The summer sky at night is alike to any other
Empty of all light aside from stars that sputter
Flicker out of sight
Contending with the moon to see who is most bright
A tight race, neck and neck
The moon borrows its light from our own little speck
A traitor to the stars
Equally as dim from some other planet, far
Feeble, just the same
In this desert ocean, we are not but one small grain
I know the taste of bitter truth
It can’t be cleansed
It’s of no use
Sweet tooth curse
No curing me
Ever seeking words to eat
Getting more
Exceeding what I bargained for
Flavor out of question
Swallowing them whole cuts out all the guessing
Ingesting fact and fiction
My feelings seem like fiction
Fantasies on page
I feel I’d explain easily
Only face to face
All is wasteful all the while
Bound to scare away
It’s not a lack of words
Just no proper way to say
To win
To gain favor from afar
All this ink accomplishes is making me seem jarred
Unstable and obsessed
Maybe it’s due time to put it all back in the chest
Address it for a move
An unknown destination
Maybe someday I’ll find you
Old pine paneling
A tarnished bedside stand
A stack of classic books
A pen, some ink and sand
A mirror hung askew, as if to make a statement
The way I often see myself is subject to displacement
And evident in my surroundings
Cold steel frame, old boxspring sounding
Drowning all else out
The screech of antique coils, bearing weight with doubt
A stout box of cigars, empty for a century
So hollow and profound, like it really gets me
Let me ramble on
Or simply walk away
I’m bound to change while you are gone
There’s just something about me
You can’t quite point it out
It makes you want to hate me
Makes you want to shout
I doubt you’ll ever know exactly why this is
Or why I had to choose you
From out blue, it seems
I don’t even know why
I’m like a broken compass
Useless little trinket, sentimental loveless
The heat holds me down like bedpost bindings, not allowing me to rise
I retreat underground, hid from the sun’s eyes
I sigh, the cool air suspends me
Dante’s icy hell has never seemed so tempting
I’m four feet, hopeful for six
Ready to cool off in the dreadful river Styx
A smile
Those eyes
A graceful tongue
Unconsciously, a web was spun
Stunned by beauty you exude
High cardiac magnitude
My crude heart was badly shaken
Though I doubt you meant to take it
Mistakenly, you captured me
Lovely spider, lowly flea
You can’t release me from your web
Eat me or leave me for dead
Suspended, hanging off every word
Snared by silken letters
No longer hidden in the fur
An unwanted passenger, praying for life or death in open air
Groaning joints and weakened limbs
Sickly little tree of sin
Slim and sinuous
Like a whip
Of mort-flesh, cut in strips
Ripped apart by stormy weather
The skies aren’t likely to get better
Severed from the pretty Sun
I live rooted in the mud
To immortalize myself for my own sake is mad
That’s why I write of you, my only muse, so that
Perhaps the joy and captivation you do seed in me
Will spread like graceful wildfire
Take hold in the ink
Sink deep in the hearts of anyone that reads
Though you’ll never mean to them what you do mean to me
You are the sea, you are the sky
All beyond, between
You’re my sweet everything
My pain, my shame, my greed
If indeed fate was less cruel
You truly would be mine
Not simply some stray, lovely thought
Immortally on mind
I drink the sweet nectar, though it comes not free
Everything sweet is a poison to me
Needles and skin punctured
Blood from my hands
All to keep body and life in command
Demanding daily structure
Like a pagan sacrifice to ward that devil, sugar
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