too longtake me down with you, take me downwe can sleep for as our parents pockets are intact

can we be reimbursed for all the love wasted on commercial redI'm just trying to have some diplomatic relations, with youyou need to learn to let me inbefore you wither away inside your tan skinlatin ex lover, learn to reciprocatewaste no more time on solemn men

xxxi

(un)conditional love

I wanna lay some blankets under the sunand tell you all the stupid shit I did as a teenagerripped my body to shredswill you still love me then?if time halts, and I'm frozenwill you still love me theni'm itchin to know,i am a sinner, god knows,i am not who you think i am

xxxii

jesus, didn't die for me

moon white lines across the bathroom sinkoh Jesus, I don't think you died for meself righteous, I feel like you died in vain

the summer skyline is beginning to riseI spent another night simply chasing the starsyou don't need a needle to be a fiendall it takes is a pillbox is and some deceit

a little burn, the reak of hopelessnessA quiet stinge of defeat, I can't see through this hazethis is nothing like my glory daysI function too well to be savedOh, baby, if only you knewthe psychoactive cesspool in whichI drown in, on a daily basisand it's all so complexnothing is simplequittin's an option, always isbut livin' without a lullaby is too hard to handle

xxxiii

my prophet, oh my prophet

"flee, flee! it is not too late to repent"the trees sway, they reek of obligationsunset, in a desert, they rip me to shreds

oh, and time has not yet halted,the horizon is slightly ajarand through the autumn fairsand the easter festivals,this year has passed,quite unforgettable

and so far i've got the sun on my sideas the mountains have been quite unfair,i just wanted to take a rideif i could grasp the concept of angel wingsi think my void would begin to dissipateand i ask, and i pry, and i take no sideswho am i to deny what i find so obviousoblivion isn't as reckless as the prophets seem to claim

xxxiv

again, I digress, my friends

The liquor coated gardens of Edenbathed me in a ripped up blanketThe seams were unstitched, the color fadedhollow and luminescent, unhinged

my lover has virgin eyesher springs of chemicals are flaccidand slowly, my love has become a fallacyplagued by addictionI am no better than my neighborbut he does not crave like meAnd Jesus, Mary, and the 12 disciplesthey did not die for me,no my empty veins are each nihilist

Among barren fields of rye, I have become complacentI beg for a way to calm my needinguncertainty, is brazenly admittedmy shame is irreverentslowly but surely, I'll be damnedthe mirrors hazy image has morphedand I am not sure what I have becomecut up lines, in front of my friendswhen did desperation cross the borderinto absolute embarrassment

Oh darling, if only you knew how brokenI have becomea hollow reminderthat my progress is simply digression

xxxv

flower girl

luminescence, flower girlradiance bursts around me in the form of your dressDo you know what you dothe things you ignite in mea lit candle waxes with innocent lustto hold you until the dusk,me and you, until we rustHeaven let us become dustin an urn with a flower atopand grow, grow we mustwe will grow as one!flower girl, oh precious dear,smile in the sun!Let the spring rains wash you,engulf you in lust,to live, to write, to love, to lastpassionately exclaim your placeand like stone it will be set.Garden, garden, be a pearl statuetteand I can rip out my veins and leave you with that,flower girlentrusted with a fragile loaddo not leave me, leave me alone.If suffer we must, suffer we willBut I can tell you this:I'll love you until the sun's flames extinguish.

xxxvi

paint it black / bend the edges

It's been a couple of yearstoo many blurry sunsets for a teenagera heartbreak, a reason to escapeI guess you could say I've learned how to sufferVacant reminders, a hollowed out churchthe echoes boom with sounds of laughter"where was your God when you were on your bathroom floor?where was he when you gazed out locked doors"I've met a few preacherstheir words offer no answersand time has become an objectI paint it black and I bend the edgesthese days it seems to reboundas i sit in a dark bedroomhearing the scratches of vinylsreading into the pain of my idolsAnd I ask myself"Why is there such an inherent sadness?What have I done to accumulate such a record"and I watch these dignified drawings in attempt to paint me a picturethese psychiatric evaluations to make my condition that much simplermanic or depressive I've got a pillrelapse im back in the hospital

Drugs? I've tried em' allfound god in a binge and angels in a bottlebut this is an unforgiving lordwith cash for hands and lips of rodsthey say the devil hides in his shadow

Drinking? I've partakenI've parted the seas between the floor and meI've parted the seas between my bathtub floornumb and fuckedstared into the nozzle, my eyes burnedthought I heard a chorussingin' of love and hatebut it was just the patter of the dropletshitting the floor

xxxvii

springtime rain, one a.m.

