blood on your hands

Love is watching someone die.
Is love blood on your hands, too?
I have to kill everything now.
Music, movies, pictures, restaurants, movies
I must kill the largest part of myself
And soon.
It must die
It must be done
So that I never see it,
So that you can never reach it
So that she can’t ever hear it cry.
So that i won’t ever change my mind

Hands and lips and tears and laughter
All of it pulled from the black recesses
Of where my heart was
Before it died and was destroyed,
All of it must be plucked
And pulverized
And then set on fire

Teach me how.

death of dreams

I am hurting deep inside.
A wound, festering.
It's swelling, hot with angry infection
And threatening to ooze it's poison
Once again to destroy
To break
To shatter
To crush what once was strong
Poisoning what once was pure
Doubting what once was as sure as the sun.
Ruining life
With the unimaginable sting of death,
The death of dreams.

Mine

There are secret places inside me
Where I go to scream
Where I go to cut out all of the pain
everything unseen
To drain the tears, the blood, the screams
It's crowded in my secret room
With voices, eyes, and teeth
All at once they yell
Voices swirling around around my head
So much anger, so much pain, so much heat 
Secret places inside of me
Where I beg you to give her back to me 

darkness falls

Darkness falls and panic creeps in.
Where will the blackness take me tonight
and can I ever win?

The lamp fills the room with a promising light,
but in my mind I am screaming
suffocating in a black blacker than night.

The temptation is so unbearably strong,
to end this daunting life,
to find rest and relief after fighting so long.

I have no more in me, no fight to hold on
I am growing smaller and weaker
and on the horizon there is no dawn

If I surrender to it's enticing call
Where would it take me?
Heaven or hell
or nowhere at all?

Worth it

It wasn't fair what you did to me  that fateful day
Claiming love just weeks before my wedding day
Begging me to be with you
Cause in your heart you finally knew
I was worth it.
All that time you never said a word
All that time you knew that I was yours
Eight years of hurtful games
Yeah, I still remember all of their stupid names
They were worth it
I still remember how you smelled
Your bony shoulder resting place for my ponytail.
How it changed and stung my nose
I swam with you to your lowest lows
I thought if I gave you love
You'd give up your stupid drugs
If I would've been worth it
Now your words still haunt me
Did you ever really even want me?
What would you have done if I'd gotten on that plane?
Somehow my heart knows things would still be the same.
I'd never be worth it.
You held me in the palm of your hand
Just like Tinkerbell and Peter Pan
Never thought I'd learn to fly
Never thought I'd be strong enough for goodbye
Thought I'd always be around
Thought you could stand me up when I came to town
Thought that someday I'd be yours
Never thought about slamming doors.
I just wanted to be worth it.
I was yours all that time
Right up till I learned to fly
But you were never mine...
No, you were never mine.
And he'll tell you I'm worth it.

more

I will rock you to sleep until you're two
I'll keep singing long after you can hear me anymore
but I will hear you.

I'll throw you lavish birthday parties and make too big of a deal.
It will start when you'll be too young to remember,
but I always will.

I'll spend too much money on Christmas and lost teeth.
And you may not remember what I get you each year,
but I'll remember every single thing.

I'll take a ridiculous amount of pictures and never throw anything away.
And other's will think my hoarding is crazy,
but I'll look at them with wonder someday.

I'll be paranoid and overprotective, examining every single sore.
I'll kiss you three times instead of one.
because I wanted you more.

before your hands turned cold


You died on a Sunday,
in the song of the rain.
The pavement was shiny,
my rushing in vain.

You left before I arrived.
And I felt myself fold
I wanted to see you
before your hands turned cold.

Your skin looked hard,
like green-yellow plastic.
Your tiny body was disturbing,
in a hospital bed so drastic.

A tear dripped down my cheek 
as yours received my kiss, so controlled.
I didn't want to lose composure
before your hands turned cold.

Your head was so big;
your brain ever-growing,
and your limbs so small,
atop a tiny trunk eroding.

Atrophy couldn't get past that iron-clad safe,
The one in your mind where it could never take hold.
Your brain was a fortress,
before your hands turned cold.

The machines were silent with respect,
and your eyes didn't flutter like before.
The blankets didn't rhythmically move
And I'd thought I'd wanted to say no more.

I thought I'd said everything I wanted to say.
I thought no more thoughts could be told.
But I wanted to warm your heart
before your hands turned cold.

For Uncle Guy.  January 26, 1965-April 17, 2011