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The only ghosts I’ve met
expressed hesitant sentiment
that I talk too much.
Having come around solely
to hush my mortal sounds.
Like bragging, they say.

Or Me

Who will destroy us all?
I’ve got a bad feeling about the
quality of sleep her eyelids boast.
Lucid turned vivid, to hell with this.
She’s the worst in me; dreams and all.

One Year

Kissing halts, hips left unwrapped:
carnal displays. (Illegal tender.)
Another round of oh shit recognitions.
And it’s my mistake.
It’s not that I don’t fancy you.

Black Box

Providing a more manageable mediocre,
keeping daily grind
in mind and side-effects aside.
Proxified.
Thoughts tossed, marked unjust, and
replaced by ever increasing milligrams.
Kick back my comrade.
Our heads are balloons until,
like everything else,
they flatten too.
Tongue reaching out for once thought
solutions, only finding reuptake inhibitions
and adverse interactions.
Ex-helping hand found cause,
driving us mad.

Fence

Greener, I hope its greener there.
I hope its somewhere you’ve wanted to be
for far too long to hold out any longer.
You won’t do your own talking.
Cast aside any future plans because
you had to leave tonight, no goodbyes in mind.
So leave in peace you selfish piece.
I’ll always love you but won’t know why.
Still, with any luck its greener there.

Siste

What’s the worst that could happen?
Everything that did.
I echo my shadow’s disappearing act
and don’t let you in on the joke.

Pitch

Ears ring at the thought.
Starting over, losing sounds.
Lips hide words.
Here I am. Listening.
Trying.
Ears ring.
It seems I’ve lost
every pitch we ever shared.

Every Book

Sessions in my mouth
slowly turned to ashen words:
stained my tongue.
I’ll speak as though I’m not
spewing soot into every
vacant cavity I come across.
And then there was you.
Gaping, you stood.
Taking the brunt of my senseless
stream of discontinuous drivel.
For reasons I’ll never know,
keeping mouth open wide. Almost
saw down to where a spine
should reside, but I stopped short
of intrusive. Maybe my
infected dialect found pity halfway;
maybe a plural pronoun
best suited for sporadic use.
Meanings mostly loitered.
We vanquished. Vanished.
I’m waking up alone.

Ravenous Race

My sight was first with
vision coming in a close
second glance at a possible
third chance to steal you back.
Lust was in last at this point,
just shooting from the hip.
But hot damn,
what a shot he’s got.

Daytime Brother

As I sank through the floor
control pooled between my ears;
how daft of me.
Asserted someday
I should use that vacancy.
Every word like a bite from a silver apple:
Divine. And they glisten.
Still sinking, now I’m the third person.
And yeah, alright, so we’re alive.
Looked at me as to say “and now what…”
Better excuses mostly,
hopefully.

Bad Seed

I’m running my mouth.
Is it wrong it amuses me?
I’m feeding every ego I can find,
except mine: that bleak thing.
Waste away! I declare.
I’m a bad book, no surprise.

Harsh Reality

Wishful thinking: no thoughts.
Logic-less and tongue-tied
maybe I should learn to whistle.
But I like thinking of ghosts.

Ardor

Wisdom, you filthy mistress;
almost infectious with your
famine affection.
Serving perfectly tempting
rancorous radiation in
voltaic portions.
Oh, I must confess:
I can taste the trickery
going down with every bite,
yet for seconds I beg.

Serrated Notation

My pen’s run amuck, swopping
ink with just any old thesis.
How long has this been going on?
I’ll admit the only trepidation
is not knowing if my every
word was rogue ballpoint profligacy or
verity I can claim.
Ink collateral is lost skin deep.
Nefarious scribbles preserve my insecurities.

Autobot

Parched (read: starved for attention)
voice box fractures.
Prodding lights reveal early introversion,
eyes pick up the slack.