fragment

Pain is the prerequisite for ink on the page
These nights
Are killing my soul
The night is to be devoured, not to swallow you whole
Spat up in the morning like the pellet of an owl
Ive been caught in a storm, taking me from coast to coast
Like a half rotten leaf, so drenched and worn
Soft, yellow, and malleable
Gains and losses, perpetually without home
So much to be grateful for
So much to throw myself overboard for
Emeralds buried under a world awash

So fuck it,

Let the demons out.
Put your darkest lipstick on
Wear low and muted, shadowy brows
With a luscious pout
Tight black everything
Cascade of dark tresses framing your face like a veil
Leather heels gnawing at your raw Achilles
To the point you can hear the tendons gearing
But push anyway, hush your pain
Grind your way in
Like sandpaper on thirsty knuckles 
Dance with your shadow
Let go of the know

Feel your skin get hot as you cast that sultry glance
Under a thick and elusive black wide brimmed hat
Chewed lips, heads turned, mumbled words,
That same look back
And you imagine it
The terrain of muscle formations,
Dimples and shadows on pigmented skin variations
Your fingers tracing over the landscape of hills and valleys
That can roll and contract
To course through you
Beads of sweat collect
Between your heated breasts
On the edge of the cup, hard to hold now that its wet

3,5,7,8,
To fermented herbs I succumb, to numb the brain
Smoke streams sucked right up through the open vein
Rust soaking through peeling walls like dry blood stains
Eventually dripping on the track of the deafening train
So alive and so dead is this quickening pace
My heart is so brittle and yet soaked in this drink
Like hard shards of rain
Perception rearranged
Cells choking in disdain
Almost ready
To play, this game
Except - I dont want these strangers.
I want the one thing I can't attain
Fixated and deranged

Padre

eyes quiet and skeptical and yet somehow content
your mid life crisis is the calmest one yet
honorable you are, in your ruthless intellect
numbers and figures spanning east to west
dark iris darting, content in silence
i remember days when you used to smile less
but as your beard gets whiter, those eyes get lighter
they soften with time
and my respect is sublime
for your pristine etches, your truthful pledges
marks on the page that seldom need correction
the art of left brain thats been refined to perfection
i see math in your aura
it makes my heart sore i can't tell you more
of who i am
and can barely comprehend who you are
but at heart our differences are small

your endless generosity and purity
behind the scornful brow there is clarity
a simple man with a complex mind
to freedom blind but still ripening with time
a humble soul, logically divine
the one half of what made me, who doesnt penetrate my mind
with frustration
see,... we disagree
but all it takes is steeped black chai tea
and sewed again are tattered seams

Siempre

la obsidiana de la gitana negra. ojos que buscan la verdad. espejo mágico se refleja en el búho, guiando hacia la sabiduría en la tierra y el cielo. Confío en que pienso, perforar a través de la oscuridad.

fistfuls // wistful

can't seem to place the tape over my mouth.
can't seem to play this game right.
can't hold out
this gridlock, this landmark, this bile bitter truth
black berettas to protrude and swell in my every ruse
visage projected target, interference rash and crude
it's getting harder and harder, and harder to mute 
to block out the obscene scenes where my mind careens
chafing against rationality
convulsing against the sanctions i fail to keep

bare knuckles on cold ledges and callused palms

a momentary rattle in my shaken pulse
feeling enamour, feeling disgust
but mainly just -
utter disappointment
vacantly i lay, trying to find a missing piece to sway the leaf

reconciliations happen in my dreams
but even then they're incomplete
rejecting the diffused light, snaking its way into my eyes
which blinds only my half assed fantasy
i'm clenching onto silent sheets
grasping for more as lucidity creeps
like an unpaid bill
so intrusive and real
helplessly dragged by my hair out of the fleeting ideal
only a fabrication

that saying's so true,
every song becomes about you
everything speaks to me
every billboard every taxi
t-shirts and hats, even bagels are traps
new york new york, you have me strapped
the chords and vocals rush through my trembling lungs
paths and walkways lead to street names with your bleak name
mission district, tenderloin
- your name's not even close to being spanish
what a fucking joke, i'm getting toyed with
but what else could i expect
other than this lunar trickery
so fickle and yet so karmatically pristine

i really have to shake it off sometimes
thoughts like imposters
like sudden encounters with a spider in the sleeve
a ghost whispering sly profanities
fueling insecurities
cells spark like casualties
drenched in inevitability

