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@monomorphilogical
poetry ♱ writing ♱ all work
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Sixteen
lost it one too many times
going over the blur of passing highway signs
I remember when the whole world smelled like gasoline
stained fingers leafing through some sun-bleached magazine
just a hole in my t-shirt and no stone to throw
and before I know —
I feel the way I did back when I was sixteen
heading aimlessly for some nicotine stained fever dream
it goes to my arms — tears in my eyes
beneath my clothes is nothing but a coldblooded disguise
back when all the good folks would go to hell
and all the bad ones got off on a drawn out kiss farewell
— can you hear me?
was I easy when the girls were young and free?
trying to look for heaven with fingers dancing through the flame
soaked through with anger at the waiting game
hanging out in the middle of the parking lot late at night
worn out charcoal eyes begging for a fight
when sticks were still in the bayou and I never cut down to the bone
trailing the death of me whenever I managed to get home
best goddamn days of my life
going on and on about how "I'm kickin' it baby and I'll survive"
but I always needed something more
wide eyed — big smile and cleaning collateral off the floor
always in head over heels in love with a fantasy highway car chase
as long as I could get used to the new face —
it didn't hurt to be loved
I didn't want it if it didn't make me pray through a mouth full of blood
and I kinda liked when it'd hurt that way
— it proved I was something at the end of the day
a little adrenaline to cut open the edge of my mouth with
while you were standing there pleading the fucking fifth
and maybe I was too mean
or maybe you were tearin' at me in places never meant to be seen
I'm a bad idea — a real good time
double-visioned as we go to yours or the parking lot off I-59
pressing a mouth to a mouth on some Godless Sunday
praying I'd take your breath away
give you a reason to take my life with the same hands holding me
I loved you so much that I lost touch with reality
you're nothing but a fucking drive in theater going up in flames
I remember the gasoline soaked memory through all of your games
when I'm driving down the interstate on my own
and I should've known —
I'd feel the same way I did back when I was sixteen
backwater town pretty with a mouth made goddamn mean
spitting my love on the ground
nothing but wet-teethed bodies following me around
saying how a dog's still a dog even if you change its name
even though I was winning at the changing game
spinning circles in an empty parking lot again and again
knowing my time was around the corner but never truly when
but now I'm behind the wheel instead of riding shotgun
God as my witness there's something in this car that smells rotten
I can't stop trailing the death of me
— and I've always been afraid of what people say or see
'cause the air feels just like it did when I watched the cars go by
from the overpass in a suffocating July
and I couldn't tell them any of them apart even if I wanted to
now the cars on this road look that way too
and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it 'cause I do
I love it when I bleed and I like it when I can't tell apart my rearview
'cause at the end of the day they're all just the same
a set of wet teeth and reaching hands carrying a different name
but there's nothing to be done about a couple of old scars
long winding road and the same type of cars
right now I'm both twenty six and sixteen
backwater town pretty with a mouth goddamn mean
Beneath the surface
from scarred tissue through where the vein bleeds blue
you've got a river running through you
dragged along by all of the weightlessness of a waterfall
saying how it makes you want to put your head through the wall
around the corner from a kitchen light heaven sent
but there´s already a hole in the door down where the key´s gone bent
'cause you´ve had your knees cut before you even crawled
surrounded by sharp edges from every time that yesterday called
spending every hour counting down the days
no time to mull over the meaning of a close-mouthed phrase
when the world's turned upside down it doesn't matter who's above
they held your head beneath the water and called it love
while you tried your hardest not to crush into sand
and they never wanted to understand —
already halfway out the door before you could even walk through
the days dragged long — and it only hurt when you let it
so you got hit and got hit and got it
then come back and do it to yourself ´cause it didn't matter
when nobody's around to see your reflection shatter
and just like the tide you raised your hands to their recklessness
driven to the edge — drowning in carelessness
fallen far from reality with echoing futures outside of your view
your hands held on so tight everything broke in two
so you borrowed your indifference to fit you in
