It’s darker here than anywhere in my life
I could be pricked in bittersweet rose gardens
My tongue could be caught on rough salt beauty ocean waves
I could bathe I glitter-sour sweat
But I’m beating days out here, instead
I’m wrapping my chocolate,
Still in idle form,
Because I’m saving this passion
(this 1-2-3 rush)
Just for you
The haunts, now, are seeping toward me
The lips of the hollow I’ve carved out
Are licking inward
I could brush off red ribbed salvia
Clear the stains of marrow stretching screams
With a wish, closed eye, face turned blind
I’d blink your ill fates and Octobers away
But enchantment never sat
With non-believers
So my sacrifices for the
Dabbled poet’s savvy skin
Are scarring deeper, marking surer
But I still cannot give in
For the rhythm still is beating
And the inertia drags me, speeding
I’m rushing forward, racing meaning
Short-lived, but full of rhyme and reason
The chocolate’s melted now and I am
Most literarily
Dying for the words to sing
Because, in two short seconds
I’ll be voiceless
And stuck in the darkest part of life
