when you

left

i was not sad.

i had already

learned

to wrap myself in loneliness

and let her sing me off to sleep.

the void you left stayed empty

like an artist's empty canvas--

til i saw it wasn't empty

but only

painted

white.

Licking rotten guts,

Moist pus and mucus,

Farting in to cups,

Sicker then Lupus,

Kissing badger butts,

Covered in verrucas.

Never wipe or flush,

Washing in my sputum. 

I'm Gruesome.

i swear 

if i see 

the word forbidden

in one more queer poem 

im going to flip my shit

the cliche is tired

we are all tired 

of being forbidden 

in your poetry 

in poetry 

you can be anything

you can be everything

you can be free as the wind 

you can be as true as birdsong 

and you can sing 

sing your love as song and true 

as the lovebirds do

Another day in paradise

With creatures emerging

From their shelled existence

Living life with purpose

Ill-defined and

In prep of

Death eluded by

An everlasting afterlife

Sunday crawlers burned

By candles of forgiveness

All too human

Carrying natureʼs guilt

A heavy coat worn in

Drowned constitution

Salt numbs their wounds

Pain stinging with reality and

As they wade in their ocean

Losing consciousness and

Bloating with stagnant despair

They brew some more coffee

Attempting to manage the day

A little blue

A little green

A little truth

A little beauty

Blue aligns with space

Green aligns with life

Blue inspires grace

And green - delight

Mix these two as one

And see that they become

A combination

Of mind and fun,

Heart and cranium