there's no homeostasis in kissing two faces
the convergence and collision of two potent phases
twice the seduction, twice the abrasions
submerged in an overload of stimulations
even brownstone pillars had me lost in their persuasions
hypnotic cascades of junipers and ivies, suspended in sunlit fenestrations

your asymmetrical smile.
caught me slain in temptation
heartbeat sheathed in its proliferation
twice seduced, twice contused,
twice confused.
thus twice the inebriation.
you already had me halfway
when i was already that way
so add a bit of booze, and my wit's astray
regrets too abysmal to even evade

that city is a beast, i'm only one breath amongst swarms
couldn't properly process in the relentless downpour
swimming upstream in the contrary
doesn't even feel like it was me functioning
disfigured morale, lessons lost in the quickening stream
seduced by you, seduced by the streets

who were you anyways?
misogynist? sociopath? loving, vulnerable man?
i contemplate your judgements, your detachments,
your charisma and convictions.
such a paradigm shift within the bedding
that i almost have forgotten what it was in the beginning
was it ever profound? or was this a perfect catalyst
to rescue anymore wasted days and wasted letters on either end
was there ever a foundation? was there ever respect
or perhaps there's more to it and i can't see it yet?
what a gamble
fragments i both cherish and resent
so do i keep faith, or get ghost
if so, absolute, or with a note
do i stay patient, hold space
even though it gnaws at my raw ego
?

how about you make the decision. to either grip, or unfurl
because i've lived enough to know,
at some point it will all be vague or trivial
this torturous flame will hush to a simmer
whether we decide to consciously shift, or let time itself deliver
the closure
to this duality
this impasse, this unpalatable quandary

so i skimmed over old conversations, to find alliterations
always a deficiency amidst our adoration
though there always seems to be an arcane appreciation,
we meet in the middle. and create perpetuations
shortcomings on your end, and foolishness on mine
a sublime disunion of left and right mind

in retrospect. i should have had the cheaper wine
perhaps a migraine would've saved me from the chemical tide
shoulda done a lot of things, shoulda taped my mouth shut
such a harsh texture to swallow, the second time around.

impasse past passed

I know you ain't a drug but you get me so high
You get me so high
You get me so high, high

temperature control

things are only enlarged, when your mind's in charge
remnants forgotten before, now the central force of all my thoughts
previous conversations, observations, slow proliferations
now lack the proper arbitration
for correct placement

i can't help it
i just like
you so much
this has happened before-
horrid feelings so rampant and on a roll
intrusively familiar
like a leech on my body
sucking reason right out
only that leech is me,
giving away power for less than free
to the most undeserving of all people it could be

and so i'm
ditched right here
on the side of the street
disposed
with the most unpredictable heed
denial dominates all other motives you might attempt to feed
defunct
is this now rotting apple through which i carve my name,
once full of luster and sheen

i keep searching for something to reveal
that its all a charade, its all leading to something with meaning
digging like a tireless mule
for a diamond in your soul
which doesn't exist
i pop out of of every train track with fragments
that don't connect

so the morning after
drenched up to my knees from waiting for a sleazy cab
i settle under hot water
like a smouldering rain, encompassing me
spleen obscene, thoughts unshakable in blinding beams
no place for evasion
for what feels like an eon, until i can hardly feel where my skin ends, half evaporated
i try
to delouse myself
this mindless act
so physically intact, except my hearts wrapped, around your wet finger
the feels linger, on and on and on
i'm addicted to the rush
the regret is just a side effect

tamedmundane

I keep my head down
Walk brisk
Squeeze my eyelids tight
Internalizing whats inevitably fleeting.
I push my sight into the periphery
Holding onto the fading impressions of light
glistening through New York City fog

Such pain, to leave
So I'm pushing it away
Curled toes under white sheets
Brimmed hats to aid denial
Pretending I'm not here
Clutching onto reveries

The boredom of my eyes and heart is settling in fast
Like the blood which coagulates from a refreshing cut even when you don't want it to
Releasing the tension
And when it dries, I'm really just here now
Freshness slowly curdling
Into shades of grey
Hard steel and mist slowly shifting
Into plastic and perennial rain

That city never sleeps
Full of villains and creeps
Just the way I like it, the flavors actually been steeped
I'm drowning in mediocrity
The haze holds no allure for me

Epitaph (Written in Red Lipstick)

Now
is the time, to write your epitaph
Choke the morbid tap, save the fountain from flooded wrath
Dont drown your sorrow completely but let it flow, in balance
Feel realness, feel warmth. Feel the pulse in your throat.
Feel anything other than a blow to the temple
Cold steel against your skin, rubbing in
Rubbing in
You're not dead yet.
The contemplation
Like a demon in a cave in wait
Its always there, just sometimes quieter
To the point where all you can hear is a faint breath every now and again

Rolling beats transpire like mist over the Brooklyn Bridge
Sometimes minor and grim, sometimes to uplift
Arches of melodies suspended between foggy lights
Planted years ago under starry nights
So many fights, so many died
To get you to the isle
So. What is your epitaph going to write
?