springtime rain at one in the morningIt is me and the moon by my sideThe grass does not sway and the flowers are weepingI fear that I will soon relateMy manic mind has no boundsI speak softly to myselfWriting words I hope to gift in the morning

"Do you burn for a touch,do you lust for a rut,can I pull you out to loveFor you see my dear, I am simply malnourished"

The rain bares a resemblance to my fleeting thoughtsMy mind races like a track, but I have gone offgrid-less and gridlock, I have stoppedfrantically searching for a key to a lock

But youYou, have awakened the netherWhat I thought to be pitch blackhas shined through with a gleampursuant of brightness I follow your leadYellow sky, golden moon, i see a pattern in the seamsof whatever God carefully craftedthe stars are merely but a dreamBut I have seen few angel wings,halos are uncommonbut a blue eyed angel seems to have taken a likingto my hollow body, and despondent demeanorand she has blessed me with flowers and records and laughterI am not certain, and only time can tellBut my gleam has become slightly biggerand wind chimes have sang to mesaying there is a happily ever aftermossy eyed beauty would you like to start another chapterflee from the pain that has gripped our essencebeautiful and pure, like the rain I ran after

xxxviii

the trees with soft leaves to shield me from the thunderpure, purelike a sunset after a long night of disasteryou are the only soul that can pull me out of this nightmaremossy eyed angel, I am enthralled with your presenceprescribe to me a dose of your serendipitous heaven.

xxxix

a trip to college, a cathedral, an attempt

being ripped apart by the decrepit winds of timethe hymns of boarding signs and the sting of foreign faceshow am I supposed to travelwhen I am no gypsymy future fortune is shininga glint of pearl is rustingI've got a chastity with changeand my fear has an iron grip upon meit's simply that you want to escape so badlyyou spend years dreaming of the dayand when the opportunity arisesyour sun has setthe previous years have burned you outyou are nothing but a corpse without a coffin

and here I am, in a cathedralI've got a canvas in my handgonna stain the glass like a paintinggod, well, I'm sure he'll understand

xl

New York City blues

New York, 8:27, there's a stormThe drops lace the window,I see your fingerprints in them.As the lightning caresses the building tops, as I lust for a shock.I find myself bathed in neon lights,From street corners and tvs,My words sprawl across the cityAnd a lukewarm black drips from my pen.I don't know what it is about smoke and rain that makes me miss you,but my mind wanders and stops at the familiar tapping of your voice on the inside of my skull.

My hollow heart lies dormant,with a petty pulse and too many clogs,as my voice does not resemble the thunder.It does not boom or rustle,it is not defined and strong.I am simply the honk of a taxi,a mild inconvenience,quickly forgotten and overused.My words do not flow seamlessly,they do not ring in your ears or cause for shelter,I am not the rain, I do not mask the moon and make eyeshadow drip.

This loneliness pierces me,it is a black hole, vacant and hollow,And there is no end in sight.It swallows everything whole,leaving my bones flimsy and my voice mellow,It masks the gleam in my eyes and beat in my chest,It disintegrates my body and leaves scars in it's wake,I am a black hole.

I write these words and hope they rhyme, as they long for an audience.

xli

I have recently met with what I consider my ultimate truth,An existentialist pleading without root,And it is:I do not wish to exist any longer.I have given up hope,I can only pray the lightning hears my sorrow.

xlii

a constant//jaded, solemn

Thirty five thousand feet abovethe ocean in which I could fallput my faith in flight, kiss the cloudsIt's a little pink outand I can't comprehendhow the moon can stay so abstinentas it gazes, and changes faces,how does it not make love to the sunsetoh, the tale of two intertwined, but distantwhen you think about itaren't we a little similarI can't expect you to understandbut there's a part of me that wants to repentthere's some crevices that run deeper than my skina little void that creates some underlying predicamentsand that ego I've got, you're so familiar ofdoes it rub you wrong?I am confident in what I lack,distant in the information I'll provide,relatively numb to the feelings associated withloss, and it's a general consensusthat I've gone a little off the deep end

"dear me,what's it's like to be so caught upin the ways of the worldthat give so little in returndo you expect to make it,to live a modest life?the way you wallow is amazingyou have made a cave inside a deep seaof apathy and disconnectand lack of moral obligationyou are jaded, it's crystal clearyou are nowhere nearwho you want to beand what you need to become"

xliii

I've lost some sleep,not in substantial quantitiesa manic night on occasionmaybe triggered by some demonsand a ringing in my eara beating in my headscreaming to give it upthe little bit of self control I have

