Loving Validation

I wanted you,

And you said the same.

I said we would be wed,

And you said you were serious.

Always, it was about you,

My love,

Ten years is a lifetime.

I've lived two different lives so far,

And the next will be the longest.

Ridiculous, if only,

I thought that still.

You were warm on your own

Once you got in my head,

And I wanted you out,

To survive.

Happy to be alone,

Running to the grave.
You wanted me,
And I said the same.

A Marriage at Prentice Cooper

Bindless sunlight,
melting into fields of flax
under wire gates and bales.

Forever, forever,
walking together.
We grind, becoming one.

God shows love
in the understandable beauty,
great beauty.
I stifle my nose.

Is it for me?
As in,
am I destined?
Is it ours to relish?
It is, but all around
is spirit.
Filled until we reach
nothingness.

Beyond control,
everything breathes,
even me.
All else is detail.

As I lay down
in the flash delirium
I understand
the dream in the dream.

Damned

Where once so tender,

breaking them all down,

down in the grey wood.

Now,

the reddened carapace

shucks the blue rivers' tops,

too narrow for boats to circle.

A baby cries for care somewhere,

but your children are waiting,

and there is no time.

No me for you,

you for me,

and there never was.

Likado

When will you realize
that it is not your body,
nor your smile,
nor the implacable sweetness
to which I am drawn?
It is you, in all.

I run and avoid you,
the thought resurfaces
and brings me bitter joy,
like an insoluble grease.

If I found you alone,
what would I ever say?
"I love you"?
You already know this,
but I will make sure.

Pleasantries melt away
until we're left with
misunderstood silence
dragging aversion
tense hyperbole
of "worst, darkest, least."

Yet if you came to me
and listened to my verses
and knew what I saw,
perhaps you would leap
and take hold
like I do, always.

Demon from my Nightmare

Here I sit, waiting,
waiting for you not to come.
It's what's left of what I felt
over and over for you,
disgusting.

It's lovely to love,
but I keep you like a damp rag
to help me sleep
and dream,
all it ever was.

I won't wait,
as if you were coming.
It was silly of me to
find the right words.

If that was it,
I did what I could,
and then tried more.
Excess is regress.

You make my heart
STOP.

Nihilist's Life (Read Backwards or as Written)

Emptiness surrounds us.
A zillion little nothings:
the only meaning
is in the collision
of all those little nothings,
making nothing, really.

This bastard brought into the world
wants to,
or not,
find others like it.
It's not easy
living like this.

It starts with a feeling,
then things take off:
a bottle and flame,
moving from green to white.
But no,
the feeling is my friend.

But at the end,
there's nothing left,
nothing, really.
Nothing to remind them
of all the wasted time.
Nothing.

Seeing You Dead

I was dead,
watching you die.

Awake with the
pain of living, living
and trying not to die.

Oh, God, it's all been
spent on your
expiration notice.

Lain against the
yellow corduroy,
I see your screams.

Those of fear,
of torture,
of hopelessness.

I carry you with me
always, for
it won't let go.

Drive others away
when they get
too close.

The rapture lasts only
so long as I
can forget you.

Please,
Leave
Me
Alone.

I died,
seeing you dead.

Dark Current Meeting the City Shore

The sky watches the
ground, and you could be
far away for all
I know.

Not one for the vast
ocean, but
Lake Michigan I can deal
with.

You and I are where
no cars go.
It's our own planet
with a dark sea.

But a resident arises,
a duck and her 'lings.
I envy how they embrace
the current.

You love the feeling
of drowning and
fighting for another minute
of life.

This is the end for you
and I. let us remember
to not think of the future
that is not there.

Besides, you're going back
to Colorado, and me to
the South. So don't cry,
and move on.

We both knew it
wouldn't last
under this sky
on this land, so
grab my hand and
drop into the water
one last time.

Income

All these
meaningful
misguided future
servants look at
me like a
servant.

I serve none
but my own
intentions,
be them independent
or subtly washed.

Wiping tables
to please them...
who's in control of
a fucking kitchen?

The coitus machines
line up and
expose themselves
but talk too much.

I stand still
with my back
deteriorating
as I
sell my soul
for minimum wage.

The Day My Dog Died

It walked so far away, away because it
was embarrassed at how much of a failure it was
to be dying.

So it was decided on the last day
of the year, or maybe months before,
that it wasn't good enough anymore.

But how could it be so bad
if it could escape on its own
without the needle?

Hair thinning and greying, claws reticulating
and bending, ears becoming
more sensitive and less useful.

I can understand, but
the judgement makes me sick.

So, could it remember
all the nights crawling under a bed
on the hard wood?

And did it know
the boy who held its body
close before its life stopped?

And can it have understood this thing
called love,
as a thought or feeling?

But, most importantly,
did it live to its expectations of success
even when it didn't hunt or reproduce?

I remember.
I know.
I understand.
I lived.

Insidious

Fidgeting with
discomfort as we
know the violins
are coming
to crash
again and...
you guessed it.

Fear is
a pinching scream,
nothing more.
To startle is cheap
like a
drugstore present.

I never understand
your interest in
such matters
or how
it arouses you.
But
I thank the fox that ran in front of
my car and made you want to
fuck me.

Fear and arousal:
the two things that
make me feel
alive the most.

I could die
this way.

Nichole

I listened to

That song

The other night:

Still

I think of you

Every time

Five years later.

How sweet you always were:

A beautiful, pale

Girl to take me

Away from my father

And my dead mother.

You reminded me of

My love

For dope

And made me

Think

You cared.

Nichole,

The first crush

I was close to.

You were a great friend,

Only that.

And

When you told me

You had a boyfriend,

I almost stopped.

I became Mr. Hyde

When I was high.

The mind goes to

Recesses

With too many people

In the room:

You two

And the virgin,

Me, who

Thought love was a

Mighty warrior.

And

When you left

Whats-His-Face,

I was already

Clean.

So just like that,

We

Missed our chances.

"Thanatos"

I want too much from

Life, and I see that it’s bollocks

Anyway because it’s not like things would be

Significant if I were to kill myself.  So, should I be trusting

My sight with information that doesn’t make sense and doesn’t

Matter, or should I just go ahead and say “Fuck it, it’ll be ok” for the hundredth

Time?

I don’t have a gun,

And I don’t have a reason to, ok.  I have too much to do to take my life.  Someone

would have to deal with my decision, and they would surely stop me if

they realized what was going on in my cognition.  And I don’t

want to be institutionalized and have that intake

available for records, though I don’t

know if it is.

And they will cry and say, “Please, Austin, don’t do it!  You have so much to live for!”  “So much to live for” is so cliché.  If I’m happy, sad, angry, lonely, excited, afraid, or otherwise, it’s all useless feelings.  I

Try so hard, day to day, and it seems like so many stupid goddamn assholes are excelling at this bullshit.

Mean, come on!  Is it your God that            you are  unconsciously living for?  Maybe I

should ask someone else.      “These            things that have comforted me, I drive away.”

A great line. He’s saved my life    on            more than one occasion by distracting me

from what I’m thinking.  Everything passes, so why bother waiting on death?  It’s natural, would be easier than falling asleep most nights, and thanatos comforts me, like a drug not tried but lusted after.