What is it for man
to tear apart
the flesh
from the core
until all there
is left is an undesirable
longing to once again
be ruby red
and glossed all over,
more lost than loss
at the power of your own
hand than
his?
Bad Adam
Tag: poetry
Nero’s Candle
I couldn’t be
brighter
if Nero dipped
me in wax
and lit me
in the green
of his garden,
a human torch
aglow,
hair and skin
and heart
melting and sparking
meant to snuff
me out,
but only
steering eyes
to the force
of my
fire.
The Night Man
I had a dream
about the other
you,
the good one,
the one that loves
to hear me breathe
and asks me how my day
was.
I can’t help it, though,
to think
of the half-shadow
of the sometimes man,
of his arms wrapping
me up into himself
until everything stings
of midnight.
It’s the darkness
that comes calling,
that will devour us all,
but in the other side of
you,
the not so bright one,
I hold my breath
as if drowning
because it sometimes
feels like I am.
But when my eyes open,
that’s the best part of it
all.
To see the startburst surge
against black felt.
To desire utter nothingness
only to be introduced
to light.
Evil Teeth
They are so white
and so pretty
and fit perfectly
within two sets
of gums.
They’re rooted
just so,
and when the people
see them, they rejoice.
But here our little hearts
weep and wail
because truth
is a bitter sword
between our own
teeth.
Not evil,
but not pretty either,
biting down on
cold steel
and tasting
the blood of
our martyred
hearts.
Bones
I gathered you up,
a little pile of bones,
to whisper some things
that have sharp-edged me
into the thing I was never
ever before.
I sought to talk to you
until talking was a thing
that hurt my throat.
And never before
have I spoken
to a ghost
but the ghost
of you is all
I have.
And then God,
took my chin,
and touched my heart,
and “look up” was the thing
I did.
And never ever
Before did I seek
to be sought,
but then He saw me,
He saw the once was
of you,
And thought to do
the thing He always does.
He held me
while I
cried.