and there's the fact,the constant that remainsI've got an ocean between me and my familyand the sea so far chartedis simply a tiny dotin endless drops of watera waste of space, that took years to interpretI see rainbows in the reflectionand I can't seem to control my cravingsto rid myself of these oppressive feelingsI'm climbing mountains, but the peak is driftingit's the epitome of an equationthat simply lacks a solutionand no matter what stars appear to side with meI'll know that the moon always fucks the seaand I can't win the attention of a beingwho won't give the slightest hint of reciprocation to megod, if you're out there, we need to speakI have fallen into the theory, that this is a great charadeand condemn me if you need,but I am not unshaken in my disbeliefthe beauty of the sun and the trees,the beauty of my flawed genes,is it all a mistakebecause I've been counting the daysand the silence is enough to rot my brainshow me a wayI am lost and so not wish to proceedI am a black sheepoh, I have fallen so far from grace

xliv

silky smooth blades

Rain, rain, go away.The leaves glide in the wind,as they leave a hollow depictionof swift blades running through my skin

Silky smooth water,Prune like fingertips,Grey goose skies,Of vanilla vodka eyes,

Rain, raindarling dropsCome backThe night has not stopped.

xlv

lithium, an old one

I shook off your cool glarewhat happened to those lily pad lipsand those springtime eyesYou have not birthed any babiesor bloomed any flowers

It has been nothing but rain

I've been on so much medication, latelyI've got rainy day eyes and a foggy headand I do not feel, much anymorebut that's okayYou're nothing but a gypsyyou stole my heartand I do not feel without it

You are not springtime anymoreYou are winter rainsI am cold and desolateSo puncture another hole in my heartit's become nothing but a beating mess of cords,there is no rhythm, anymoreIt does not beat to your eyelash strokes

My head is jumbled and it's getting hot hereSummertime is singing outside the doorMaybe I'll find the spring I so desperately have searched for

xlvi

cacti

I sit outsideon my back porchwatching the rain fall.

The clouds are likenot so sober eyes,glassy, grey, and lifeless.

When the lightning clashes,does if tear apart your insides?Does it shake your hollow corethat once glowed with life?

I see myself in the rainthe drops being the words I wish I'd said,raining all around you but you're locked inside your house.I wish we were flowers;I could be a daisy and you a cacti,So that way every word that slipped would go right through your veins,and you'd hold them for months in your core. It would get you through the winter, despite the lack of rain,and my poems would revive your damaged heart.And maybe someday, you'd let your spikes down for me.But I'm cut up and bruised anyways;

I guess I've tried too hard.

xlvii

a silent airplane cabin

I live to bathe in the moments in which I don't existlike when night takes grasp and the house is silentor when you're aboard an airplane in an asleep cabinthe moments in which you are not even merely a fleeting thoughtwhen everyone waking loved one has abandoned their consciousnessand pursuit of moments like thesetends to fight off a hollow, bitter emptinesswhen my sins are unaccounted forand the morning holds all repercussions

a drunken affair in the moonlightcreates topic for a delicate proseunlike the honest sunlightbeating down upon your toesfor a world in which sins under white lightlack the consequences of a pink skyis not efficient, nor realisticbut a murder under the night lightsis material for a folklore

passion flares and loneliness is close to follow,as insomniacs lay manic for a chance to closetheir eyes, their thighs, and the void that keeps them up at night

xlviii

r.i.p. to the old me

Ever since you left its like i've been jadedand not the kind you'd see on diamond wristsor ruby red streetlightsthe kind of jaded you see in bleak obituariesthe kind of hollow you feel when you bangan empty wall, or a broken personbut lately i've been delusional andI've got a pretty watch you gave me a while backthe hands never stopped ticking despite my lossand in a recent breakdown I attempted to turn it backnow my body is a little less intact and my glass has a crackits okay, you were more than just a watchand your memory still burns like a thousand sunsand i have not yet found the courage to live inside new eyesi have not yet found the courage for my final goodbyesto a part of me that could not speak, a fleeting reminderof how i watched you break apart from mea part of me that has more cavities than a 6th grader on halloweena part of me that cannot swim, as i feel the weight of the rain around mebuilding up around my battered chest, freezing me only to prove i can be warmed againby another empty soul and when she bares her beautiful face i will know that it is not too lateit is not too late to be saved by something other than a god,repent to lipstick stained lips and praise the voice of an angel without wingsand when she bares her beautiful eyes i will pray to the stars to teach me how to shine like them,because i don't need a god to be saved by graceand i don't need a heart to indulge in some self pitybecause the high school football star or the local junkie are both no better than me,my veins flow the same as theirs, despite the heroin or steroids,and it reminds me that i am not broken beyond repair, i am only in the processa broken heart will never define me, and the smoke that burns off a cigarette will never blacken me,an unrequited love will not destroy me,and the death of the old me will not hinder my new beginningi am no god but i do not need himand you are no savior but you do not need a cross to save me.

xlix

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