i loved, i lived and i lost, ghosted and roasted by an egregious flame that sputters and flickers

chasing shadows across the lawn, invisible puppeteers and the strings they tug and yank,jerking movements and motion sickness on full display

my soul is a greasy soap bubble floating through a forest of thorns, anxiety and ill advised momentum, thundering forward, leaving a trail of pass regrets

put on the spit, a slow process, skinned, and seasoned by the shadow of need, the convenience of necessity, close but no suitor, the name the same the want left wanting

reclined and fit for succor, laborious and in need of contact

a ritualistic sacrifice, painted in blood, a spark of animalistic need, left emptied and strewn upon the promises meant for another, shallow breathes and idle whims

awry, unsuitable, incomprehensible, almost but not quite right for the purpose of fidelity

haunted by the quiet echoes

i said too much, showed my hand too early, made a fool by my own words, my emotional outreach, beached like a whale,suffocating in the air i so desperately crave

all i have is words, all i know is what courses like a fever through me, a plague, a sickness, embolistic, a voyeuristic aneurysm, clusters of naught but illness and discomfort

god are you there, it’s me manifest destiny

can you hear my words, is this silence my punishment, what did i do, why am i made into a trifling thing not even deserving an answer as to how i fell so far from your grace

it is the lack of understanding that makes it so bitter

belligerent and ignorant, grief and this insane cyclical repetition of sorrowful insanity

unsavory characteristics of this suffocating inability to forget and just move on

fucking pounding hammers of shame and self loathing, the need to let go and the same self destructive tendencies to cling to the grenade, waiting for the explosion that finally ends this laughable miserable inane game of cat and rat

no one could ever despise themselves half as much as when my eyes open in the morning and i know it will be another day of wishful drinking and inebriated bloody knuckles

on to the first of dismember, all different all the same, cutting words populating this erroneous facade of living, take the first layer of skin and liberally apply lemon juice, the burning means it is working

eventually the sandstorm has to leave a bloody corpse in it’s wake

jumping through flaming hoops while dousing my self in lighter fluid

i can be better, dance pretty, say the right words instead of the real ones

the first lie i told you

the last

annual comeuppance come early

choking on the words unheard

looking up to watch the guillotine fall, pull the rope, pull the goddamned cord and end it already

goddess knows i cannot do it myself

another failed ruse, yours to peruse, abuse and toss out with the rest of the refuse, just remain my sweet muse

your miscreant of secret machinations, imaginary vagaries and self unfilling philosophies