until your blood ran thin —
and you told yourself you're just a stoic statue fit for nobody
paralyzed by the absence of your own soft body
and you washed it away at the river that never brought you to shore
unraveling at the sutured horizon promising something more
so you made sure to witness each sunrise come hell or high water
dragging your feet home like a lamb to slaughter
letting in the night each time you came home to the dark
lights off — nothing but a scuff mark
there´s traces of you throughout every gravel kicked road
and you cashed in on each blow you owed
strung out and stone cold
half homebody — half locked jaw shaking uncontrolled
now all you know is how you feel and how to deal out of pain
from the weight that comes with your name
each time you remember the ones that live to empty your lungs
you're dragged beneath the water that's hiding behind their tongues
and you'll search for a different way to keep from setting sail again
— telling yourself you don't know when
but each time your sky breaks open like torn skin
the rain carries every echo you try to keep deep within
while you bury your head ashore from sinking further into the mud
I know the rain turns to tears and the tears turn into blood
in the way you look at me with those watery eyes
and it feels like I’m suddenly falling from the highest of highs
— it feels like falling into the sea
the deepest parts of you an infinite depth below me
while you act like water won’t raise at the break of night
but the world's always been cruel in the lowlight
terrified on that side of the conversation 'cause you don't know how
but your soul is so much closer to my mouth now
and I'm not scared you'll bite the hand that comes near you
'cause my darlin' — it takes a whole lot more to break me in two
and when the river runs dry just for you to choke on air
I'll stay with you there
and I'll hold you through every torn sky that tries to tear through you
until the both of us are hopelessly soaked through
'cause you've got my body — flesh and bone
through every battered stick and through every sharp-edged stone
so tell me where that runnin' river of yours will lead
and I'll weather every storm to catch every drop you bleed
Octavio Paz, from a poem titled "East Slope," featured in The Selected Poems of Octavio Paz
Dirt pits
I made a fool of myself in the stretched out absence of a fight
everybody knows time passes slower in the flicker of a street light
and I've spent a long damn time driving in between a river and a road
with a unhinged jaw shakin' beneath the heavy load
twenty five and still crying in my sleep
too tired to open my eyes — too weak to make promises I can't keep
terrified to watch them leave and wait but they never come back
so I smoke through the entire pack
praying I don't have to talk if my voice has gone to hell
throat all choked up — how can they hate me when I do it so well?
but tradition's ligature marks always cut right through
and I lied when I said I didn't care to
if you try to hurt me I won't stop you — as long you do it good
cut me up and draw out blood
maybe then I won't go so white on the wrong side of the bed
on a cold mattress and no soft place to put my head
'cause it felt like bleeding out all over the sheets
listing to the night fall and helplessly crash through the streets
while time dragged on
I fucking hate 'em for all of my torn through heaven sent babylon
I've been here for years — I've been here too long
and only God knows I'm not that tough and I'm not that strong
but what's gonna scare me when I've seen it all?
always on the edge wondering what would happen if I let myself fall
'cause a river is still a river even if it's gone dry
and there's nothing left to do but sit there like a starving dog and cry
lockjawed around some unspoken thought
begging anyone who walks by to be taken out back and shot
I'd do it to myself if I could
just to avoid the feeling of being misunderstood
'cause I've busted already bruised knuckles just to feel alive
and I've fallen asleep on the edge of a knife
there's not a lesson left on earth I haven't learned the hard way
and there ain't a place that's made it easy for me to stay
I've stood on the ashes I used to call home
and that fire has burned every part of me down to the bone
long enough to forget the way I was supposed to be
and now I'm terrified to bite the hand that's right in front of me
but last night I blew you a kiss — I hope that you got it
underneath there was a whole lot of teeth and I hope you caught it
like a witness to an endless maceration
continuously lost on the wrong side of the conversation
but I don't need nothing to be happy anymore
I just need to know that you won't let me fall to the floor
'cause I know this town will bury me when my time comes around
deep in the country that drove me to the ground
and if I asked you filled to brim with years of doubt —
would you hold your breath and pull me out?
