Sinking

I’ll kill you with the last bite,
ejected from my stomach with forced might,
just so you could let me down easily
…it never does get easier from here.

I can’t take this anymore
but wait, I’ve said that a hundred times before.
Will this be the last time? (laughter abound)
I won’t be here to find out (heaving sound)
Killed by hindsight,
the pain of repetive spilled guts,
another lost fight.
A street corner, toiling for a warm drink,
Out of body, lost control,
or the rational ability to think.

Prepared to sink with this ship,
I’ll wait here til the next go around
Onlookers gawk at the final trip
those who knew watch me drown.

The view from the outside
worse with each blow.
The gutteral churn of a real-life,
B-rate horror show.

afraid.

Knocking on the door, and I know I’ve felt like this before. This road led to an impasse, all I had, but that’s all gone. What has gotten into you? Maybe I never knew, maybe we never do.

I can’t hurt you from here—I can only hurt myself.

This coffee is stale, or maybe it’s my mood, does it really matter to you? Mine is the oil contrasting the ocean—black out the rest of the world. What has gotten into you? Maybe I never knew, maybe we never do.

Bleeding hearts of every color. Until the pain makes room for more.

I’m afraid. Afraid to go anywhere, to do anything. Outside I hear people move, from place to place, town to town. So you think I’m cool as shit, when I’m losing it, and I’m done with this. No more appeal, throwing shade on all that’s real. I will make this place my home.

Uncomfortably until I’m numb. Comfortable, and then I’m done.

ANTS

Piss on this nonsense,
You can’t make believe
with something in a constant state of sleep,
wakes when you’re not paying attention,
a surprise every time.
Wet dreams, drowning in sweat,
thinking “is this the best it will ever get??”
Can’t conceive of another way to take you on,
but it’s all a joke anyway.
These tattoos won’t dissolve,
when we thought it was a good idea,
and now that’s gone.
Mistakes. Pulled skin.
Tightly absorbed and interweaved.
This feeling almost pulsates, without origin, without a home,
cause you got no cause for alarm,
just the call of infallible silence.
Your head swims in it.

Here among the crowd, the people marching like ants
walking the mall,
a dedication I’ll never understand.
We aren’t alike- that’s cool.
One more tab under the tongue,
fools, everyone of you.
I am nothing like that,
breaking a pattern I never understood.
And it really makes no difference.
We all march sooner than later.