love junkie

i went to the doctor today
and showed him my tattoos
they hurt more than old
photographs do, dirty reds,
almost black when I'm drunk
doc just shook his head
and gave me a revolver

i took the cold metal with
both hands, revering its
isolation and authority,
it reminded me of God
as i pointed it at my heart
which was then uncannily
quiet, stupid stupid heart
can't think right, ever
and when it kissed the
barrel, it slept and dreamt
of ol' bonnie and clyde

god is a gun
love is a kiler

i got a song stuck in my
head playing like some
broken record, the more
you ignore me the closer
i get...is morissey gay?
not that i care. none of
my business who loves
what. it's the why's and
the how's that make me
want to...since reading
wuthering heights

love is a weeper

i'm going to read poetry
tonight. probably keats
some sandburg and maybe
a little shakespeare. under
the stars, incognito. oh
l'amour, one side promise
the other,  remembrance
you can have but never
hold either way. a shame...

and my greatest tragedy.

.

love junkie

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black

i have been peeking
into your dreams at night
you might have already
seen me, once, twice,
but i become faceless,
shapeless every time
before each and every
rude awakening
my name falling
not into your ears
but on the floor,
with your hand,
as it reaches down
for a cigarette lying
like a faithful dog
under your bed
and i'm gone with the first
puff.

i am what you might call,
the essence
that forms when
your restless thoughts
fight for space
in your brain
until all there is
is nothing and everything.
but you know me,
of that i am certain,
you allude to me
when you pray, or when
you think that death
has come for you, too
i may be your fears,
your desires, your bliss
i am the color
black.

.

black

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