Consume

A burning white heat from above.
Did nothing to change your direction.
The day you came to tip the world over.
Feasting on the fragments of my life.
The little memories that get caught in your teeth.
Pick and poke through the gristle of my dreams.
What is here for you to digest?
Which part of me comes upon your silver platter?
I watch as the blood drools from your mouth so sweet.
Fresh from a kiss that left me breathless.
I held my tongue.
Which bled into my heart.
Feeling your fingers on my spine which pulled out each vertebrae.
Held aloft to see the spineless state I am in.
Heaped onto the floor in gesture of subservient decay.
So now pop me in formaldehyde, and watch me distantly up on the shelf.
Just glass and meat.
Eat raw parts of my heart that now struggle to beat.
Sweet delicious demise.

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Lemonade

Like I wouldn’t know you’re the reason.
Before you, there was such terrain.
Speak your name, quietly with religious respect.
Licking you like I would a sweet prayer before bedtime.
Tasting your wonder on my tongue.
Excuse me if this makes you uncomfortable, you just don’t know the marvel you’ve become.
I box your words like chocolates.
Closing the doors in my soul and opening the windows.
Slipping in to your loveliness. That day, the day the avalanche came.
That’s who you are.
Dipped in brilliance. Making me walk like a cat.
So happy to show me.
Dress you up like a store front window. Make me bow.
Bringing my happy back again.
Take me there.

On the other side

I love you.
If you remember nothing else from this time, please take this with you.
I need you, something I think you’ve already forgotten.
Not like a bed to sleep in, my turned soil and coffin are suffice.
It goes deeper than that. On a cellular level.
The blood coursing through me, gravitating to you.
I’m starting to forget what you look like, your image is dissolving into the hue of memories that in time evolve.
I’m forgetting the pain, I’m dispensing the sorrow. This death is bringing about your redemption and better features.
I still want you.
These words are whispered silently into the night. As the moon shimmers longfully outside, I pray into the silver space.
How dependant should I be, is this something I can help?
You cultivate this separation, you support the absence like a presidential election.
You have your supporters, funnelling money and motives your way.
I love you.
The repetition is forced psychology, hoping to ingrain in your temporal and transient mind.
Happy New Year, merry Christmas.
A part of me feels so distant, I fear I might miss this.
The other side of tomorrow, when I’m making love to your ghosts and talking to the corpse of us.
Ten years from now, beyond the heartache. Where my heart is linked to the IOS and artificially pumped, barely alive and memory erased, deleted.
I love you.
So repetitive. Beginning to rob the words of those most majestic meanings.
Goodbye. I’m sorry.
So reparative.