Tagged: relationship

On a Date With the Wrong End of a Ciggarette

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I could stand another

I only gagged a few times

and the jock itch nostril

keeps me drinking.

Dante’s inferno mid stomach

coffee, ciggarette, shots

and I burn through the interior lining

of a twisted stomach.

I can see precipitous eyed rain clouds

and the coming of dusk

around their eyes

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Addiction

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Isn’t it just like a man?
Sitting, watching the swaying hips
each conniving turn.


She slithers
through the blue cigarette smoke.
I do things differently,
doorways for suckers.
I brace for impact,
through layer after layer
clearing out foundation after foundation
taking years to establish
but moments to dissipate.


She pulls at the meat
twirling it between her fingers
throwing it from her talons
into the air
to her tapered beak.

Could we all be monsters
demon lurking in the night
loitering under street light
looking to the painted faces
and the saber tooth heel?

What could I feed her?
What cherished memories sacrificed
for the next high?

 

 

(I do not support; strongly condemn the type of misogyny in this poetry,(though it is a perspective in society that needs to be addressed) she’s intended to be terrible because of what she represents, NOT because she is a woman.)

Wavering in Dark Places

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The ground was cold on the night

Foe became more than friend

The leaves fell from the trees

And your tarnished hands

So softly held the last flower

In bloom

But your hands hold no water

And the sun

Is yet to be seen.

And just like every beautiful

Offspring

It choked in your grasp

If I could place you in the recess

Of my memory

Trap you in the insanity of my mind

Tighten the grip

Thirsty, crawling

And celebrate

Dancing in your anguish

Me and my demons

Prancing

Revolving,

Prepared to feed with lustful eyes

And the needs of a lonely lover.

Priorities

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How could I love you

When the breath you

Breathe is another man’s

In the modern world

A person’s quality

Is weighed in empathy.

Did you mean any of it?

Or was it your guilt that

Drove you to deceive me?

Do you have time

For my playdate?

Or am I sent to the

Back of the line?

The Call of the Wild

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An equilibrium

Between pleasure and pain.

A pros and cons list

I’m running into the dark

Through the cracks

Between teeth

And into the belly

Of the beast.

She yanks my leash

Tethered to her belt

She is a walker of dogs

And I am meant for the wild,

For the freedom in independence,

Individualism

Isolation.

I jump into the abyss

Into the vastness

The sweltering stomach acid

But she still holds me by my leash

Suspended in esophagus

A moment between isolated liberty

And affectionate constraint.

The leash tightens around my throat

Her well to do

Tender noose.

At a Moonless Night

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Howling at a moonless night

It’s so easy to translate my rejection

To your tragedy

I cry out in pain

To think of all of the

Crescent’s I serenade

With wailing nostalgia

With returning moments

When I have nothing else

When reality hurts too

Much to bare without

You

Howling to an empty night

I translate rejection to

Self-destruction

Cujo

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Though I hurt you before

My mouth infected with golden hang nails

Puncturing feminine skin

Nerves tap dancing like bursting

Boiled alive blisters

Though you’re the broken heart

I hunt and stalk

Wild and crazed

Possessed by rabid anti biotic

Coursing through brains

To the putrid formaldehyde scrap of my brain

Spawning personal feral entities

Naked

Knuckles bruised

Blood painted on concrete walls

Hunch backed

Eagerly anticipating the kill

To leech and destroy

For the joy

Of watching beauty die

Sen(non)se

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Same sad song

Same plain chorus

Of heart break

Self pity pop song

The I so malieable

It seems we all play off of

Cliché, clichette, shit in the red

Solo cup

Cheers, beer, insincere

And the million excuses

That make it her fault

Responsibility is drained

Like crushed cigarette bud

from stale lager

The barbed downward spiral

The words make a cell

my dull quill scratched away,

“escape”

in the aged cheddar walls.

 

Choke Collar

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You deceive me
With your hand against
my bruised cheek
and the other excavating
my insides

“see”

I didn’t know
That the lining of my stomach
Could thread me through
to neck, to noose,
to bumper

Of snarling
Rusted
Shell
Of what was once
Potential

Before snow snuffed
Up jolly noses
She traces back

sunny side up smiling
Burnt to the asphalt
Road rash face mask

She crams my resigned inners
Twisting
What once was
A man I was proud of

Now
macabre
Dirty laundry
Stinking mildew
And self pity

She picks up reanimated
Affinity
And locks me in a glass room
Scratching at crystallized pane

When it breaks
And I make a run for it
The choke collar tightens
Knowing happiness
Is quick at the tips
Of your grasp
And never quite
Obtainable.