'cause come tomorrow I will wake up to the voice of you
praying you'll warm every weathered part of me through and through
Waning Weather
praying on my knees on the side of an emptied out field
for each time I've been mouth to mouth with a fractured windshield
I'm continuously driven to every edge of me
stuck in the light of a burning cigarette — but my eyes still won't see
love has never meant enough for me to find myself in the light
but stained glass windows mean too much to me to grieve the fight
and I've had to raise my fists in front of every open hand
how many miles longer do I spend kicking up dust on this dry land
— my flesh and blood's been starving for too long
I was the fated witness to an absence that should've kept me gone
like making love beneath trees that loom and never grow
I'm still walking down the road that drove me to the ground long ago
with its pastures spread out through my endless transgressions
I am a burning cathedral soaked through with confessions
forever mispronounced through an open mouth of sacrificial blood
my love’s a wound begging to be washed clean by the flood
I've walked in between a river and a road and it all looks the same
far from a promised land — one I still can't name
all I've known is a highway car chase littered with roadside kill
but I'm sure there's a calm before the storm in me somewhere still
'cause I've slept on backseat leather in every place I've been
kept warm by the fire burning out within —
so drag every part of me down beneath the surface of a rising tide
guide me in the depth of a body that has never felt the divide
with soft spoken mouth to my shameful sin
and deliver me from a fractured horizon perpetually luring me in
'cause heaven alone can't untangle my limbs from unforgiving reeds
and I'm still full with the potential of consecrated deeds
through the tangling and loosening ties
my prayers stumble out from an open mouth and waning eyes
I am smothered — covered in endless traces of this buried fallacy
but the water reminds me of who I used to be
every time I close my eyes I see but a fraction of different futures
my catatonic limbs drift through my unraveled sutures
and I cannot make out the split between a promise and reality
so look away when my shaking jaw closes around my own mortality
and lay me down upon an unwavering faithful ground
with hands cupped over the cut of my starving stainless teeth
all over over the stretch of skin where softness still hides underneath
my fingers ache to touch the softest parts a man can take
and just like the rain I set out to wash out the hurt from every ache
because a bruise is just time running out to heal
but I'm scar-tissued sweet and I've got nothing left in me to conceal
as my blood carries away with the river at the edge of my feet
I'd give anything to turn from fractured concrete
my fingers sinking deeper into the soil in attempted instinct
both the dirt beneath my nails and within the whole of me are linked
I've seen it written on every billboard I've passed before
please — remind me of every holy conviction bursting from the core
my eyes are filling up with the depth of a river blue
'cause there's a light pouring in and I'm already soaked through
between the washed up shore and this deep country green
my spine molds to the shape of this earth and I am washed clean
helplessly licking the back of my teeth for a taste beyond the blood
like grass swaying back and forth with the current of a flood
and I lean my head back when the sky breaks apart
basking in the light that evaporates every tear from my heart
Tennessee whiskey
I'm sitting across from my hands on a heavy leathered stool
in an off beat bar down a backroad that's only been goddamn cruel
I've got me a bottle in one hand and my heart in the other
and when my glass is empty I'll wave to the bartender for another
'cause after every damn time that my heart got torn in two
the whiskey would just pour right through
— I've seen of plenty men and women lookin' to get their fill
and there's a wickedness in me still
'cause the devil finds me in every wrong place and wrong time
when I've been tryin' my best to walk a damn straight line
I never would've seen the trouble that I'm in if it hadn't been for me
and that damn love for honey whiskey tennessee
Lord have mercy on the angels that fell down on this country dirt
we're walking around with nothing but a heavy heart and a torn shirt
all these wasted regrets from the all the bad we're doing
we're all just drinking up whatever's the devil been brewing
— there's an old man in the corner that's tellin' anyone willing to hear;
