Last Gasp.

Grasping thinly weaved strands. Gasping on thinly available air. Clutching tightly with wilting hands. I turn my head towards falling earth. Blackening sky above. Feeling the empty fall. Dashing through space; breaking every bone. Tragic figure with a lost cause framed in cold.

Conflict.

Staggering mass conflict without thinking of possible ends. Wrapped in my own disaster wandering the fallow ways. Uncharted paths ahead. Candid sweetness failing in our conversation. Rancid word splotches cover the floor. Trying to score bitterness for pleasure; heaping scorn.

Terror.

Laughing in sharp teeth, tounge licking slick, you give a moment of terror deep. Hair waving tender tendrils sweet lightly touching me. Wrapped in rapture fierce, surrendering my restraint. Giving the moment an unique flavor, bitter straining quick letting me in. Eyes fixed. Sensory depraved lacking experience, taking advantage you move in. Silky hands as shackles bind leaving me in certain I will die.

Grandparents.

The grandmas in my youth lived in haunted homes smelling of dementia. They roamed their halls cursing their bones in regretful hair curls. The grandpa's lay in forgotten tombs with clenched teeth smiling. Laid down to rest away from wives roaming a maze of dark halls winding.

Thankless.

Laughing thankless sounds ringing in covered ears. Bringing tears welling up like rivers. Moments flashing bulb brief. Thanking leer. Laughing thankless sounds biting. Open in gruesome wound. Yelling in excellent harmony. Quiting after the full moon. Laughing thankless sounds buzzing. Swirling above my head. Maddening drone hacking. Deep probe diving. Reverbing end over end.

Sounds.

Laughing thankless sounds biting. Open in gruesome wound. Yelling in excellent harmony. Quiting after the full moon. Laughing thankless sounds ringing in covered ears. Bringing tears welling up like rivers. Moments flashing bulb brief. Thanking leer. Laughing thankless sounds buzzing. Swirling above my head. Maddening drone hacking. Deep probe diving into my brain. Reverbing end over end.

I hide.

I hide plainly for all to see. I hide openly, you can look at me. Desperate eyes searching for a miracle cure. A long suffering illness of the forbidden fruit. Original sin festers, itching for absolution.

Flying Man.

Flying man. Flying man. Dropping from heaven's height. Red streak rushing pushed in gravity's pull, bullish to make his ride. Dropping at sonic speed with death in tandem, which will land last.

Your Eyes.

You accuse me with your stare of crimes you've not seen. So sure of my sins that I am but a convict to punish at your feet. With your eyes. In a state of consternation, pregnant with a regret. Don't let blind torture drive the hand holding the cutting edge of our dysfunction. Come in close. The door, won't it beckon to flee, running with tears streaming digital tunes? Sad eyes playing to a blind headlong rush.

In Turmoil.

In life tossing and turning, I'm shaken awake by the furious action adrift. In my disintegrating lifeboat lit up red by dimming flares, the darkness beneath; showing glittering fangs, beckoning me to fall within. I hold on with a slippery grip. I shake with the cold wetness of the churning sea. The rations sustaining me dwindle and I look ahead to the scowling horizon pit. Where does it lie, the safe harbor fantasy?

Too much.

Too much of a sideshow
It's how much I let others know
About my feelings about you
Not much left to show.

I let my heart sit wet on my sleeve
I let too much leak off of inside of me
I give too much
I give too much away

Emotions riddle a landscape
Swollen streams rushing noisily
Feelings run unabated
The only sound: drip, drip, drip

I let my heart sit wet on my sleeve
I let too much leak off of inside of me
I give too much
I give too much away

I want you to see
How much I think
Your image haunts me
How much I yearn for it

I let my heart sit wet on my sleeve
I let too much leak off of inside of me
I give too much
I give too much away

But you never notice.

Little Death II.

I set out almost every day to find it. That quiet moment which is the loudest sound only I hear. A brief stretch lasting an eternal instant. It's a journey everlasting, enclosed within and sometimes failing. It's the little death.

Infinite.

Standing here, infinite. Waiting in the realm of blades. Paper cut of endless hurts, I pull myself together once again. Standing here, you're wielding the blades rhythmically. Skillful assassin, romantic butcher, carve into me the long blade of your insistence. Your way of blood, in Love.

Little Death.

The little death calls to me with promising whispers and built-up expectations. It wants me and wants, with increasing demands, an offering.

Flame.

My hands burn and are consumed. Blackened, ashy streaking fingers, aimlessly searching the quenching relief from the flame. Burning desire flares and dwindles with familiar end; emptying fruitlessly. It burns.

Simon and Marceline.

Funny how I notice now Simon and Marceline never interacted. But goofy Ice King had done The Vampire Queen a great kindness. Long ago Simon encountered tiny Marceline in the rub-ble. Alone in grief, he soon found her a bright spot she named Ham-bo. "I'm hurting you because I love you," Simon would say when Marceline inquires; why do you come to my place uninvited?

Haphazardly.

I got clumsy and said stupid things. I got clumsy and words fell haphazardly. My words spilled out, blasting out like scattershot. And left your heart in pieces. We throw accusations aimlessly; sticking to walls in crimson patterns of rage.

Imperceptible.

My mind is blank & I cannot find the reason why. It's become hard to find a calming line to explain the wounded expectations. I cringe in horror lasting for imperceptible seconds. It all passes by, tearing a path deeply cutting a gash that festers uncontrollably & I cringe. Model me a life beyond the pictures & articles. Construct me a lie I can simply follow. Make-up a script I can memorize with easy troubles.

Hunger.

Delicious meat, dribbling juice on my chin. Firm resistance as I bite; and my piercing teeth slice. A kiss in Love; my lips on silken flesh.

Hunger.

Delicious meat,
dribbling juice on my chin.
Firm resistance as I bite.
And my piercing teeth slice.
Like a kiss of Love,
my lips on silken flesh.