Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Exit Center Stage (2015)



This wretched wrenching like nails down the rungs of my ribcage
Grate in the deep parts of my ear and lock the hinges of my jaw
My throat clenches and burns with the promise of stomach acid
Bubbling and ready to scorch everything from the bottom pit
To the back of my teeth and leave me gasping between heaves

All from the reeling thoughts that raise my pulse and twist my veins
In unimaginable ways, in the invisible hands with gnarled knuckles
Of a silent puppeteer flicking their wrists with a crooked grin
Wet with malice and starving for despair, there’s gaps in the air
Between the breaths I try to take, dancing manically across this stage

The lights are torches, melting the skin off my flailing bones
And sending sparks of thoughts all around my glazed eyes
Images of silhouettes, I can feel the heavy breath of an audience
All familiar with faces like mine in stranger times than this
At the delicate whim of scathing smiles and tired eyes, the bed looks haunting

Daunting sounds as the bones in my feet scrape the ground
Pulling up slivers of wood from the planks all stained brown from the days
That my insides were pulled out for tumbling matts, flat now
From the flips and staged fights, smothered with the ideas of violence
As they were steeled against feelings, made stone from those feelings

Fluttering heartbeats like the wings of a small bird, and those breathless
Moments when a whispered name meant more than my weight in gold
They were fleeting, every single synapse between them and eternity
Sitting cross-legged in a circle of spinning self-doubt let out into a tornado
Of sighs with wet eyes as I sink down and fuck up all the work I’ve been doing on posture

The absurdity of this dance is lost in the din of the crowd, clapping loudly
And standing in the shadows as the bloody stumps stop moving and I’m made to bow
Lower and lower each time, my spine screaming like rusted door hinges
My inside spill out again, just when I thought I’ve mastered holding them in
From the bottom of the pit, to the back of my teeth, I’m gasping again

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Just Drinks (2014)



It’s much louder tonight than I anticipated,
Holding my bourbon-soaked breath, sitting alone
Somehow, still, that anxious thing is climbing up my throat
Despite my best attempts to sour my stomach
And drown it three glasses deep, sheets rustling

Brain’s running on and on and on with all these plays
Playing out different ways, but my pulse is still, my chest is slow
And I wrap my fingers around another dark glass
Cloud the thoughts with thunderstorms as a cold gust
Pushes at my ankles, the cold creeps up my legs and settles
In my thighs, just about the time I lay eyes

And how long do I stare before I catch the cogs turning in there
Her thoughts tumbling into a language I want to know
But as it turns out, I don’t know as much as I’d like to think I do
As she twists the strands of her out of her face, and her eyes light up
Tracing on the faint images of a memory cascading through the shadows
I’m lost on what to do, how to say it, so I just listen and react
The empty dripping faucet making puddles inside of me

I don’t know what I suppose when I let my eyes follow her
As she walks down the length of the bar, am really here
Or has this become a reoccurring dream in which I force myself forward
Through the awkward parts, wishing I was more comfortable
More smooth and charismatic with the world at my fingertips
But there’s just an empty glass to fumble with
When I bite my lip and hope to hell and back that I’m not slurring too many words

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Hold Me Down, Helena (2014)



In this hollow chest I feel the echo coming off the stone
Of this body made of mud and blood and bone
A jagged ornamented mouth slurring everything that comes out
Like a lazy line of rehearsed excuses, regurgitated and useless
Catch my eyes for a second longer, I’m hoping I catch fire
I’m hoping that you’ll burn this wicker body to the ground

But in these empty veins bellows a cold breeze of memory
When the vines were wet with life and lust and something more like hope
So hard to set stale air ablaze with another pretty face
Twisting your hair away from your eyes while I try to note their color
It’s all just a ruse, following a motion of this play running ad nauseum
Waiting for that curtain to loose itself and crush me below its weighted, frayed skirt

The footsteps and the words get all tangled up in the cold
As the slow few seconds evaporate like the clouds off your lips
And how am I supposed to act, warm and stupid from liquor
Fumbling over a few words, substituting them for what I should be doing
I know better than this, but somehow my numb nerves made a fist
Of panic in my brain with all the old redundant worries growing like weeds

And in this hollow chest I feel an echo coming off the stone
Feeling the wrinkles in my brain wrap around a simple concept
More foreign than I remember, but guiding me in an empty dance
To parlay with the somber parts of the day where the sun shines too bright
And my head begins to ache, I force myself to get excited
When there’s literally nothing to just another name