I believe in predetermined lives, mine written behind the scenes. Invisible men with cluttered desks racking brains over a single word. Work it, babes! Mine can't be as creative. Too busy forging hair from marble and brushing teeth in acid. Gotta look good for the starving dogs outside. Think green, my little pups! We can save the world with spoiled banter! Tomorrow I'll walk into a burning building and save a few orphans, then maybe I'll find true love in a clichéd showdown. Life's so simpler when my paper forefathers forge this personality for me.
We've awoken from dreams of scripted households to a nightmare of a microwaved world. Instant gratification comes to the front door dressed in blood-stained Gucci, a warning tattooed on their fingers: “They've planted viruses in suburbia. Run for your lives!” No one's hip unless they run in a square and we're driving comatose. A shanty town has been built at Lincoln's feet, held together by dollar bills. The residents listen to eyeliner symphonies sung by an army of underage prostitutes (we gotta soften the shells!) Everyone plays Big Brother today since their peers shoveled artificial sweetener into the corneas. Dear uncle has decorated our faces with a money shot and asked “Are you full?” We're not even half.
I'm the bee's knee's, the cat's pajamas. A clean bill of health on my mind. Where's the beef? I find it all in a good year's work. Another day another dollar. Money makes the world go 'round! I save 15% or more on car insurance and so can you! Sign on the dotted line, let's have lunch! We can discuss the endless potential of plastics over some coffee. I take mine with creamer. Got milk? On sale for $29.99! And if you call within the next 5 seconds, you get this anti-zit cream FREE! So just call or send me a txt. Your need is our concern.
The uniformed men came in to sweep our town of organ dealers and smitten lovers. A posse of dust figurines met them at the city.gates. One proclaimed: “Let that which bends be eternally justified.” There's a boy lost in the town square and a girl atop the clock tower brandishing her sniper rifle, arteries high on sunshine and eyes flickering like static. She pulls the trigger and a bullet kisses his chest, leaving a cross. Borders were ripped apart as dolls melted into the salty breeze. We've been exterminated for the good of beating hearts with only a few hands missing on the incident report.
"You'll always be mommy's little angel" she told me Right before I stabbed her in the neck with scissors Red geyser pulsing like the lies from her mouth The gash could never match my lacerations Constellation of terror adorned on my back Family nights of "beat the failed little sister" Dear brother can't scream in ecstasy anymore His neck caressed with a jump rope from the ceiling fan Daddy will never mark me with unrestrained pleasure Too difficult with his dick in a meat grinder Bastard family wilted as frosted sunflowers The abused became the abuser (eye for a knife) Wearing that crimson shoe, I am finally a princess
I owe you everything including the world My muse, reason, goddess. My skin and scar Show the view behind goggles, infatuation tint Everything is pink through your eyes To me, they're all gray with no feature Distortion without interruption or force Television snow flickering on a bad porno Static moans with no climax in sight This is worthless and nihilistic Like a guardian angel in peaceful moments My phone replaced with your poem Badly worded, littered with false emotion The moon gets ugly when it's all we see The sun gets cold when it's all we feel I'm so sick of seeing your face when I dream Stuck to me, my magnet of feces and shrills The reason it's better to just be alone sometimes
I remember the snowflake dancing on my neck Like a figure skater carving death threats in ice The cold wouldn't faze me, not what I am now Happiness died on the floor of my home years ago Crimson jewelry decorated my love, a junkie's catharsis My child now dreaming green in a tipped-over crib The world has become as New York City Frozen in it's own animosity, tainted with noir Screams of my family pushing toward the final word A bullet screaming in it's trail to the witch responsible Maybe I would find solace in the Valhalla of revenge Maybe I would finally wake up from the American Dream
When I walked into the apartment, a tourniquet was already wrapped around her arm as she was injecting the brown sugar within. A body thin as icicles in spring sat in a throne room adorned with pizza boxes, empty beer cans, and paraphernalia. I gazed into her eyes and saw an innocent child smothered in nations of sepia smoke, yearning for a hand. The Heroin Queen flashed me her smile, teeth yellow like sunflowers. A garden I've frolicked in several times before. She asked me if I wanted a shot.
“I'll pass, thank you. How long do you plan on living like this?”
“I'm not alive. I've been dead for years. The gak just keeps my heart beating,” she replied
“You know, it doesn't have to be this way. You can always quit,” I told her
“To cease the drug is to cease breathing.”
That's when she nodded off. I walked over to her and gently caressed her hair. It was black confetti falling off into my hands. Leaving the apartment, my thoughts turned to life in general. How promising existences can turn into septic ponds in a split second. Back in the day we dated, it was a beautiful thing. The two of us reciting poetry to each other while the stars smiled. She said: “My love caresses you like a storm around the earth, rain dampening the depression inside. Let me hold your body as we melt into heaven like angels on fire.”
And then there was my line: “I want your essence in my blood, the unrestrained rivers flow. Let the dams burst with the intensity of our love and watch the world drown.”
Now she was loveless in her own gulag, the only feeling being craving. I wanted to tell her my heart beat only for the black-haired beauty. Nothing could express the regret to make her understand. The needle was an abusive lover, severing all ties she had. That night it killed her.
At the funeral there were only five people. No tears were shed since everyone saw it coming. The Heroin Queen looked at peace in ther coffin, free from the bounds of perpetual abuse. The pastor said some words about Heaven but I wasn't paying attention (anything would be bliss for her now, even if it was an eternity in fire.) My only thoughts where the “what ifs.” What if I saved her that night? Perhaps the two of us would be on a mountaintop right now instead, forging a reality that would put any romance novel to shame.
After they buried her I stayed at the grave, gazing at the horizon. The sun was hiding from this fretful day behind a white veil. My Heroin Queen is the sun, and I the veil. Together at last and forever, only in the skies. Only in dreams.
Joined the parade early in life Psychiatrists and therapists Marching to the tune of textbooks They gave my sorrow a name And I melded to the diagnosis Bipolar breath reeking of failure Sliding across the asphalt of anxiety Too long knocking at depression's door Knuckles bruised from fighting with myself Looks, actions, inabilities, and mistakes Reasons I'm constantly fighting this war All battles taking place in the mirror or head Wishing to fight you/them instead Too terrified to fire at those potentially innocent This alien boy just wants compassion Where friendship and love lay dying in a ditch For men steal, women lie, humanity shrugs The misanthrope is just a romantic who sees clearly And God knows he loves you all
Exhausted all resources Now a wasteland of flesh The mind is a chronic illness Vomit stains on self-image A cancer growth on sanity And me, the walking infection Trying cures of razors and pills Daily therapy with a noose Like trying to kill God Suicide is not a physical thing It always happens within Long before the deed takes place I've been dead for a decade now
There was a time when you and I Blind to the tight hand of life Would sit in an inclined field Under an audience of stars Discussing the worthlessness of life You would smoke a cigarette or two And I tried to warn away the cancer That smile could burn it away A giggle and a puff, then exhalation You claimed to be a rebel It was nailed down at the time No interest in school or authority Then there was me, angelic by comparison Ready to obey anyone intimidating enough You knew that and took it with stride My tattered goddess from across the tracks All chains rust and break away I won't bother with the mundane details Five years ago it was a personal apocalypse But the world still breathes softly Sometimes when I smoke a thought is born That beautiful face in teenage mold “What if?” tattooed on the forehead It's brushed to the side, forgotten No use to dwell on ghosts You could be swimming in the sewers Frolicking in heaven with the perfect man It all means absolutely nothing to me