2 a.m. waiting for a hot chocolate outside the plexiglass protection
at the Twin Donuts. Two youths besides me, one clearly calming
down the other. “i got so much anger in me, people talking about
the shit they do in rap songs, I actually do all that shit. I terrorize
people. I don’t know what i would do if you weren’t here.”
there was a girl in my college, a while back,
who was just an arrogant, entitled brat. One
day during art class, her hands, blackened by
charcoal pencil had left markings on her porcelain
white face. she was the beautiful girl I had ever
seen.
we let the hands, disembodied
embrace us. originating from a
place just beyond comprehension.
the strong grip holds steady,
tethering us to the unknown.
but we let it, because it feels
warm, familiar. like home.
these inky, black hands which
have arms, arms that stretch
backwards into a formless nothing.
but we let them. what purpose does it
serve, than to feel something, anything.
a genuine contact with an outside world
that justifies our internal chaos.
to be loved, to be held, to open yourself
up to the unknown. to be grasped by
a thing with no origin. a knowledge that
vibrates with reality. these hands grasp harder
never to let go if we allow it. they choke,
strangle and throttle when the times become
difficult. they knead, probe and crush …
but we let them.
there is no grand explanation, no time for apologies
there is no reunion. there is no need for second hand venom.
what words we can have with each other are
lost to the darkening skies of time.
do not mourn what is lost, let it become brittle
we have parted ways, and that is that.
starting as strangers, and ending as strangers.
square one. the world keeps spinning.
not affected in the least.
we sift through so many
liars, fakers and thieves
In our lives
Our true self begins to
erode, with every tiny
contact, skin on skin
flesh to flesh
our bodies rub away onto
the porcelain prosthesis
that houses the fake ones.
our good can be bruised,
and our hearts can blacken
but no one can lie worse
to us, than ourselves.
so in that, we can laugh,
Laugh away at the phony
masses that come in
Onslaughts.
they really can’t hurt us
with their thin, fractured
words … their ill conceived
promises. they are mere
hiccups of reality.
we are the ones who can
cut them off, square them
away into the recesses of
Our mind. we truly have
the power over ourselves.
a hand grasps at your soul
tugging, tugging to an
unknown destination. It is
Your own hand, the extension
Of the third eye.
unconsciously, but ultimately
your decision …
will you drag yourself down to the
darkest depths, or will you pull
yourself up into the brand new
world that exists solely for you.
of someone I haven’t spoken to in
a long time. It felt like a burst of
energy that strangled my lungs when
she entered the room. Quite innocent
in the beginning, we planted ourselves
in the middle of a bed in a non-descript
room. She held a VHS tape in her hand
to play, we were an inch away from
each other when she brushed her face
towards me to start the movie. But I felt
the cold-wetness of her lips slide over
mine for the briefest of moments. The trail
of heat on her face brushing on my skin.
My brain began to melt, disintegrate and reform in
my pounding skull. that feeling was a crackling
thunderbolt through me, and I sat there
agape. Just feeling her near me, awestruck.
She looked at me again, and I pulled her closer,
eventually on top of her, pushing myself down hard.
So close, so close that we would de-atomize and
become one with the bed … I wake up and I still
feel her lips on mine. I’m staring at my cell phone
with her number there ready to be called.
I applied the gentlest pressure
to the palm of my hand,
sinking you, slowly.
the gulf between us, too wide
for any words to be heard.
the inaction, pulverizing my
spirit. I was better than that.
better than a curt reply.
your hands snake about
my ankle.
dragging me down with you,
but I don’t care. we submerge,
our flesh underwater becoming
a vibrating mirage. I try to laugh,
but the sound catches in my throat
with a gasp, when I realize what
I am doing, what I have done to myself.
the gulf between us has vanished,
but our silence has become deafening.
I want to embrace you, hold you
closer to me, closer than anyone
else before you. so we both can
disappear beneath these cold, cold
waters.