'don't look twice at the bottle or you'll stay another year'
he's the kind of man that’s been to hell and came crawling right back
with a cigarette between his teeth from a half empty pack
and I guess I should take him for his word
'cause there's an honest truth in booze breath and a voice slurred
and I'm losing myself in the haze of a jack daniel's old number seven
God knows I ain't got another year in me if I wanna go to heaven
but this life of mine hasn't been all too kind —
it's just easier gettin' through it with a whiskey soaked state of mind
I don't pay no mind to my heart when my body's gettin' sicker
but that man in the corner ain't no stranger to the soothe of liquor
and he says to me 'don't you come here anymore
'cause I drank more than you've ever spilled on this barroom floor
here the devil sticks like whiskey to the soles of your boots
and he'll poison the ground each time you try to lay down your roots
so make yourself gone and don't come back
before that devil burns that soul down to charcoal black'
but I've met that old devil a hundred times before
and I can't see the split between my soul and his anymore
life's got a way of leading you down to the crossroads too damn fast
and remindin' you of the writing on every wall that you've passed
so I sit up as straight as my worn out body is willing to go
and I look that man straight into the eyes and let him know —
'I already lost my way and ended up stranded on this town's bad side
and that devil came smiling sharp as a knife before I could decide
so give me a better reason to be good to the love I still got left in me
'cause I ain't leaving this bar just for the good in me
but if he ever crosses my path I'll be sure to pull out my old six shot
and put a bullet right through the soul he bought'
he takes one look at the state of me and raises his half-full bottle
and makes a noise that's louder than a hand-warmed throttle
he shouts 'you oughta learn to keep it steady between the ditches
it's your choice if you wanna be buried beneath burnt bridges'
I can't stay — I don't want to leave
this low down bar's making it hard to hold onto what I believe
but I can't stop myself from thinking of a right place at the right time
so I guess I should take it as a damn sign
and get myself off of this damn old heavy leathered stool
pay my last dollar to the bartender that's only been goddamn cruel
'cause I never would've seen the trouble that I'm in if it wasn't for me
and that damn love for honey whiskey Tennessee
Witness to the absence
I have fought the urge to dig into the meat of my stainless thighs
by the pull of a twitching muscle to my veiling eyes
inevitably tired from falling asleep to every dream I find you in
so I'll take the long way home — down the road to ruin
the street lights are mouthing at the edge of me
leaning my head back as the night succeeds to embarrass me
and I bare witness to the maceration
wet-teethed on the wrong side of the conversation
if it all went to hell you wouldn't have a thought about saving my life
my body seeking to be loved to death by hand-warmed knife
I give in so easy — my skin feels so heavy
I am plains and pastures overgrown and burnt out already
wordlessly buried besides a pavement that drove me to the ground
while time drags on and never comes around
my starved out body becomes possessed by the insatiable need
and your hand hovers over my mouth with nothing to feed
praying this is the end when I know it’s not
haunted by the soundless implication of an empty parking lot
I want to know — I want to let go
but I'm busy watching the forest for the trees loom and never grow
the dirt beneath my fingernails means nothing to them
and in the morning I will have to crawl out of the weeds again
walk my way to the only home I've known
where I think about you each time I'm undressed and alone
heaven turned away when it turned into a body that I prayed to
I want to show you — if you want to learn how to
softly swaying from the wind blowing in through the open backdoor
it is a far cry from how warm the world used to be before
and I take the cold to bed with me
while catatonic waves ripple through the empty space inside of me
'cause your mouth's forever salivated with overwhelming desire
and I watched as you burned out the gasoline fire
lost with the knowledge that there is no beginning — there is no end
like an aftermath of a car chase burning up around the bend
but if you want you can take a bite of me
I'm already bled empty knowing you will never love me
“I studied philosophy, history of religion, aesthetics. And ended up putting myself in chains. Of my own free will.” The Sacrifice (1986), Andrei Tarkovsky.
