Sick Of Chemistry

The veins are drab and empty now

Contents dissolved to the airwaves

The sunshine is my rainy season

But I find solace in this dry wall prison

Consulting with my aluminum friends

We try to find the best way to kill wisdom

Tie a warm noose around its foundation?

Or feed it substance to keep it silent?

Forget it, all of this fills me with a sick lust

I'll just give my body to the wind instead

99 Percent?

You were never satisfied with the beauty of poetry

Though you claimed to have it in your heart

Once revealed, all I saw was a chest of ash

The cremations of so called “terrorists” locked away

Who were probably just naive men looking for love

Mislabeled to justify war crimes and atrocities

Like an ex president with small dick insecurities

I would say that all trust for your kind is gone

That you stole it when you stepped down

Into the arms of ingots and flesh fireworks

But we both know that would rival your lies

No, this lamb will continue grazing in the fog

Until the wolves lure him away once again

Worst Poem Ever

Skin caked in Hell’s ceramic

And I do not give a damn

Impressions are for majorities

I’m a rusted needle in a landfill

An eclipse no one sees

Motivation is overrated

The crowd chants “Go!”

The mirror yells “Stop!”

Bless Me, Yesenin!

Forget sunshine
Fabrication of Helios
Stalker's orange eye
Hidden when sought
The false cure

Dandelions bleed
Black ice drip
To grass undeterred
And a lovely oak
Dressed in winter
Sings “Boys Of Summer”
Outside my window

Damn the girls
Speaking in poetry
Sonnet love notes
Iambic break up letters
Thought I find the one
Twenty five times wrong

Damn this place
Dried shell off orbit
Ground to brimstone gives way
Weightless depression reigns
Pushing down the sky

Wave goodbye to Russia
I, who crumble
As ancient castles seized
World's last speck of warmth
Constructed to subpar knots

Watch me swing
Left
Right

Then stop

Dark Comedy

Wrap your spine around me. Squeeze tight so puss blasts through the pores. Take some pictures and make a collage entitled: “Society's Downfall” Please don't mind the mess. I've been cleaning it up for decades. The filth simply falls from my tongue and fingertips. In fact, this yellow and black mess is the most beautiful thing I've seen in a while. It'll be at home here if I don't scare it off first. Don't bother hiding that culpatory glance. You have the eyes of my mother, the lips of an ex. There's nothing that can please you here and I can't buy your respect. I can't even afford it for myself. Someday the aluminum floor beneath my toes will swallow me whole like a steer eating shit. They'll bury me in a tuxedo of rags and torn jeans if I don't beat them to it.

Lassen Sie Gehen

There's a girl weeping in a solitary womb feeding on lust and desire. And there's a boy with stagnant eyes burning a hole into a foggy mirror.

This is another brief reflection of a romance broken and left to die. Neither of us knew what we wanted, my love, and it ripped our appendages into giblets fed to a beast that only exists in nightmares. So close we came to wrap our arms around each other's cold and pale bodies. So close we came to tying our heartstrings into a perfect noose. I don't believe in God, yet I prayed every night to meld my lips with yours. But the match cannot kiss the fuse without predestined eradication. Black nostalgia swims in our every word. Let's let go of these rusted chains that bind us, honey. Let us smile at the heartache and move on to the labyrinth of future days.

The girl burns a hole into a foggy mirror with eyes like lakes. The boy lies motionless in a solitary womb feeding on loneliness and grief.

Autumn Rose

Depression hovers above my skull like a black helicopter following my every move. I'm an alien on my own planet, out of place and just flat-out weird. A misplaced step can cripple my bones and one person's rejection can set me on fire. Flammable flesh afloat in a creek of gasoline polluted with their words (like matches). They'll sometimes sit next to my bed and grasp my hardened hand, asking how I feel. I tell them I'm a rose wilting away in a grave of autumn's leaves.