Worst temps of the year on valentines day
Get a lung-load of that cold Feb-ru-Air, Eh?
Nothing sexy like systemic asthma triggers
Winds so brisk they set alveoli a-shiver
“So bleak, like my heart, it’s omenic” they say

Nevermind that we’re stuck in the ass end of winter

Our first taste of freedom was intoxicating,
but it's two steps forward, two steps back
Time hung heavy on a string from the rearview
:infinite turns round a mobius-track

I am going to dig myself a massive fucking pit
I am going to dig through rock until my palms blister and split
I am going to dig until I sweat out all my tears and spit
I am going to dig this hole and I am going to die it in

Fall last year, around this time a tweaked out woman wandered by
Knocked on the door, asked for a 20:
Told her I was broke and couldn’t offer money
But that I had some fruit and could give her a coke,

I am still not ready to keep living after losing you
But days keep passing by no matter what I say I cannot do
Everything inside of me keeps screaming I should "Give up!"

My brother still buys into free will
Despite the paths we see our friend’s walk
I see his footprints fill his mother’s
I hear my father when my tongue talks

Tell me about this weathered wax slice
Warped by the light of the radiant sun
Let me tickle my nose with its faded sleeves dust
Big breath and motes waltz all around the room

Hush,
Sit in the hole,
Fearsome pit.
Smells like mystery, soil and shit
Full of nothing: nothings bliss

Manic pixie nightmare girl
eats your dreams and taints your world
with black and crispy twisty hopes
silken ties that knot like ropes
around your neck
She’s something special
Machiavelli’s secret vessel…

Whipped, like blood runs down burned backs
Fight bubbles, nitrous, in the blood
Sun darkened skin scarred, angry tracks
Rage curdles, boils, tensions run up

Oh Holy day of Endings
And blessed eve of Death
Hollow me out for wonder;
Cool the spark inside my breast

Mister Robin, fat and feathered,
Hopping in the back yard
Bright of breast but dull of eye
Boasting proudly that he’s spry
Plumb with beetle, worm, and larvae
Thinks he’s the King of the garden

Laughter Wound ‘round me, string holiday lights,
Like boleadoras it ties me up tight
Trapped and enraptured
By you and your ape act, wiggling fingers,

I can walk across campus
And nobody smiles
Maybe they’re lonely?
Maybe they’re tired?

My dad gets gout-
Bet I get it too
Because I love meat and grain based booze
And to stroll all day til my toes are sore
Then to fuck and eat and drink some more

Adipose monster suit
Gaiman’s other father
Growing quiet right into my flesh
Trying to bubble over
Sinks it’s tiny little claws in

In contrary, your piety
Makes love to minds
through songs like Seraphim
Your clarity of artistry
Surpasses as amalgam
God and Sin.

We are immortal
But will fade so young
Matter cannot die, still,
We are ash on the tongue
Of the great, black sky
Where all matter fell, hence,
Where all matter goes nigh
Blind sparks flash red…

What was once crisp, great rustling pile,
All bounce and crunch and childish wiles
Now mildew-wet, darkened, deflated
Jump in, slick, and twist my ankles