I've put your words on a stick, so I can cook your thoughts over the burning of my need as it flickers like a serpent tongue licking air.
Drinking in the light bouncing off your face, I brace my throat for the tickle, and I wonder how bitter my gut will burn at the embrace.
You slide down smooth, like childhood memories as they're made; nothing can prepare me for the reaction of the beast in me as it consumes you.
You feel like lust set in stone along the edges of my sanity, framing fences to keep logic in the structure of desire stretching true.
My fingers itch at at the tip as though not having you is an infection I can't treat with the remedies in my mind.
Breath gives out at the graze, overriding my instincts as I descend into the riddle of pain and healing as they battle will.
Nothing can prepare a man for his undoing, when he chooses to ignore the cause of virtue decaying into promises made unaware.
All my statements float on wind currents circling the edges of your ear, and you don't know where I've been before.
Inside the exchange of you and me, neither of us know how deep the trail leads, but we must walk.
Our feet tread on mistakes acting as tripwires laid by malicious hands, always seeking blood to water the pores.
I'll save you from it; you may not see, but I promise you will feel me trying.
I promise you will feel the heat, dripping hot from future scars before they scab and shrink.
They are fresh, newly acquired lacerations, you press your hand to slow the spread of sacrifice.
It might get harder to ignore the signs that speak of tragedy waiting in ambush.
We can face them together, somehow joined tighter than either of us had originally planned.
Our vision, limp from exhaustion, can't see clearly to navigate through the thorns.
We will both look like nightmares by the time this is over.
You say that you prefer it this way enough to try.
I reach for meaning in the air of your tongue.
You can taste my blood when I find it.
It tastes like tomorrow arriving before it should.
Let's just not answer; forget the knocks.
They ring ugly through the door.
We refuse to answer it.
We say a prayer.
You say goodbye.
The spellbound house,
That sits upon remorse.
Perpetually decaying; the bottomless basement.
Sinking into sorrow while you forget,
All that you thought you could understand.
Vacant windows spattered with the grime of degradation.
Staring through, consideration of your neighbors' view; deceitful praise.
Lock away those skeletons in your cupboard. Abandon the key.
Hide away those sibylline stowaways that cling to your cryptic cobwebs.
Consign to oblivion the treats they try to teach; your godforsaken sanity.
Spiral with me, down the drain, trying to catch your second string morality.
The thoughts you bear as you wake, can't compare to the disgrace you create.
Each morning you spend counting your calculated calumniation, deciding to cower in your sketchy sheets.
Earthly scenes of fallacious delight, sleeping through the lawless night; your waning aspiration for gospel truth.
It's a slow burn, fanning that flame. Forever playing that dangerous game. Detonation of your dreamy candor.
Will you ever remember the days, snug and summery, that your silver tongue caused relief and not torment?
Vexation clogs the pipes of my love. Yet here you sit, complacent behind these crumbling walls and fading passion.
I can hear those singing ghosts, with their troubling moans, and even they wish you would change; all in vain.
The weeds have overgrown; choking the foundation, splitting it at it's strongest points. Birds of a feather, this dwelling and I.
Where once the hills and trees bloomed with lovely regard, caressing our committal, now only lies barren; a stark and dizzying reminder.
Acknowledging your flaws came easy and swift. Still I sweep the floors and rummage the drawers, searching for that ever missing, shattered piece.
In the corner sat a cardboard box; hollow and looming. I'd open the lid, and resting inside was our forgotten ideals, left to rust.
It did not surprise me, those damaged fantasies. You were always a ticking time bomb; ready to break, and willing to take me down too.
The stars above converge in a cone of light, peeking through an open window. I sigh, my wayward rapture lost to the glow of the night.
The panes in the glass are cracking. The wind is whistling a melancholy melody. The dusty air is suffocating, and I long to feel the sun again.
But through your blatant mendacity, my callow folly in believing you could rise from the ashes, I sit in this empty hall, watching the swallows of our affinity.
the stars fell out of the sky
onto the pavement before my eyes
and i looked up to see the lightning
winking at the clouds in the sky.
and then i lay down on a green patch of grass:
my sanctuary from this world of honest apathy,
pathetic honesty, and camped out in my sarcasm.
then the rain poured down on the pitch darkness again,
like shooting stars, and my dear asphalt
twinkled like sunset glittering in
windy, warm autumn days.
wintry winds come quiet
and paint the mountains white
to calm the bleeding autumn and welcome stormy skies,
and the frosty snowflakes spelled your name.
i built me an army of sunset clouds,
my storm in disguise;
let me conquer that faraway look in your eyes
while you dream.
i walked to forever, asked infinity for your whereabouts
and the guardian of heaven
led me to your castle of clouds, your home.
and when i decided to waltz down the staircase
to green earth and flowers in the rain,
you came to me again.
and took me by the arm and asked me
if i loved the rainbows beyond the moon
and clouds so high.
i said, nay, for i loved the purple past sunsets,
the blush beneath your eyes at daybreak
for evermore dancing;
i loved each cloud on your brow,
each star that twinkled in your eyes,
and all your stormy lies,
and every truth you told reflected my soul
in a million shades of hesitant excitement
before your storm.
when evening brushed your air
with stars like glitter everywhere,
i loved your dark wings like clouds;
and when you floated by with
the moon on your wing,
i loved your silver sins.
and when i could join
the constellations on your palms,
you loved me a little,
or so i thought before i learned
that the darkness would burn
stardust is the only crooked truth
in this revolving world of empty lies.
you and i shall spin forever
in this universe of silent void.
you and i are made of
sixteen billion year old stardust.
the sun said you're pretty,
the moon stole your heart.
all rippling like stars in the sea,
and when all the world is falling apart.
come, my storm, for one final minute.
before we die into last dust
let's smolder for another forever.
then we shall wait
until all life