4230

I dream of endings
stripped from beginnings
and middles torn to shreds.

I dream of oceans without shores
ancient myths and beasts of lore
Burrowed deep in their depths.

If I dreamt of mothers without babes
and babes without fathers, would I
be dreaming fantasy or just myself?

If living is only good when I’m high
tell me, why do so many insist I try?
If I don’t see the skies as blue
but instead a darker, more sinister hue,
do I need to pretend for the comfort of lovers
or find a different way to feel less smothered?

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4130

I was in a rock band
when I went to bed last night
we played deconstructed covers
made out on stage like lovers
when they heard my words
they roared
when they heard his chords
they soared
I soared
I scored
and when I woke up
he didn’t love me anymore
(Dreams are just
skeletons in caskets)

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4030

It’s hard to hear
you’ve lost
when you’ve done everything right.

It’s hard to be
with just yourself
when you miss loving tenderness at night.

It’s hard to know
yourself as lovable
when you can’t find a person to love.

It’s hard to rely
on tired pop culture
when you don’t have the words yourself.

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3930

Honeyed words
poisoned intention.
What he wanted
I knew.
What he got
I wondered.

If I’m still there tomorrow
I’ll get a lollipop at least.

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3830

She closed the door
to her refrigerator
leaving behind
the beer she’d promised,
to stare in disbelief.

If she could eviscerate
with an over-ripe zucchini
she would have.
Luckily, she couldn’t?

We kissed goodbye at the front door.
She said hello before I reached the car.

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3730

I wish I could love you
like I once did your lover
but I can’t even drink you
when not undercover.
It’s not that
I wish you didn’t stay
it’s just that
I wish you’d never prayed
for a single solution
then engaged in collusion.

If I had emerald dreams
they’d fade into cyclones
and rabbit screams.

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3630

My greatest weakness
is a strength
so to better it
weakens me.

I need to be
that which I am
but to do so
I must become
that which I am not
first.
Then I can be
that which I am
when what I become
won’t remember.

My dream is for survival
to stop hurting.

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3530

It’s as much my life force
As the ichor in my veins.
A tonic against nihilism
A balm on half-burned expectations
A blessing, were blessings painful and crude
A backdrop of my self-portrait nude
The only constant in a life
Lived too long yet still short
Of Atropos’ knife.

(If I could kiss moonbeams
and sunshine
I wouldn’t need it any longer)

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3430

Could I be an inspiration?

Could you drink me
like I drink your dreams
on canvas, film, in sound?

If I paid the price
could you spend me in turn
writhing between your thumb and index
while you grin at my ecstasy?

Kiss me, or I die from longing.

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3330

If I were a unicorn
stuck in human skin
it’d make a lot of sense.

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