try to speak, but nothing comes out
blank word bubbles
I'm barely alive
alone in a half-empty apartment with nothing but regret as my roommate
the air is so thick with tension that it's keeping the walls propped up
my love, she's still out there
unreachable by any definition
this pit in my heart feels like a gunshot wound
like a black hole in my chest, gaining size and mass
this silence is deafening
I'm sorry I did this to us
you're all I ever wanted, you're all I still want
I've learned the worst life lesson
I can't get you out of my bloodstream, I don't want to either
I miss every inch of you

please subdue your anger and find your way back to these arms
that have loved you more than anyone else ever will

the struggle method.

and there she comes up again
batter it down, silence your grey matter
put a muzzle on your heart
your  co-workers are starting to wonder if you are holding it together
(you aren't)
and there she comes up again,
ten more emails to respond to and the "hold" light on the phone is blinking red
and your eyes are wet, and you can't concentrate on anything
your chest feels like there's a mountain on it
this is your day to day now, and
this is
all
your fault
lunch time but you have no appetite, so go to your car and let it all out
just make sure you collect yourself enough before you go back inside
so they don't know
it's been more than six weeks, when will this end?
has it ever been this bad?
and there she comes up again
how is she doing, what is she doing, who is she with,
the one thing you want to do is the one thing you can't
this silence is the loudest sound you've ever heard and it's killing you
this is
all
your fault
if regret was clothing you'd be in coveralls and a snowsuit
you ruined everything

I hope she knows just how deep she lives inside your heart
I hope she knows you'd be willing to do anything for a
second chance
because everyone deserves a second chance, and so do we
___

the blankets we wrap ourselves in.

I am a thousand tearful apologies
rolled up in a carpetful of lust
and tossed into a dumpster,
nobody saw us, let's get out of here.

you are blind anger and irrationality
a temper tantrum in a space station
weightless and frustrated, without voyuers
insisting you are the victim.

if your goal is to move to the Arctic
it's easiest to pretend cold is the only temperature
that warm never existed at all,
and that summer was your worst experience ever
tell everyone you know how much you hated sunlight
none of those are true,
but it will make the ice that much more appealing
it will close all doors but one
it will make your self-imposed choice so much easier

you'll never sweat again
never feel the touch of water against your skin
never smell those blossoming colors
no more birds chirping in your ears
but at least you'll be submerged in solitude
protected
because that's what's important
I guess

we have pictures of your giant smiles in the sun
memories of your best Augusts ever
you're only lying
to yourself

all the love we leave behind.

do we place blame?
at the height of happiness, in the depths of our lowest lows,
flowers left at the graveyards of a thousand lost lovers,
entire city streets that should have been choked with the traffic of our love,
instead abandoned and left in mourning
do we place blame, does it even matter?
at any point in time
throughout our sordid histories
we could have made it work
fought for it with tooth and nail
actually made it work like how they did a century ago

is the one that we stick with just the one where we run out of spirit, or pride?

I'm as perfect as I am immortal
"I never had a halo, I never flaunted wings"
I only know what my heart feels and what my flawed brain tells me 
learn and move on
try to smile

I swear I die a little each and every time, I feel too much
I can't love as hard as I do and lose as much as I do, 
I can't 
don't let the procession march through yet, I can't wear black again

this is exactly what I was afraid of in the first place,
why I couldn't let you in
because I knew I'd eventually be here
wearing black

I'll leave a flower for you every week 
and I'm not blowing out the candle

have at me.

CAN YOU HEAR IT?

can you hear it?                                                                                         CAN YOU HEAR IT

             CAN YOU HEAR IT?                                                                                            can you hear it?





can you hear it?
because I can
scratching at the walls at night
the cells in my blood, screaming for it
I can smell it always
in the air
already in my lungs

fists fall away, 
we haven't even passed "go" yet
our two hundred dollars have been squandered
and our bronze game piece has been smelted
we've stolen, gambled and lied our way straight to the bottom
oh,
yes, 
this is the bottom
look around
the blackness 
it's yours
you created it

breathe

welcome home

 

withering away to everything.

I tore          you                          apart
without hands, without tools
made it so your penmanship was unintelligible,
and tar and feathered your silhouette,
so your promiscuity would be anonymous to the future me
a new old stranger
because I still feel the tremors,
such upheaval,
when your Earthquake Love hits a new town
your seismic affection shatters me,
and every other man gripping at the grass to keep from falling off of the Earth
another is undulating
smiling
to death
mistaking the convulsions for peaks, not valleys
Richter Scale reverberations

I can feel you under my feet, even cities away
I wish I could fly,
if only to not feel you anymore

my glacier.

entire landscapes inside of me
petrol veins
nitrates and concussive memories of loves lost
this is a different type of war, a different type of apocalypse
there is no smell of gunpowder,
just perfume residue and bleach

I'm not sure anymore of anything anywhere
especially you
my glacier
glasshouse
guillotinewife
the initials were pressed into the metal,
but they corrode in the blankets of ice

I am the soldier in the field, but I do not fight
I lay down my weapons and raise my arms in acceptance
close my eyes
smirk and nod

this is what was meant for us all along

born again from the rhythm.

she saved my life
I don't remember it, but she did
held my limp body in her arms as she
carried me down two flights of stairs
all ninety pounds of her
all double that of me

what happened after that?  did I walk into the hospital on my own?
did nurses come out and put me onto a stretcher,
like in the movies?

