LOVE DOESN’T HAVE TO BE A CROCK OF SHIT

valiant knight collides
with sweet innocent angel

and separation ensues

desperate need for one another
willing to bleed for the other

what a crock of fucking shit

angels in human skin
are extinct
never even existed

knights wear armour
for a reason –
insecurities and demons
shielded

desperation for completion
by another entity
always ends in death

if we change the tune
of this co-dependent tale
the angel would drop
her messiah complex

but keep her wings

the knight would slip
the armour from his
body and his face
to let her in

because he wants to

and for no other reason than that

they are not craving
one another
due to feelings of lack
and worthlessness

but there is still an
ache
for the other

outside of need

removed of the wounds
they desire to heal

there is mutual respect
and admiration

there is inspiration

there is recognition
in endless ways

there is a wish for the best
regardless of physical
proximity

or current levels
of commitment

there is a desire
a wish
a hope

that their separation
will not last forever

and they know
that
it
won’t.

THE SCRAWL

I wait and I watch the ink
sink right in
as I scrawl my desires into existence
 
forgetting that words are spells
fails to eliminate their effect
 
remember when exclamations were made
about everything meaning nothing
and disembowelling the things
I’ve claimed to have known?
 
remember when I touted
expertise in destruction
giving way to a rebirthing moment
leading to a shiny new existence?
 
bleeding out would follow
like a truck into my face
a great way to start a brand new day
 
“how experienced are you really?”
croaks the Higher Self
“don’t forget you asked for this.”
 
so that dormant part of me arose –
the part that needed to die
for my freedom
 
and I
loved
it
to death
 
once I see it
feel it
love it
it gently dies away
 
fear of pain gets me nowhere
 
and it’s my own pain that I heal
which ultimately heals the mirror
that I live in
 
I desperately needed that
upsurging
upheaval
 
the retrieval of the dark and dead
the autopsy while I’m still alive
 
relapsing is helpful
and you had something to do with it
 
you tend to shake me to my core
 
from the moment that I burst into those doors
 
you strip my flesh back bare
without even trying
 
you can’t see everything about me –
the delicate
sometimes violent
interplay between
my infinite facets
 
I can’t see all of you either
but, fuck, did I feel you
and it lingers
obviously
otherwise I wouldn’t be here
 
so this reminder
that words are spells
brings me here now:
 
I want deep soul connections
with entities
sharing my best and worst afflictions
 
I never liked to live in between
 
I want my soul to dance
with a man
whose depth speaks to mine
while our minds intertwine
with explosions of ideas
and growth
and looking at fears
in the face
for the benefit of everything
that is
 
I want abundance
to rain down on us like the Creators
that we are
so no one need struggle
ever again
 
I want to super-accelerate
and keep my people
by my side
if they choose to come
along for the ride
 
I want freedom
in every sense of the
goddamn fucking word
and I wish the same for others
 
I want to roam this entire
goddamn fucking world
precisely now
 
and then I wait and watch the ink
sink right in
as I scrawl my desires into existence.

STEAL MY SANITY

Dear Silver,

With your face
always locked onto me
it feels easier to breathe

especially when I can’t see you.

When your invisibility
cloaks me
I sit inside this fake body
and let your gravity
move my insides.

I let your endless phases
work behind the scenes
so effortlessly.

This sense of proximity
creates a shaking
on the ground
makes irrational thoughts
appear to be sound.

Could this be real?
Is anything real?

I asked Beloved
to steal
my sanity

over
and
over
again.

Maybe my prayer
has been answered.

HUMAN

I love you as a human.

Not for what you can give to me,
not for what I can take from you.

I love you as a human.

For the life of smiles
you bring into this world
at this time.

For all of your pain
maiming you inside.

For some reason I can feel your pain
so much of the time.

Probably because that pain is mine.

So I have loved it

smothered it in self-acceptance
and independence,

drenched it in the belief
of my dreams.

For that reason
there is a lot of room in
me,

for that reason
there is only positive
movement.

For that reason
I love you as a human.

ALIGNMENT

we get drunk in my dreams
where apologies
flow like wine.

it was so real
maybe I would live there.

what’s so good about “reality”
when it pecks at me?

when dirt drips through the filter
I was given?

this excavation was hell on this earth
leaving only the remnants

of memories and body-states
that I tune into
so that I can see you.

SHIVER

Sometimes I shiver when you speak
when our knowing eyes
lock.
 
Even without words
I know you
for your body
sends messages only
the finely-tuned can hear.
 
The fibres in my being
caught fire when
they felt you.
 
The same fire
that consumes you.
 
I know you feel it too
I can taste it in your words
as they drip down
your mouth into mine.
 
We are of the same
burning.
 
The same yearning
invades
our skeletons,
our skeletons
ambivalently holding
vitality and deadness.
 
And deadness.
 
And it’s our descent into
the blackness
of the abyss
that binds us
for craving nothingness
is longing for oneness.
 
And I want oneness
with you.
 
Yes, our fibres are alight
set by parallel experiences,
set by the seeing
of the black hole
of our own soul.
 
The distance from
the end of the void
to the tip of the flame –
endless,
scattered,
horror.
 
You took alienation away from me
and gave me ecstasy instead.
 
And so
we let go
of trying to be
something other than what we are.
 
Our Selves seeping out
of every pore
the glitter and the decay
dancing together
as though differences do not exist.
 
I stand naked before you
sparkling and rotten.
 
The fluxropes
exploding from my eyes
reach as far ahead
as they do back
 
but there is a single link
that flickers
somewhere out in front of me –
a solitary section
of impermanence
that needs to be solid.
 
I know that everything is impermanent
and nothing is solid.
 
Is the solidity we both ache for
nothing but a psyche-deep myth
casting illusions of consistency?
 
Life is an illusion of consistency!
But love is not so!
 
Love is beyond
illusion, delusion
and myth.
 
It is the core of all that exists.

HOW DO I RECOGNISE A LOVE SONG?

How do I recognise a love song
when there aren’t any words?
 
Do the vibrations of the kamancheh
infuse into my nerves?
 
Is my heart that drowns in tears
alerting me to what I deserve?
 
How do I recognise a love song
when there aren’t any words?
 
Is the hypnosis of electric waves
a reminder that it’s You I serve?
 
Does what dwells within the depths of me
finally remember what it preserves?
 
How do I recognise a love song
when there aren’t any words?

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