Storm clouds ponderous
Feel of warm bath envelop
Long to share with you
Poems
Slow intoxication
Pain blooms on tongue
Sweet lips burn red into my flesh
Knowing price, drink more
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Within the circle of arms
Give me your mouth
So full of promise and blood
Pain dancing on silent tongue
Give me your hand
So full of strength and softness
Life beating in the feel of your wrist
Give me your body
So full of wicked and blessed
Pleasure burning through veins
Give me your mind
So full of fear and loss
Safe measure found at last
Give me your heart
So full of love and dark
You are, at last, home
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Waking in silence to an empty house
Broken branches scatter
Wind tossed leaves drift
The truth is all that matters
In the heart of the abyss
A fallen plum is eaten
A fallen faith is born
One last day to remember
Again when all is worn
A last impression made
Upon the bloodied thorn
When last we met a whisper
Now all I have is storm
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Where the flowers grow
Recklessly running
Bones shard
Muscles bleed
Wet under skin
Heart cries out
Ankle gives
A moment to save
A moment to live
One choice made
Another begins
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Last petal falls
All tomorrow’s fade
Hearts dim in a world made less
Numb, tears drift, falling
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Dreamers haiku
Gonna sleep deeply
Dreaming of you beside me
Feel of skin on skin
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Tired of living for tomorrow
Long to sleep in a bed where the gulf of distance is impossible
Where the warmest of nights still means we touch
Even if just lightly while our bodies fling out
Searching for the slight chill
To wake beside my love
In the sure knowledge that we will sate our desires
Lasting an hour, or 10 minutes or 18000 seconds
That reaffirmation that we belong to each other
That we exist not just in the emotional heart
But to express that in touch
In deed
In words whispered across skin
To build a life of each other
The daily chore built on a bedrock of passion
Never losing sight of ourselves and the continued goal of us
To exist as pragmatic romantics
Knowing that there is work
And reveling in the building of a life
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Hard to stop bleeding, running through razor wire
Can’t listen to music
Even the sad songs sound too upbeat
Feeling that burnout
Feeling that feral thrill
That fuck it all
And watch it burn
Except it would be my life
And I don’t have the stomach to sift through the wreckage
So I lay in bed in the late afternoon
Wishing for that lottery money
Just so I can stop worrying all the time
I can rock in a crisis but when life’s a crisis
I’m just crush under the boulder
Just want some stability but what’s that look like
Jobs a job
Writing was the cure
But its all fled now
Why bother with anything
Why not light the match
All you can lose is a life
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The endless grey
I want to write something epic that grabs you by the heart and only let’s go once you are bleeding.
But I’m too empty now.
Too tired from working long hours
From still being at work 12 hours after I started.
Instead, I’m taking a beat to write this.
To decry and lament being unable to reach that aspirational dream of you, my dear readers reacting with the emotions that overwhelm me
But which instead lay dead like a caricature of a fish
Painting the page in reek
What is it to yearn to connect but only to find empty?
How do I after years of pouring out my lifeblood find I have so little left?
Is it burnout or just being burned?
Wondering if I’ll be able to steal some time before I sleep and it all starts again?
I’m trapped in this mess of a life
Some things cherished
Some things bad
And most just blah
Trapped by my own desires
By my own hand
What way could anyone see, when the path is empty, all
Destinations equidistant
Pelgris 