Coagulated
It's surprising the things you find
out about yourself at 3 o'clock
in the morning,
lying on the living room floor
head spinning with drink,
mind racing with regret,
wanting so desperately to send
that message, yet knowing it’s
inviting the devil back in,
granting the succubus access
to my vital organs once more,
like the drag of the needle
tracing silhouettes of angels
wings down my arm, veins
clouding with the junk of us.
More
Are we ever really happy?
That gnawing, clawing,
insatiable, teeth gnashing
feeling that there's more;
more to experience,
more to explore,
to love
to fuck up
to lose.
The feeling you're just scratching
the surface of life.
That there's not enough
hours, minutes, or seconds
in the day to discover,
pursue and accomplish
those things that were
strategically placed
just out of our reach
in the deepest recesses of our soul
inexplicably linked to the very fabric
of who we are.
There's always more.
There has to be.
I Used to Want to Sail the World
I used to want to sail the world,
now it hurts to say your name aloud.
We swore we would tell each other
when we fell out of love, that we
wouldn't waste one another’s time,
but it came suddenly and
without warning.
I can count on one hand
maybe two, the times I dialed
your number thinking just a whisper
is all I needed.
just one word
followed by silence,
*69
and the imagined shock of
realization across your face.
That's enough excitement for tonight.
When you walk away from eternity
does that exempt you from heaven
and hell?
I just need to know if it's too late
to hedge my bets.
I hear reincarnation is nice.
I could come back as a raven
or maybe a silkworm,
and weave my failures
into a nice sized duvet.
I used to want to sail the world,
but now I can't be in the same room
as you without losing the ability
to conjugate vowels.
It was always vowels with us,
our arguments always ending in I-O-U.
Not to say the times in-between weren't
the best we ever had, just that the edges
were sharp and the cuts were deep.
I used to want to sail the world,
nowadays I just want to right the ship,
keep it safely tucked into the harbor
and moored to the shore,
far from the uncertainties of what lie
beneath the surface of the deep.
