Velvet

And the time has come.
To put into text.
My mind.
It feels so good.
To write again.
To type again.
To feel the click of each key,
Sliding beneath the tips,
Of my flesh.
To find and search,
For something.
That has never existed.
To feel the heat,
Of my hard drive,
Humming away on my lap,
Warming me with energy.
To see the florescent glow,
Illuminating my text.
Keeping me,
In a fog of light,
While surrounding me.
With velvet black.

Trip

A philosopher took me to see an acid trip.
On the thinest wire, in the center of Allston.
Spinning in little drips and webbing in massive webs.
Singing and sting and running all around my head.
Hollow aches a mourning heart.
That pumps on empty, blood run black.
A tired trickle that makes you sick.
An awful frighting sound.

Feast


There are these things that emerge from the darkness.
They crawl into the light with grins in their eyes.
And smirks on their minds, teeth white and wide.
Looking for a feast of flesh at least.
To satisfy their quench for human hearts,
And blood soaked passion.
Stinging the air with a poisonous stench,
Made from the depths of hell,
Which rots our noises with a lingering oder.
And all the while, we sit and smile.
Hoping to become their next meal.
Helpless and hopeless, just standing around,
As they tear us limb from limb.

Drunk

Humanity is such a fragile thing.
It quietly bubbles under our blistering tongues.
Fizzing in the hot baking sun.
Of our brittle hearts.
Choking our grasp on reality.
The meaning which we strive to find.
And the belief we pretend to be blessed with.
Sting hollow veins with morning breath.
A tyrants tear in late May's bloom.
A tender touch of human thought.
Blessed are we who follow truth.
For light wanders not into into darkness,
But into black.
On which our heavy hearts migrate,
Into tar burdened shoulders,
Shrugging endlessly into horizons grasp.
Holding our fingers while we dangle.
On the verge of sanity's depths.
Forever mourning on the thin reach of God,
Who holds our souls within eternity.
Forgive us for our sins.
And lay us down to rest.
For only you will ever know,
The taste you made to give life breath.

I Can Imagine...


The way your throat moves, a vibrating tickle as you talk.
The face I make when I forget to knock.
And when I meet the girl you truly love.
Lying naked on your bed, looking up at me up above.
And the way your hands move, scratching down my skin.
Covering my mouth so no one will hear you sin.
The way your eyes squint in the scorching sun.
And the way you said you only wanted to have fun.
And the way our bodies move under your cotton sheet.
The way you always turn away, every time we meet.
The way that I lied and pretended to be her.
Same body, same face, slowly did I lure,
You in with this girl that I'm really not.
And the way that I cried on this and caused the ink to blot.

Molt




God gave you up.
Deformed you and beat you.
Settled you on a dove's back.
And let you fall from grace.
And your mother was ashamed.
Cried and cried every day.
Called you every name.
To break your heart.

"You've got the lot to burn
A shelve of pig smotherd cries
Is there a spirit that spits
Upon the exit of signs
Is anybody there
(spines in a row)
These steps keep on growing long
(spite as an arrow)
Bayonet trials rust propellers await"


California


There was a knack, in my brain, in the back.
A simple little tick, every time you would lick,
Or stroke my hip, and try to bite my lip.
It was a secret concealed, until it all congealed into.
Rubbery goo, who the hell were you?
To say that love is a thing, maybe a diamond ring.
And that all I was, was a fuck just because.
And you waved goodbye, while I was flying high.
Under silky black skies, both concealing our lies.
And holding your hand, your skin kissed with sand,
From the shore of Cali, but not unlike Maui.
And every time I closed my eyes, asking all my "whys".
And begging for time, maybe to just mime.
The mimics of your voice, and give me the choice,
To sleep in the crease, of your arms at least.
And I know you couldn't care, and it's really only fair.
Because I set you up, like when I sank the last cup.
And pulled you aside, called you one hell of a guy.
I love you for a moment, and gave you up like lent.
But if it's all a stain, on your pulsating brain.
And I'm not the one, to soak in your sun.
I'd rather rot away, than remain quite cliche.
And say unrequited love, is what I'm in the habit of.


RedRum

Your thick milk white bones.
And the crunch of your knobby knotted spine.
Give me this peace.
An overwhelming sense.
Of darkness.
And night.
Drown me.
Until all I can feel.
Is you.
Wet and warm.
Spewing blood onto me.

Sting



The moisture sucked from your mouth.
Soggy and stale.
Breathing in and out.
The sour air.
Puckering your lips.
With every gasp.
A new lingering taste.
Clings to your teeth.
Begging your mouth.
For a wave of saliva.
To wash away.
The acidity of my kiss.
Venomous tongue.
Pink with poisons.
Wet with guilt.
Soft with love.

Skin on Skin

The slice that your flesh makes.
Cold against mine.
Sends a shiver.
Across my spine.