a certain coldness known to jellyfish, ghosts, and me; a poem by me. thank you for reading.

Crimson ink....

New stuff

i need you

to know that

if it really

came down to it,

if it was between

her or anyone else

her or the rest

of the world

her or me

it would

still be

her

-mars

The Man in the Cave

I can see your hulking shadow,

At least forty whopping pounds

Heavier than when

I last held you,

Going on four years now.

I can see

Your bloated silhouette,

Complete with that

Homeless mountain mutant

Scraggly, dried up

Unkempt beard,

Let loose

Just like

Your claws when they flew

Through my digital wall,

Landing scandalously

In the lap

Of a shocked librarian,

Your plans for my demise

Marked quite clearly

In the fingerprints you left

From your sweeping touch

Of spite.

I can see the smoke

Trailing from your Winston

Cigarette,

Up into the broken ceiling

You used to look up at

When your heart held

A single drop

Of love for me,

Enough

To temporarily

Disable your monster

Programming.

Oh, had we stayed

At that stage -

But alas, I knew abuse

Like an old bad

Boyfriend,

And I took my leave

One sunny afternoon

Through a shivering cold

Phone call,

Breaking whatever

Kindness was left

In that sagging, sad

Dad body.

I swear the breakup

Sent your soul straight to hell

And then back for round two

When my gloves were down,

And nary a sound you made

Dismantling my new love

And upending my neatly organized

New life,

Victorious in your malice,

Planting me firmly

In an interpersonal disaster.

Round three:

I never saw the punch coming.

I was too safe,

Too crouched and clouded

In my own arrogant idea

That I had shaken you for good -

One should never underestimate

A bonafide sadist.

You came for my career

And I landed square on the jaw

But took it on the chin

And rolled with the next punch,

Whichever direction

It came from.

I can see you there

In that dilapidated garage,

Angrily typing

Endless queries

On your nicotine-soaked

Hate machine,

Chain-smoking while the

Toddler cries, Mountain Dew

Eroding your enamel

With sweet destructive acid,

Mimicking your heavy intent

For my soul to be

Soaked in Satan’s semen,

Come on from 104 miles

Away, reporting me being

Your sweet release

When acting out

Because your life -

Your wife -

Are out of control

And you hate it.

I see you

Scrolling my feeds,

Hunting like a hellhound

For any evidence you can use

To smear me and sneer

From behind your

Blinding white screen.

I can see you ejected

From beside your hefty meal ticket,

Crawling back to the boring life

You left for several years

When you tried for

True happiness,

A gift that is withheld

From the toxicity

You emit.

You may punch again,

You may swing heavy,

You may hit low,

You may aim high,

You may catch

A piece of my porcelain face

On the edge of your

Weighted gloves,

But you will never bring me

Down to my knees

To live in fear

Under your cruel Tudor reign.

I was Anne Boleyn,

Beheaded and disabused

Of my status,

But now my head

Is back on straight

And I see right through you

To your tar black

Soul.

You think I am the one

Who cannot hide from you -

But you, TD,

Are the one who cannot

Hide from me,

Because I see who you are

And I spit on your

Eventual grave,

Watering white

Roses of grief

With piss full of glucose

And victory.

Go on -

I dare you -

Try once more

For psychic assault.

I want to

Amuse myself.

Deep in the night, I dream

After the softness of sleep has taken me

Embraced me, and wrapped me up

Where I am free to be, to exist

As I am meant to

Wings of golden light carry me

To cloudy pastures

Where hope and love exist in abundance

Calling me

So when I close my eyes

Deep in the night, I dream

That I may be taken to that place

Where I am allowed to be me

I THINK I AM GOING TO CUT MY HAIR

These sounded poetic together :)

secret thoughts of flying animals 

i sent a lot of texts

that i wish i hadn't sent,

i returned a lot of calls

i wish never called again,

i spoke a lot of words

but they all came out abstruse,

I was fed a lot of lies

when i was hungry for the truth,

i gave people love

and they never had to ask,

i beg myself for some

but i never get it back.

- "i sent a lot of texts that i wish i hadn't sent"

Waited....

ON COMPLIANCE

“Black Hole,” poem assembled from quotations from Wikipedia articles

riddle, e.s.

specific state of dissociation

08/28/21

some inner child healing

in which you have lost a formative year of your life due to pandemic and start daydreaming again

no better, lorde / dead poets society / i still don’t know how to drive a car, a.dp / bee real, Alison zai @alisonzai / loving like an existentialist, Savannah brown / sue zhao / the perks of being a wallflower / ferris buellers day off / Walden, Henry David thoreau / closeness lines over time, olivia de recat / carissa potter Carlson / raymond carter