Breathe with the streets, the dark
A real life night crawling creep.
In the fresh hair, you find me the
and more...
planning out my killing floor.

A letter written with love
not to be mistaken for a love lett
Could all at once, once read
end my affair with love.
I could at a moments notice write

~ PUNCTURE-WOMB ~
Creating pretty holes and lovely h
Making spaces for stained~glass pa
Now sunlit, with vistas of red, so
—My Womb with a view.

I am Victory, within; You.
A balance of all things Pleasant,
And antagonistic to Dopamine pure
We Conjure; Then Conquer.
Our symbiotic Love-Hate fate,

I had a revelation.
I just can’t remember what it was.
But I’m almost sure it was lewd,
What can I do?
To bring it up might disgrace you.

PUNCTURE-WOMB
Creating pretty holes and lovely h
making spaces for stained glass pa
Now sunlit, with vistas of red; so
my room with a view.

We are, by no means;
Dazzling, or that flawless strong
Of which our diamond-shine species
Could and thus should,
Long to be.

My memory bank leaves me filthy ri
even in that often thought of ditc
Loved ones so terrified of the sid
imagine me all dirty, choked, and
My tender

Liar.
My half-track eyes,
Spy;
A Liar.
A mind swept clear,

~ Every single day, to raise anew
Feelings of empowerment, to be use
Can fall before dusk, to soon to b
Yet act as a manure, to nourish an
This nights killer, called; Sunri

Thoughts unravel
This road I travel
The end I cannot see
In turn and twist
My mind splits

Tonight, my pillow mimics stone;
My bed, a quarry.
Somewhere inside my mind,
A diamond bit drives;
Ever deeper toward a story.

That was our Morning
Long ago, in love
Almost total
Almost perfect
So it’s there I stay

Look beyond these words
And address the in-between
Here lies a rest assured
With conscience squeaky clean
When you gave me your shelter

When she comes around;
She will know,
where I’ll be found.
On empty streets,
with dimming light.

My House; My Castle
Crumbling on cue
As piece, by piece
All comfort; Consumed
My halls; My doors

I am hearing the words, those word
“Babe, you okay? ... You’re looki
—I would rather don the tattered c
Becoming cloaked by beautiful trut
A ragged layer upon pure awareness

I don’t know exactly how this came
but likely began with seed of doub
Or the question of truth,
and getting no clue.
So I filled in the blanks,

I saw you first
In a famous Blue Dress
A souvenir I took
And have kept ever since
You called me out

Wrecking Ball Breaking
Something Testing Me
Forget; Forget
Hollow Spirit Lie
For Your Blood Obsessing

I cannot find favor
In loves growth chaperoned
I have no detector
No pocket ace
No perfect way

I was talking with myself a little
When promptly did I learn, that t
And having finally found out, once
—He was without a doubt making no
Until I thought, in that moment I

I want to see the poppy rise, bloo
and be sacrificed
I want to make love to the liar, s
and multiply the wounds
I wish to strip her, degrade her

I feel a surge creeping up behind
or maybe from inside me;
So surprise me.
I can only take so much,
before I crack a smile sweet;

Stray from tender infusion,
'cause docile doesn’t work.
Embrace the fasting revolution,
and prowl, where gluttony lurks.
Survival of the fittest,

Show me;
Tell me.
Or is this a matter of being seen,
with the coming on of a little anx
Just show me;

The sun rises quietly, and in soft
it paints.
In this dayglow vibrancy, with ima
it reaches out.
Waking those in need of light, cal

Drive the dirtied splinter.
Lay it straight;
direct,
and deep into her face.
No ending.

If I can’t be found,
it is she who knows where I am;
I am her Man.
When I’ve gone too far,
and have left all love behind;

Oral sex and cigarettes,
in threadbare kindled corsets.
Trading laces in a red lit bizarre
you mend your teddy with rusty wir
Are your goods morning market fres

Don’t you worry, Babe; it’s comin
It’s on it’s way; on the return.
That openness you shared with me;
Has been searing a brand,
On every thought I have of you.

my heart is beating
and for this i am thankful
i can breathe
i can breathe!
my heart is beating

Anna Sleaze is diseased.
Like Typhoid Mary,
and fucked with ease.
Always with a “Please!”
And a “MORE, MORE!, MORE!!”

Disengaging heart solution,
to spur dualities feud.
Curse laden incantation,
debriding hybrid wounds.
If only one was weaker,

Dry is the thread, brittle and fra
May I be so bold?
As to tell you of a dream I’ve ha
Through dusty road and whistling t

to think
without eyes
or ears
the touch
or smell