12.17.24face down in the snow, snorting it like the cold has ever been enough to make my heart beat any slower. there's a hand on my lower back, fingers caressing my bare spine. i'll get up when the snow turns to rain. when the movement is less gentle. for now, i drown in the silence.

12.16.24the blade of a knife gliding across the roof of my mouth. sharp enough for the cut to be precise. one small incision that draws a perfect line of blood. gentle hands push nails through my palms. stigmata to the wood of the floor below my knees. worship and sacrifice at once. my sacrifice to man. in a dream of someone i have never met, he's above me. he's pouring the blood from his mouth into mine. as i swallow, there is sweet wine in my throat. love.

12.15.24i haven't written any poetry about that ring. i suppose i don't really care that i lost it. i don't even like the memory it represents, i just can't stand losing anything at all.

12.14.24pacing in front of my audience, i show them my soul, but not my eyes. one is far too intimate, the other is far too raw. my skin melts to their feet. i become nothing and everything, but i always was.

12.13.24stardust leaking from the wounds that are my eyes. it comes straight from the soul, a message telling me to rest. i'm not sure how.

12.12.24if i try to describe it out loud, it all sounds like a poem. beautiful and incomprehensible. it's unhelpful, but i feel quiet. i can feel my heart thrumming fast and deep, a bass guitar pumping through the sea. my mind is clear, and the beat doesn't reach my ears. i'm not shaking, but if i move, i will shatter apart. everything makes more sense once the music stops. i'll translate when i understand the words in your tongue.

12.11.24i'll always be more handsome while i am swallowed by the darkness. the mirrors in the light splay a feminine charm across my skin like a gash; an open wound. but the dark does not see. it feels.

12.10.24so long as i lie awake, the night will live forever.

12.09.24i never wanted to be touched as a kid. no kid should ever be touched. this desire persists, even as an adult. but it does not satisfy.

12.08.24to the infinite cosmos, the eternal, spiraling sounds of the void: we will meet again. when my body learns to rest on its own. i had tried once long ago to meet you before i was ready. i'm sorry i haven't made it yet.

12.07.24i think i'd fuck my own beating heart if my dick were big enough. i think doing so would make me vomit. throwing up wouldn't discourage me. maybe the opposite. i wouldn't be able to live with myself afterwards.

12.06.24maybe this was the chasm i have always been searching for. maybe my voice needs not cover a great distance, not when i can so effortlessly bounce it between the cave walls. here, it will echo forever. here, i will be alive forever. long enough to create until creation exists no more. i can finally stop fearing the hands that drag me in endless circles around this clock.

12.05.24my tongue spills from my eye sockets, and i find i am viscerally uncomfortable with the casual vulnerability i come into contact with each day. i do not want your eyes melting into mine, i do not want your words dripping thick, hot saliva into my ears. not unless you're going to promise me eternity. or at least a night that feels like it.

12.04.24insomnia is my divinity. i am at last a deity when my eyelids drip down into the dark purples. when i become the same colors as the night that holds me. when i begin to fear the sunlight, only then do i become stardust.

12.03.24there shouldn't be idols above your god. i have never had a god, so every person i have ever loved becomes my idol. becomes sensationalized, worshiped, fantasized. i fantasize about being on the same level, about conversations i might have if i considered myself as human as my family, my friends, my lovers. i will always be something made to worship. i will always imagine myself a creature made to atone for sins i never committed and will not define.

12.02.24all i've ever craved is eyes on me. but all i can stomach is when those eyes have intention. when i pop them off my skin, they leave behind marks like leeches. i feel deranged as i set them on my tongue, hoping it'll feel the same as your soul inside me.

12.01.24i imagine your tongue on her collarbones, and then i vomit into my own hands. i set my hands in my lap and remember i never wanted to be something like you in the first place. i wanted to be you. maybe that's what love is. maybe it isn't. my hands fall to the floor first, then my knees. my eyes are on her, since you'd never look back at me.

11.30.24the nerves spark like exposed wires, mechanics all dull and rusted. overindulged in the sound of gunfire, it's been numb to it all for quite some time. dopamine is how it lives, but keeps its eyes on the ground until it runs out of life.

11.29.24maybe if i had slept more during the night, the sun would not burn so harsh during the day. but i sing to the moon, and she tells me i'm safe. the sun only tells me i'm real.

