the second history

well aren’t i ridiculous
to act the way i do
against you

punching out in directions
breaking the broken
shifting in and through
hard rip into all of it

to do it my own way
pushing to make
dominance in reverse

slurping sounds
as it releases
reel to end
be kind rewind

wind it all up
catalogue it
placed in an archive


revisit to remember
why it was

tape 2
a fresh start
without your bullshit
a new time

Being Other

Feeling overwhelmingly other,
being one of the others.
where are all the other others?
Lost in every metropolis,
drowning in the majority,
the majority of the minority
that the majority
thinks us and wants us to be.
A spectrum obscured,
disguised by the loudest of us,
falling between cracks
in representation.
Lost without reference points,
falling out of pigeon holes,
too much for some,
too little for others.


i kinda hate everybody right now
no exceptions especially myself
yes that does include you
a stinking mess of judgements
false meanings and false walls
your standards are not mine
a perspective around closed doors
our dicks are not the same
should i make myself vomit
maybe remove all my body hair
you painted this hell for no reason
only to whitewash it the next day
drum roll please as we smile
this may never happen again

My Dearest Violeah

My dearest Violeah,
you are so lost in the longing,
busy enveloping someone ever so firm,
dancing in the afternoon haze,
observed by distant crowds.

My dearest Violeah,
stop dreaming and start feeling,
his body will break your heart one day,
he’s not worth your tears,
but your hair will follow him.

My dearest Violeah,
your life as their woman is a half lie,
their imposing fog clouded your judgement,
you will dance on their graves,
maybe not today but someday soon.


Slowly caressing the walls,
a rising, a steady creep,
sliding over and consuming flesh.
Heavy heat hangs over,
oppressive and firm,
beads rolling down you.
Leaning one way, then the other,
a tilt in their direction,
with meat between your teeth.

midnight anxieties

escalating escalating
pushed way too far now
cold sweats
feverish fingering of dry skin
midnight anxieties
your past will meet mine
sway slow
a dance we won’t share
chain sore
pressures within your still face
burning halos
an itch on old memories


the blood makes for fine writing
red washing the statistics
a scream you cannot hide
dark patches of age and uncleanliness
watch these desks flip
soon to find the slices and let it out
draining more if needs be
look at these eyes
watch the shoulder muscles tense
ripples of your fate course through
a belief in explosions to be shared
joys in cracking ribs until you learn
proclamations by the fist full
piss is too crude and easily given up
splashes of blood mean something
means sacrifice means heart
we will bleed on your hate
your hate will be drowned out
sentences in bloodlove will stain
read what you see for it won’t leave
palms won’t hide you from this
laughs will not ripple through
not until this ends