lovealostcause

Inside of my brain is a beautiful madness,
brought forth by the sweetness of your
summer-worn brow.

If being cool is all the rage,
I'll turn into an arsonist.
I'll burn houses, children,
playgrounds, hospitals.

But most of all, I want
to burn the memory of you
out of my retinas. I want
to throw up the opal that
has settled deep in my
stomach. I want to cut
the touch of you out
of my arms.

I've just settled into my insanity.
It is, ultimately, my home. And in
some sick way, the only thing I
can claim that you've given me.

lovealostcause

We dipped our fingers in wax, watching the liquid solidify and crack on our skin. I worried about my latin terms. I worried about my theory. I worried about my sleep, my lips, my sanity. I worried about you.

He said, “Unrequited love turns the world.”

And I thought about you. Thought about you.
 

lovealostcause

I’m just going until I stop. Somewhere in there I’ll figure out what the fuck I am. I may just scatter into words, a big pile of fallen syllables all up on the ground, ground up, up on it, upon it. People can walk through me like broken leaves and get some of my words on their shoes and scrape their shoes on welcome mats and their welcome mats might say, “WELhiCOthereME” or if they’re lazy, I might get tracked all over their white carpets and linoleum floors. If that happened, I’d talk up to them all day and night.

“You look really nice today, this house is beautiful. Don’t change a thing, you’ve really got talent”

If I turned into words, people could walk through me and I’d crunch like so many empty beetle shells. Maybe that’s how I’d talk to them. Crunch Crunch Crunch.