Monday, November 28, 2011

astaire.

this must be some type of anorexia
I can no longer fathom words
too much time
it takes
to think

something is wrong

this brilliant mind has stopped breathing
this must be some type of disconnect
burnout fold in
the edges are burning
the burns are creeping in from the outside
there isn't much time left
we creep like smoke in a vacuum
don't try to stop me from leaving this way

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

the eclipse happened, and kept happening.

the obscured obscene
I detailed the events of our rise and fall in the older issues,
flipbook heart,
this is how I remember.
each one like a war, lost or won (very few)
each one like a life, burned through and used
the one thing I remember about you is
how addicted I felt
I just wanted you around, always
breathe the air together in the same space
to have our bodies parallel horizontal always, my arms
wrapped around you like a tourniquet
your warmth
permeating me like my own little sun,
and I could bathe in you forever,
and we orbit each other,
silent dancing in the vast vacuum of cold
but we are not
.
forever is always just a word
and words are just lines
and lines are just straight
and straight is direction
my direction is forward
with you without you, I break away
I really, really do want you
but I don't need you
any of you










there are those that love, truly love, and then those that just play the role they are supposed to.
but never know the difference.