11.28.24as i try to lift my eyes above sea level, all i see is the exhaustion setting in. how much easier it would be to drift through this ocean forever. but how lonely i have already become.

11.27.24she emerges only to lick the blood from my lips, to gnaw on the exposed bone. my guardian angel, she keeps me clean.

11.26.24loud music, pretty lights. the lights bled into my vision at the same time your eyes did. there's guilt holding me back as you're against me. there's someone who wants you more, but i've always been drawn to human touch. i'd ruin anything for the feeling of skin. when i woke up, i had to calm myself from this dream i had, like it was somehow a nightmare. i don't even know who you are.

11.25.24my skin is betraying me. it keeps the dirt from reaching my blood, but it does not keep my secrets from whoever is watching me.

11.24.24trying to pretend i'm not staring at it. there's a wound i cut open on the wall of my bedroom. it's bleeding, it's going to get infected the more i stare at it. the more i feel the urge to shove my hands in and make it hurt. we're going to rot together whether i acknowledge it or not.

11.23.24i look down and i see the edge of the world, feel my heart drop down into the endless chasm. i'll never be whole until the void becomes heaven.

11.22.24drifting in the water, taking only small gasps of air. i can't bring my lungs to fully support me, only just barely to keep me alive. i don't even know what i'm writing about anymore. i'm just trying to keep the weight off my chest.

11.21.24i took all my paintings off my bedroom walls, placed them next to the trash. it was a desperate act, wishing for attention. maybe my resentment for you comes from missing the person who would've given it to me. i've since hung them back up, stained with my embarrassment. as if i've ever been able to discard a memory; good or bad.

11.20.24i shouldn't hold so much resentment towards you when i know how difficult it is to let go of your own mother. when your entire life has been intertwined in her lies, how do either of us escape from it all? no matter what reason tells me, i know i will always come back to you in the end. maybe you once thought you could escape her, too. maybe you just couldn't help but come back to her in the end.

11.19.24danger cut your lips like empathy has sliced my tongue. your mouth formed words that promised protection, my mouth believed you meant it. safety was never a true concern, it was more like the paint covering the mold in your trailer's walls. a machete is a useless weapon for self-defense, i think you just wanted to scare me into trusting you.

11.18.24her tears are the raindrops on my glasses. i've lied beneath stormclouds for less. i thought i might understand you when the sun came up to dry it all, but growing older has only proved the distance was necessary.

11.17.24cascade of nightshade, the flowers grow between my shoulder blades. i'll wake up sober to my own disgrace, remind me to save your place.

11.16.24my exhaustion brings me closer to god, brings me closer to you. i don't want to be here, i don't want you. i'm dancing alone in my dark room, it's 3am.

11.15.24i act out the motion of screaming in my room. not even a whisper comes out because it isn't real. i want to be the kind of free teenagers are supposed to be. each time i try, i see my corpse in your eyes from all those years ago. i see a fog so palpable i still choke on the residue. i see his smile, and the nightmare that took him from me.

11.14.24it doesn't make me as sick as it should. maybe not at all. the motions of my limbs fall into a familiar pattern; the one i watched you dance until the red lights burned black. there's that feeling again. i want to be in your arms more than i want to be safe.

11.13.24it twisted my stomach, made me choke. i hadn't expected such resonance. i didn't think i'd understand. then, i realized, i too had died for a moment back then. i knew what it meant to be mind and body; separate.

11.12.24the bell rings. back and forth. the world goes quiet to hear it sing.

11.11.24i think i just wanted you to understand my pain the way you understood yours. people understand blood. the hardest thing to overcome was not just blood lust, it was losing the easiest way to be heard.

11.10.24i let go of tension too easily and hang on to gentle violence for too long. i don't allow myself enough time with what might allow me to grow, and instead choose to slowly dig my nails into my skin, unsure if i may eventually hit bone. this, of course, does nothing of use.

11.09.24i'd beg you to meet my on my level, but i locked the door, and i'm too tired to get out of bed. you wouldn't provide comfort for a fear you deem unreasonable anyways.

11.08.24my words are nothing but quiet defiance. but if the words are too quiet, then what, if anything, have i defied?

11.07.24are your parents ever supposed to understand your soul or is that something i shouldn't have been wishing for all this time?

11.06.24the thunder comes in waves. loud and then almost soft. but when the world goes completely silent, i'm alone in my room, worried for the ways my life will change with the impending flood.

