Me not Walking

I can feel you searching me, looking for some soft spot to attack or some part of my body that doesn't have your claw marks on it yet. Those lips I used to kiss so much hide fangs and you show them now. We shouldn't even be in each other's lives. Neither one of us does the other any good and we both know it. But its this stupid fucking game we play. Like children. Constantly taking little pieces away from each other. Small loses and even smaller victories make for a never-ending war of attrition. When you get me good I smile and brush it off because I know that frustrates you more then anything I could say back. In this fight its not who is the wittiest or cruelest its who can hide their hurt feelings and shattered ego the best. I've had enough. I want it to be over. If I was righteous I would just walk or maybe tilt my head back, give you my throat or some major artery and say "Take your best shot." See how much you got and how much I got in me. But I'm not. So inside I'm sulking and raging. Plotting. Maybe I'll go lower then you ever thought I would. Hit harder then you ever thought I would hit. Crush you and watch you limp away broken. I don't want to. I don't hate you. I don't even care anymore. But I'm tired. You're slowly killing me-one phone call, one text message, one off handed remark at a time. I'm bleeding out and I hate to lose.

Walking Away

When the time comes for you to leave you can't idly walk away, eyes looking over your shoulder, arms reaching back. When you leave it should be a mad, desperate sprint. Never looking back. Never regretting your decision. Don't leave one foot in the door and foot foot out. There is nothing there but fear, awkward conversation, insecurity, and a yearning for the past that will tear up your insides. When you decide to leave someone, leave them completely. If you can't do that you're not ready to walk.

Shadows of You

In a dream I had last night
Your words,
Soft and delicate
Floated off your tongue
And danced about my head.
In my weariness,
I believed them
With all the devotion one gives
To shadows in the dark.
One part fear.
One part wonder.
And then morning,
Like cold water on my face
Back to a world
Where snakes don't whisper lies
In the dark.

Peer Pressure

Your life, it has any significance to me at all. only serves as a reminder of what I am so desperately fleeing from. I measure myself constantly against you. I don't want to poison my body anymore. I don't want my muscles soft and weak from lack of use. I want to learn and learn with passion and vigor. When I love, I want it to be a hard and loyal kind of love that doesn't flinch. I don't want to change you, I want to outshine you. In everything.

Perfect Storm

I am an ocean
Of great vastness
And intangible depths
And you
You are a great storm
From some place I have never seen
On to some shore I'll never know
Fierce and all-consuming
You draw your strength from me as you pass me by
And I give it to you freely
Then your gone
Off to some distant place
Ravaging and destroying
Always taking
Never giving
You leave me here
With calm surfaces
But underneath
I stir and whirl about myself
Less now then when you came

Cesear's Palace

I remember you coming home from the casino. The way you smelt of cigar smoke and stale whiskey. It was a masculine smell, like strength and answers. And every night when you said you broke even I believed you. I was young and naive. More then that I trusted you in the way only a son can trust his father. Did you lose it all slowly? Or was there one moment where you gave it all away? Pocket Aces. An Ace high flop. Your heart jumped. You fancied yourself a hero. Bills paid. Debts forgiven. In that moment you were the perfect husband and father. You shoved all your chips into the pot without thinking. This one a house. These few a wife and two kids. Hundreds of tiny plastic pieces of all of us. Everything into the center. The quickness and confidence with which he called your bet startled you. Carelessness and egoism made you miss the flush draw. He hit a spade on the river and in a moment you lost everything. You cried as watched him count the chips. On that day I was born. The dealer took me up, wrapped me in green felt ripped from the table. I cried uncontrolably for nourishment. They called a cocktail waitress with bleached blonde hair and a butterfly tattoo on the small of her back to nurse me. She tried her best but her silicone breasts yielded nothing. I cried. The pit boss pityed me and dipping his fingers into a comped gin and tonic baptized me. A fat man from upper management came and collected me from the casino floor. In a small upper room I was poked and appraised. He took out a spreadsheet from a filing cabinet and listed my name under the profits column.

Coward With a Pack of Matches

My truths exist briefly. I ramble for hours on blank pages and then burn the evidence. My words melt. My heart a white, dancing whiff of smoke that dances upward and disappears forever.

Staring Down Myself

In the darkness of my room I sit on bended knees. Eyes shut I try not to force it. Tell myself to let it come. I pillage the dark crevices of my mind. The past is elusive. It hides itself in the muddled voices of shame and denial. Everywhere it treads it leaves it's tracks. Deep scars and tightened chests. It begs to be followed. I sit in silence poised to ambush. I carry no weapons because I seek not to kill but to understand. Both of us before each other in complete nakedness. In the illuminant light of perfect clarity it asks me to come to terms. To accept. Drape it around my shoulders like a trophy.