Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Late Night Thoughts

You think the sadness leaves. It doesn’t. 

When I first met you, I said you were my Prozac with yet unknown side effects. Well I know what those side effects are now. First, that its efficacy is short-lived, and yet my body has grown so accustomed to it I cannot live without it anymore. Second, like most drugs, there is a period of complete and utter bliss, but then comes a crash that is so violent, it is something singularly spectacular to behold. 

These black, viscous, septic thoughts well up in my blood. These cancerous, virulent feelings course through my lymph. I’m trapped in a Sartre-ian limbo. Death says, you are far too contaminated, far too defiled for my kingdom. 

This sadness is inherent in me, in my mother’s blood, and her mother’s. This sadness caresses me, drowns me, buries me. I am the darkness that overwhelms, I am the darkness molten.

Monday, March 23, 2015

this familiar void again.
an abysmal, gaping hole of longing and solitude.

your absence is deafening.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

a tale of love and cancerous growth


perhaps i never really learned to love.
i love you -
tumultuously, savagely;
i never learned to love otherwise.

my love is a benign tumor in times of peace
it occupies you, it is a part of you. 
but it has the potential to metastasize and proliferate
into an ugly mass of hatred and vitriol
so violent, so malevolent,
it would consume you whole.

i love you
but perhaps not the way you learned to be loved.