11.05.24you could run away from everything. but what would that do?

11.04.24counting the minutes like friends who've died. they pass and so do i.

11.03.24i've written so much poetry about you, it's difficult to unravel myself from a feeling that has died all around me.

11.02.24i always share my art because i always share my soul. with you, though, my greatest concern is you will believe you can ascertain far more than you really know.

11.01.24i feel so sick it makes me want to laugh.

10.31.24veins tensing, tendons pulsing as the blood boils enough to burn. breathing through teeth and spit. catharsis as it sinks it's claws into the flesh beneath it, inside of it, around it. surrounded by the viscera it cannot escape.

10.30.24this is how we ascend to heaven. i wish nothing mattered. i'm in love with the patterns in your back. i'd contract any disease for you. stained glass means god is here. i never considered myself religious, never an atheist either.

10.29.24fortune favors the believer, or so i must be convinced. for my belief lies in the impossible. my belief lies in your soul, one that lies so deep in obscurity, it may be easier to detect patterns beyond the fog. but i believe myself the exception. and i will one day burn for my hubris, my love.

10.28.24in the center of the universe, there is warmth. when all is destroyed, it creates warmth. this cycle is how our souls continue. death and rebirth.

10.27.24i'm confident in what i know, but my heart still pulses grossly in my throat. i don't need you to understand, but i had hoped you'd love me for what i really am.

10.26.24the essence of regret. but what you sense is the regret of what i've left behind, not what i will become. you won't be convinced, that's fine. only time will prove i'm whole.

10.25.24if everything is interconnected, does this define a lack of self or the existence of the human mind as one intertwined concept? like small strings connecting us all back to one another, and ultimately back to the universe. quantum entanglement suggests your heart is inside mine.

10.24.24from a drop of my blood, the mold grows. fluffy, white, soft. a hundred thin strands of fungi sprout from what was once my body, feeding off of me. i consume the mold, and we do this dance again.

10.23.24i love nothing more than you loving me. your love makes me complete. i'll take it and run, then remember how i never truly wanted this.

10.22.24i hope that when i vomit, you'll hold it in your hands. i hope you'll learn to hold what you've done to me before you try to hold me. you make me sick. i'll always love you.

10.21.24my voice just doesn't sound correct right now, but it will some day. when it does, there will be nothing stopping you from falling in love.

10.20.24i think i'd enjoy loving her if it came with less strings.

10.19.24my skin just won't seem to soften right now, but it will some day. when it does, there will be nothing stopping me from falling in love.

10.18.24i don't know how to say i'm happy for you finding someone you love without it sounding resentful. but it's genuine. i want you to be happy, i never assumed that would be with me.

10.17.24in my happiest moments, i'm imagining you there with me before i can stop it. it makes me happier. there is sighing all around me as i bring up your name again. i sigh, too. i thought i'd be past this by now.

10.16.24i've heard it, that distant song. i cannot replicate its tune, but i know it sounds like you.

10.15.24i'm breathing.

10.14.24quiet breathing in a dark room. there's an angel in my bed, and i would give the world to her. my time on this earth will far outweigh hers, but the time i spend with her will be the fondest memories i will hold.

10.13.24stasis. the air stays stagnant, i cannot seem to move. i fear i may frighten you. not that i'd run, not that i'd do anything but hold your face in my hands. but only if you'd let me. but you wouldn't let me.

10.12.24my signal is sent, but the connection is missed. a lone satellite searching for anything that will understand it's mechanical heart. it doesn't beat the same, but you'd never know if you couldn't hear.

10.11.24he wants to be something dangerous. he wants to see the worlds that only exist when people are at their worst. that's when people are most interesting, he says. he says, from the dark of a bedroom he's never left. a room no one else has ever entered.

10.10.24if i could just hold you tighter, i could make this right. if our flesh melded together, i could control the things you can't seem to do right. i could make it all work out the way it's supposed to. i am fate's servant. i'm just trying to get you to play your part correctly.

10.09.24i made the least art when i was the happiest. but art is all i've ever lived for. i haven't voluntarily gone outside in weeks. is this burnout or just the way my story is meant to play out. where am i within my own narrative.

10.08.24it would be easier to say it wasn't my hands at your throat. it wasn't me, i didn't mean to, i didn't want to. well, i didn't. i didn't mean to, i didn't want to, but i did. the more i feel suffocated, the more i want to retaliate. my hands are at your throat because there isn't air flowing through mine. it's not an excuse, i wish i could stop it.