Upheaval in acute degrees
Weather so timely and pristine
To get you where you thought you'd never be
Commas and comas, hell, apostrophes
Surprisingly mild hangovers and early mornings
Porridge between bruised thighs with rain tapping on the pane
Pain is the prerequisite for ink on the plane

These nights
Are killing my soul
The night is to be devoured, not to swallow you whole
Spat up in the morning like the pellet of an owl
Ive been caught in a storm, taking me from coast to coast
Like a half rotten leaf, so drenched and worn
Soft, yellow, and malleable
Gains and losses, perpetually without home
So much to be grateful for
So much to throw myself overboard for
Emeralds buried under a world awash

So fuck it,

Let the demons out.
Put your darkest lipstick on
Wear low and muted, shadowy brows
With a luscious pout
Tight black everything
Cascade of dark tresses framing your face like a veil
Leather heels gnawing at your raw Achilles
To the point you can hear the tendons gearing
But push anyway, hush your pain
Grind your way in
Like sandpaper on thirsty knuckles 
Dance with your shadow
Let go of the know

Feel your skin get hot as you cast that sultry glance
Under a thick and elusive black wide brimmed hat
Chewed lips, heads turned, mumbled words,
That same look back
And you imagine it
The terrain of muscle formations,
Dimples and shadows on pigmented skin variations
Your fingers tracing over the landscape of hills and valleys
That can roll and contract
To course through you
Beads of sweat collect
Between your heated breasts
On the edge of the cup, hard to hold now that its wet

3,5,7,8,
To fermented herbs I succumb, to numb the brain
Smoke streams sucked right up through the open vein
Rust soaking through peeling walls like dry blood stains
Eventually dripping on the track, of the deafening train
So alive and so dead is this quickening pace
My heart is so brittle and yet soaked in this drink
Like hard shards of rain
Perception rearranged
Cells choking in disdain
Almost ready
To play, this game
Except - I dont want these strangers.
I want the thing I can't attain

Addicted to that face,
So imperfect and asymmetrical
Reeking with charisma
Vulnerability so efficiently guarded
But theres the momentary lapses
Where it slips
You cant refrain
Your movements harden
Pupils dilated, aura fallen
- I'm addicted to it
Addicted to knowing you're warm somewhere
Not cold all the way through
Im addicted to believing I can thaw through you
As if I have something to gain
Some sort of power to assertain
But this isnt epitaph material
So I'll let it weep with the rain

Tiptoe

footsteps weary upon the floor
hardwood boards creak like a hoarse throat
nocturnal, sunless, a habit I can't let go,
since my early youth, I crawl through the darkness,
dreams in the night's atmosphere I harness
hushed to a whisper, I am synced with the whiskers
etching notes, doodles and ideas afloat
they come to life most potently in these quiet hours
here I gain my power, under stars, solitude devoured
till sunrise cracks,
and all I can do is pull the curtains back
laughing at these eyes, so black
and not the iris. 

Obsidiana

sharp edges for correction
refine my vision and intention
kill the drama and pretension
seeking wisdom and redemption

black ball, a mirror into my soul
a journey through a time so bold
a piercing gaze from this potent stone
finds me restless in whatever home

nocturnal energies at midnight born
with the bats i hunt for stories told
in the space between stars, these wings unfold
to feed upon the dreams unsold

its so obvious, what i should do
its so obvious, what i shouldn't do
obsidian obliterating my senses coy
oblivious i am, to the intended ploy

obtaining medicine, of the dark eyed owl
i stare intensively, gently, compassion boundless

this is NOT what it seems
this is not what love is deemed
aesthetically serene
the blood always wipes unclean

the answers are clear
the signs and signals you can hear
the echoes tickle in your ear
the blinding sun drowns out your fear

trust the cradle of the cosmos
never, ever look back.

4 grams

I can only pray to the Past that your love, was rooted deep,
so this Karma can maybe catch some peace in sleep.
Power
is only ever attained in the Present
so I have to shed, everything I resent
about you.
inevitably,
about me.
yin and yang in perfect dystopian harmony,
never satisfied, illicitly bartering,
bargaining for Future mental poverty
though they should be making love, on Present's white sand beach.