The thing that makes me most alive
I promised to give my life
It seemed only fair
And honestly it’s what I wanted

But there is such a weight on my chest
It’s like a panic attack that never ends
And I ran out of options
Including fight or flight
And all I have left is to flounder
On damp linoleum tiles

Fuck I hate the funnies
But I’m wrapped up on the counter
Ready to get gutted and
Sold for scrap

I don’t think my heart is worth enough
Or my whole chestal section
But if it’ll forge our empire
What’s to lose
Cut cut away

God inhabits their praises;
So we slew their worshippers.
Ripped out their heart strings
For liars and harps and cellos;
Congealed blood for waxing
Bowed bone bows-
Stretched skin drums.
Now we can play God.

Who can blame a hungry man for stealing bread?
In the same way who could
Blame me for stealing your heart?

But I promise to pay up
in
Found quarters and
Earned dollars
And compromises but
Uncompromised prerequisites

May I borrow a pen,
Like a smoker bums a light?
Illuminate my face,
Not unlike the twilight.
And, why in heaven’s name
Do I only enjoy to write at night?
Hell if I know, it’s 4:30 am.
Scribbling or tapping,
Runes transcribed into
0’s and 1’s and,
You won’t even notice.
Cuz for you
The day is quite done.

I’d trade this pen
For a share of the twin’s blanket.
And you always had a knack
For committing things to memory.
So please be my scribe and my muse.
And I’ll reminisce on the way your hair glows
In the monitor light.

In the best way dear
All of me is wrapped in you;
And you are in me.

So thanks for your love,
Selfless un-supposing care.
Indebted lovers.

I’ll spend my whole life
On not paying back a cent;
And making our home.

And so in soon time,
And the middle of nighttime,
You won’t be alone.

Please forgive me for
minding the tumblers
and considering the hammers

of the backdoor
to the henhouse

It was so warm
and I so cold