Puke Poetry

Heart like a hand grenade, fully-automatic weapon for a mind.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

i do recall

i remember
the shallow breathing
sound of your sleep
and the security that seeped in
sitting there next to you
i remember
the secrets we were supposed
to keep
and the spectacle we made
of what was supposed to be sly
every time that reckless
happiness crossed your face
the light behind your eyes
when you looked into mine
the impossibility of
the situation we crafted
i remember
talking to you
when you were sober
it's been awhile
i remember
you not letting me
hide from pain, blockade my brain
every now and then
i remember
a certain night, a certain party
and a certain first of many
snuck next to a certain garage
i remember conceding and compromising
and i remember
walking away.

i wondered who we were fighting
all that time
but now i know that i'm in bed with the enemy
because that enemy
is me.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

leave

to that part of me, that part of my brain, whichever part of me that's dead and that's cold - the part of me that's not quite right - the part that doesn't make me an old soul, just too old for my age - the part that's always boiling, always seething, on the edge, ripping and tearing - the part that's permanently shut down, locked out - that part, that part of my puzzle...
leave. just leave.
i can't breathe and i can't trust or get close - i can't open up or let myself fall - i'm blind, not healing, just rotting, just stewing...
just leave.
if i could pinpoint the location, i'd be there with a scalpel in the blink of an eye - carefully remove every last molecule - it's just not fair to anyone - i'm not feeling anything...
just leave.
prophecized when i was a baby - two words and eery accuracy - he looked at me and said "ice queen" - and here i stand, as stone - every inch of my skin, drop of blood, heave of my chest - everything is icicles - nothing's real...
just leave.
what do i tell him when he asks? because he's going to. - i've got no answers - truths are just as distant to you as they are to me - remedies remain mysteries and my lips are stitched...
there's nothing there.

leave. just leave.