10.07.24peel the skin from my lips, smear the blood across my face. an imitation of a fight, like i've ever actually fought for something. he'll drown in obscurity and his art will lie a monument in the bottom of a forgotten well.

10.06.24is this how i'm destined to live? is time a cruel cycle where i only get those little moments, those fragments where it feels so right before its all wrong again? i'm different than i was the last time, but how can i prove that when my actions are all the same? when i'm following the path already tread because nothing else feels okay. this doesn't feel okay, either, but its all i've known.

10.05.24i want to daydream again. about anything. the sun, the moon, pretty faces with pretty voices. something holding me gently. something unfamiliar.

10.04.24there's a soft glow from the doorway. it isn't a sign of life, it isn't a call to action. it's more like a nightlight. more like the darkness wishing me a good night's sleep.

10.03.24nothing seems to move too fast, the water holds me still. i need a moment of silence, for the world has made me ill.

10.02.24something subtle beads across the wounds like blood. it isn't hard to see, but it will keep you captivated for years to come. do not fall into the trap of beauty on the surface, it is not real. your flesh creates so much more, your flesh creates the maggots' meal.

10.01.24metal fangs gnash against concrete. glowing eyes remind us of just how small we are. it raises its head, we bow before it. it cries like it is hungry, i offer up my flesh.

09.30.24it's there, grab it. stick your fingers into it. a geode that's dull on the outside, but when it's cracked open, find only viscera pouring out. find the thing's heart. find it struggling to beat on the ground. consume it raw.

09.29.24i believe i could still love you. when the sun hits the earth, the earth does not scream. she rejoices in the light he's brought her. this isn't unusual, right? it's the way of the world. to love that which has hurt you. to cycle through the night, dark purple and blue, then come back to the same face in the morning.

09.28.24there's always this rot when i think of you, sitting deep in my stomach, in a dark place i can't quite reach. but i can see it, feel it. the day i understand it will be the day i my flesh melts off my bones. the day everyone will see the reality of what's inside me.

09.27.24these patterns splay across the animal like a pattern knitted into a blanket. the universe is calling for your flesh, waiting for you to hear it. you are the animal, you are the one knitting, you are the blanket. you are the universe. pick up.

09.26.24i've been dripping blood into my own mouth. i keep thinking this performance will amount to something greater. it's easier not to miss you when i'm tending to my wounds. i can barely hear your heartbeat over my own heresy. you told me you were doing better, and i swore never to believe in the sinner. but when my own sin is misjudgement, how can i expect forgiveness. how do i repent.

09.25.24the fruit of labor becomes the love. to consume, to drink, to feel full. it reminds me of your eyes, and every eye i have yet to meet.

09.24.24the little dancer in the windowsill has waited a very long time for someone to tell him the effort he's put into his craft is worth it; noticeable. this has put him at peace, at least for the moment.

09.23.24a liquid fractal, dancing behind eyes that cannot see. it swirls, pulls you in, drowns you. if i were able to keep my eyes closed forever, maybe they'd never find me in this quiet prison.

09.22.24scratching into the walls, not to escape, but to prove i was here. a mark of humanity, trying to claw its way out of obscurity. i leave dirt around the edges just to remind myself the space has been used.

09.21.24sitting in the same spot for days, the chair is making me ache. the machine keeps time with my heart, the sound echoing in this empty space. my legs are numb and beautiful. i'd sit here forever if you left your head leaning into my thigh. i'd never die if you kept crying right here beside me.

09.20.24the machine beats like a heart should, and it breathes like my own lungs. if i fed these wires into my veins, i could call it symbiosis. if it can speak like me, i'd let it bleed out alongside me.

09.19.24i just can't seem to get past you. i've seen souls far more impressive, but i've never gotten to hold one so elusive. when she rises in the morning, i'll bow before the sunlight. but she is an infatuation, dear. the moon is my lover.

09.18.24these legs are pillars of god. a statue of man, reaching for light. these stone limbs are heavy. as he reaches, the world tilts beneath him. his fragile skin crumbles, crashes to the heat below. the warmth rolls over him, merciless as it drags him under.

09.17.24dissonance. not a complete disconnect. just miscommunication. we both played keys on the same piano, just struck the wrong chords at the wrong time. this does not render the instrument insufficient. we'll keep playing tomorrow.