Winter takes what little is left

Make a fiddle from my bones
Shape me to useful tone
Anything is better than being alone
This incarnation whose heart was stone

Take flower from cracked deep marrow
Drink me and dance the yarrow
This single tear over my barrow
Or feed me into the hollow

This light, this love did change me
Though sullen shores beckon on bleak wings
Hope lightened the burden but broke my back
Times passage, preceded through

So drink my blood sugar lows
And hyacinth petals fall in order rows
Or fake your laughter, smiling bows
But I tarry never after

This simple crime that sings to sleep
Wakes the dreamer but breaches deep
Of brittle words to interpret, keep

We bite and struggle
suck air and tremble
Simpler still to heartbeat slow
And in the springtime
Cease

Sleeping

The point at which all dreams fall apart
Time runs out behind me as life unspools
Forced by failure
By falter
Forsaken by all I would hold close
Forgotten on the black sand shores of memory
Slipping away even from self
A sleep away from without you

The Blade’s Remorse

Hurts flash frozen
Chemical assistance interceding
The blade slips in
All pains receding
Still bleeding but unfeeling
A smile plastered on my face

Blood keeps flowing
And I unknowing
It’s all just building
Walls are breaking
But I’m still smiling
Though the grimace sets in

The ice is melting
And depths are beckoning
My paths are ending
Smile cracking and
Falling away

Syllogistic decline

Should heart be cast down
to erupt unaided by time or awareness
bound purpose in the snow
failing inward to oblivion
and splintered remnants of knowing smiles
found distressed in the slippery madness
gone hallow
desperate to desire
in turnabout and gyre
taste of lips and I am home
the maelstrom’s son forgotten
pressure builds of slipping shudder step
and giving all
have wrought

The pale memories of waning years bundle
spear out
the piercing shriek of pulsar
what was once the history of the world
becomes the collapsing waveform
the energistic creation of itself
modified by the shifting passage of existence

Hot to the touch

And it seems, like all but a few in my past, seventy-five days was all you could stand. Perhaps, I am only attractive in small doses or as an idea rather than a man. Perhaps, I am the last to know that I was on the shelf. Fed scraps, until a better prospect cemented itself. Then discarded.
Perhaps, I was a toy, shiny and new but easily put aside. How can I know when the most popular method of leaving me is to say nothing, to not engage, to never answer direct or indirect. Apparently, I’m not worth a word. Not worth the time.
But fuck that. I am a fire. Perhaps we merely consumed all of the oxygen in the room. Leaving you Gasping, never quite achieving nuclear threshold.

Worksheet: the path to letting go

You want that boy and not me. He’s attractive in a bland way. Thin, unlike myself. Though our weights are going in opposite directions, perhaps I’ll wave when we pass each other by. He’s easy with a slimy smile, something soft and malleable in him. He manipulates and doesn’t stay.  He’s hedonistic without the learned restraint. Dangerous in a BDSM setting because as a top he’d look to his pleasure first. Put his needs above his submissive. Though I doubt he’d have the discipline for the life. Probably just calls it rough sex, so he can take without giving. He is my opposite in most ways. Easy where I am difficult. Smiles where I am sardonic grins. Smiles that never quite reach his eyes. Where my eyes are mostly how I smile. Shallow waters where I am deep lake with a thermal vent river. He’s a pretty plaything. A bauble picked up then discarded. But I sense he is the type to hit when not wanted; to take when not offered. I would wish I could protect you but you’ve made your choice. I cannot intervene now unless you ask for my help.

He’s not even an adequate lover, you told me about him before we fell apart. Soft when he should be hard, cums one time to your zero times. Pretty, shallow and useless. Insists on no condom. Dirtbag and you went right for him.

I was never that guy. Accomplished by 24, in skills I don’t use anymore admittedly, dating older not younger at that age. I was never easy, never thin either. Alot of muscle but alot of fat too. But tall with wide shoulders. A thinker and a planner. A knight of dark renown. Honor and all that with a bad boy rep. Careful until the moment then I’d dive head first into the deeps. Sexually inexperienced but not virginal. Kegels since I was 12, fine pelvic and ejaculate control resulting. Yes, Kegels are not just for women. Tongue workouts since I was 18. When you like going down as much as I do, you want to make sure you can go as long as your desire dictates. Morgan had some good clay to work with. Pain was already something I liked when we met. She refined my palate and allowed me to grow.

If that boy is what she wants, then I was never right for her. He’s bland milk chocolate. I’m artisan cacoa, seventy percent.

closure

It’s odd what a honest conversation will get you when the blinders have been taken off. I tend to blame myself for awkwardness in a relationship.  It is something I am working on.  I apologize if I think I have offended and check with the other person.  If they are being as open and honest as I’m trying to be then it’s good.  If not, then it’s not great. So, sometimes game playing seems to me like a product of my making a misstep.  That is how I interpret it. If the other person does not say that it wasn’t a misstep and lay it out for me, I’ll never really understand it.  But once the blinders are off, I will see it immediately.  The only reason I didn’t see it before was because it was my relationship.  In others I can see the dance, each step that it takes, and how it will play out. If I’m paying attention. But in my relationships I can be blind.  I try to follow my heart.  Which is a good thing, but it can lead me down blind alleys.

I’ll never stop loving the person. I’ve never stopped loving any of those that I fell for.  It’s just my nature. But it won’t rule me.  The passion gets replaced by reason and a feeling of fondness.  I will never be as blind with them again. Which is a shame.  I rather like myself in full romantic fervor. And can we be friends?  Maybe but not right away.  Hit me up in six months or so.  You can start at the associate level like everyone else.

Ice knife

Beauty incarnate slash my heart
frozen blade
swift smile
in shallow pool of frost and blood
Sharp and tender
spill me out
Push it home
I’m tired of this slowly ending
Thrust it home
Numb the better feeling
Exhale crystals stained dark
Let it end
This drawn out damnation