I woke up

even that is surprising to say, because I might not have
but I woke up
in a hospital bed, my first ever
psychologists asked me questions
interns, medical students were familiar with me when I had never met them
they knew what happened
I didn't

I'm sorry, and
thank you.

heels over head (correct).

my love,
when god didn't come home, finally, we became estranged
terrified of inconsistency and the revelation that perfection was dead
my love, we tried to make it work
you were drowning in dogma and I was numbing away certainty
who's shoulders felt more weighed down, after the collapse?
who demanded a right to feel gloom?
I'm sure years later you're still milking these tribulations for all they are worth,
my love,
who abandoned me in my greatest time of need,
/they found your conscience wandering the hillsides,
muttering incoherently and without clothes/
they found fragments of us scattered across miles
our legend will be our aberration
how we forced the pieces to fit out of pure reverie,
and then were shocked when the machine came crashing down,
my love,
as the years pass, so will my mixed memories of our curious experience
like an animation forcefully made real, given life and then murdered callously
we drew the characters and background in fading ink
oh my love, to whom you pledged death before us ever parting
enduring, immortal, in perpetuum and infinite
I'm sure you drown in concern and compassion from your friends and lovers
I'm sure many men have gained advantage from your woe,
my love,
I still remember you crossing a parking lot in Ohio, in disbelief
I still remember kneeling in front of complete strangers in the middle of an airport
/I can also never say the name Rene again 
or run my fingers down the length of my many permanent scars/
you crushed me in ways that Hollywood would spin into dramatic cinema
but the punchline lies within my reach, my love,
because my contentment is pure and abundant and my prosperity eclipses all
my love.
.
I couldn't have made all of those mistakes without you,
so thank you,
in perpetuum,
infinitely,
forever enduring,
for your 'love'.

she brought it up.

in the house made of balsa wood,
we commit to Ornithology
Ornithology Ornithology
injecting microscopes into veins and interrogating the atoms
"where did you go, those nights you didn't come home?"
"who named you, and your unstable orbital?"
I count the number of my victories like the pattern repeated
I check the boxes
tear apart the guts of each corpse to see how it died,
and what it ate before it ended

I press on,
drowning in Id,
Ornithology and the documented autopsies.

maelstrom heights.

these are the shakes
the crescendos of my skin feel like the world is dying
we videotape the end in Wrong Choice City
play it back over and over until the images burn in our memory

of tempermental and erratic breath,
we struggle in chains
you contemptuous man
how are they even still talking to you?
in the throes of dependency like waves in a storm,
waiting for the next wagon to fall off of,
waiting for it to pull you under

these are the shakes, yeah
and in times like these, no one is safe
I manufacture false realities daily, and justify hell on earth
"if they only knew", man, I've been saying that for years

and yet if I could just lock the door and leave,
condemn the house,

and yet if I could just lock the door and leave,

if I could only

just leave

St. Baldrick's 2013

also posted on the St Baldrick's website as my "personal message" for my participation.



My girlfriend is one of the most beautiful people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting; both inside and out. I never knew of St Baldrick's until I was introduced to it through her, explaining why she had extremely short hair. Swearing up and down that she wasn't a lesbian (something that happens more often than you'd even think it would when her hair is short). Not that it mattered too much to me, but she had a great reason.

The cause is an amazing one, a cause that I think pretty much every single person can confidently get behind without too much examination. It's heartbreaking to think of the pain and the hardship most of these kids go through on a weekly/daily/hourly basis... but it's also so emotionally powerful and compelling to see so many normal people donating their hard-earned money, time, and hair, to do whatever they can to help. It's hard for you to not constantly be teary-eyed, your heart surging with hope and positive vibes. Yeah, I'm not usually "this guy."

But this year I'll be taking a seat in the barber's chair and letting them take my hair away again. Last year, her and I managed to raise over $2k between the two of us. But really, I'm not taking any credit at all because it's all her. What type of woman does it take to have her head *completely shaved* for ANYTHING, let alone a charity? Do you know what it's like for a woman, a normal grown woman, to have a completely shaved head in today's appearance-obsessed and perfection-obsessed society? I sure as f*ck don't, but I can damn well imagine that it cannot. be. easy. And 2013 will be the 5th year she's done this. What type of man would I be if I didn't follow suit, knowing full well that men walk around with shaved heads every day and she's the one that would *really* be taking a huge leap (once again). She can do this, and I'm just going to sit back and applaud from afar? No thanks.

Some types of heroics are so outright inspiring that you don't even have a damn choice. (even if my girlfriend looks like Sinead O'Connor for a few months.)

So yeah, I'm not taking any credit or looking for any appreciation, I'm just "following suit" as it may be. Please donate towards mine or Carlee Resh's goals, and read more about this brilliant charity. Because kids are innocent and full of love, and dreams, and hope, and absolutely NOTHING should be allowed to stop them from carrying these out. This is for your future kids, and our future kids. And thank you for reading this.

a dance.

these words that slip out of my mouth
they do nothing for either of us

either I have trouble with how utterly small I have become
or I need to prove myself
or