"I should have known I wasnt ready,"


I have bugs under my skin,

They itch, they itch.

Spiky, their mandibles,


Like lumps of flesh,

curtain stag.

Or hiding centipede.


The way your eyes narcissus.

Yet pass, pass;

and the reflection that implodes,

my fair weathered fiend.

Cacodemon of my mirror,

scratch on cavity.

And your cosa nostra,

similarly hellbound.

Your tongue ruins me.

Sink Boy

His hands span under the towels,

grasping at anything he can.

He holds my head underwater.

I hate it, I hate him.

I blubber.

Yet I dream sleeplessly,

palpatation of villainy.

Engender my bedridden body.

Ocean of bile,


Cowardly, cowardly;

he leaves the bathroom.

Sink Boy II

My eyes bear witness,

loathsome alcoholic.

The sneer you bloom,

as you linger.

A crow to a deathbed.


From reason,

Echo's call was answered.

Through opening of sand,

out she rose.

Her eyelids were-

kissed by feathers,


Aroused by seaboard,

cradled in ocean's discharge.

Upon hillside, I-

heed from afar.

Gingerly, gingerly.

A sickening call from inwards mind,

I begin to whimper.

Having been kissed by aphrodite,

taste of white shell.


For what reason,

must something like this arise?

Be it crude,

or rather taught,

I ache.

The wrath of Ares maims me.

Compared with who I worship,

his skin-

seems coarse,

prickled akin to cacti.

Oh giant bewitch me,

for I wish to cage him;

purist ideology.

Perish the flora that brought about my harsh fate.

I mourn.

Banish me back to isle.


I was not ripe to endure this torture.


The fruit smiles tenderly,

kindly her way.

Eve strains for the apple,

yet fingers too stunted,

graze surface.

To hold it,

to grasp it;

yet not dominaneer.

Fate neither grants fruit to fall nor to her recieve.

Her cravings swell unbearably.

She withers, rots into soil;


The apple plummets distant from timber regardless.


To you, I am akin to hydra.

And yet my scales shine,

tinted, yellow, cats eye.

Conceived to strike fear,

my talons are salient-

and my moon creates art.

I'm villainous,

yet cut off my head.


what you spew,

is hypocritical.


Suffer my wings encompus.

Despite meer shadow;

you afflict me dearly.

Kindle duress and harm;

I suffocate those around me-

my span unable to grasp you.

You never beget thoughts of me;

yet abuse me to ruminate you.


I rest eyes upon you.

You will never envisage this tenderness-

this appetite of suicide.

I regard you and wish to shrill.

Yet I contrived vow;

I shouldnt have bore words.

You are strangulating me;

you are nothing but bloodlust.


When you look at the snow this winter

I hope you see my relfection.


I will sit on the golden lakeshore,

as your eyes glisten freshwater stillness.


We are two comets drifting through space;

destined to crash into each other and break into a million little diamonds and dust.


I know how it feels to get better,

and then worse again.


I am a shallow canvas;

I let the light paint over me,


splatter white dirt onto my skin.