Hand over hand over heart
you've got bad dreams tailing on about smoking a taillight grave
and all of the bad memories your secondhand machinery forgave
these dead nights will make passing by headlights rue the done day
if it wasn't for the stick shift you'd have a hand to give away
greeting a clenched fist shake to the hitchhiker waiting on the I-65
you'd pick up God himself if you weren't scared to survive
break the hold onto the cross swinging over the center console
you'd rather wallow the empty handed so it never swallows you whole
holding a hand over hand over heart just to prove you're still here
aching to tell anyone about another goddamn long year
all tired tires worn through with the length of another dry mile
black lungs breathe through the fumes just fine but it's been a while
rolling down the windows 'cause it means so much to you
but there's no reflection in the smudged glass of a pileup rearview
backroad left behind the four-wheeler driving through a red
there's a sign to stop but the color lost all meaning where you bled
stained sheets have turned the interior guts and glory a mud gray
free-handing the wheel 'cause you still haven't found your way
with memories of an old engine beaten down by secondary sun rays
scrap metal rusting in the desert besides roadkill dead for days
beneath an endless sky that never gives you more than you can take
there's a desecrated heaven in the way your fingers shake
aching to curl over the looking glass buried in the palm of your hand
bending wrists over backward in a fist fight for the free land
begging for a close look to the closed book of a story soaked holy
happiness is a hand warmed throttle turned over slowly
like cruising down a farm field byway
your faith's making out with concrete that refuses a highway
and the turnpike six lane reminds you of the battles you never won
of years rambling on like a lost son
and the desert sand is piling up like your mouth's running out of time
like sleeping the backseat leather with a twisted torn out spine
the dirt buried underneath your fingernails daydream about home
swept away when you white-knuckle the early morning alone
the summer sun wins every losing game against a night grown cold
you've got a coyote's hunger and you've got no hand to hold
keep it hard pressed against both sides of a faded billboard sign
broke down on the side of a gas station with lights divine
licking the inside of your teeth like there's salvation within gasoline
you've got a taste for the honeyed sweet obscene
drowning out cries of the night carving ligature marks into bones
you'd shatter yourself in a fracture for simple sticks and stones
so bend and break the morning back and climb your body in the front
pump the clutch until you're the one chasing a hunt
driving through a battlefield of ribcage haloes and wet teethed jaws
your love's a wound and your blood's home to roadside claws
forget about taking too sharp a corner 'cause you're only going down
there's no one around in the shape of this town
I know you're tired of driving the along the endless line of the wire
life's not a highway car chase and you won't win by the inch of a tire
but you're geared towards a dream you've had from the start
you're still here with a hand over hand over heart
Dirt road promises
there's a heavy shouldered angel for every mile that weighs on us
but there's faith to be found in a dirt road promise
if you knew about the road I'm on I bet you'd wonder where I've been
every storm weathered by the ligature marks on my skin
it hasn't been that long but God knows it's been a damn hard one
and I'm tired of kicking up dust with every tire spun
the blood I spilled has long dried up on my hometown street
but it's still flaking off the torn leather of that old pile-up backseat
and I promise I've never tried to take anyone's life but my own
in that goddamn house that's never felt like a home
I spend my life like a highway car chase 'cause I'm lost in all my sin
but I'll take the straight and narrow if heaven ever lets me in
so I beg you to watch the way you're white-knuckling that wheel
'cause driving in heavy weather will corrode any heart of steel
soon you'll see how there's a road and a river and it all looks the same
while the rain beats down on your scrap metal frame
I know what it's like to shake until you can't keep it in check
all my push and pull limbs held on like a scratched out tape deck
I took too sharp a corner — the byway shouldered angel's nightmare
and I watched as their sacred bodies froze and died right there
my hands couldn't win a mile in all of their fight or flight
so I took care of their brittle bones hidden beneath the street light
and I buried them on the side of the roadkill passed over on the I-65
there's an end to this road not many will survive —
but I don't need you to tell me about where you've been
it was just a matter of time until I surrendered the urge to let you in
'cause my scrap metal shoulders are at home with bearing heavy load
and I'll keep it steady for the length of this damned dirt road
even though you don't get what I'm saying half of the goddamn time
just know I've seen the writing on the wall on every billboard sign
you're on a road of your own and even if I should've let you go alone
I hope you know that I can hold my own
'cause I've driven through the ashes that I used to call home
and I learned how to keep the fracture from the bone
you've just spend your whole life walking the same stomping ground
and now you're trying to cross a river where many have drowned
but there's no bridging the gap between today and years from now
those parts of you can only corrode for as much as you'll allow
there's more to spending a life on the run from the highway cop
driving's only fun until you want to stop —
you either become who you are or who they've made you out to be
the dirt road you're going down was never going to be easy
The death of a white horse
I am lead through the world by the hands of my own sickness
watching them choke on the spit of their forgiveness
but the scars will arise to their defense
there's no saving the skin tightening in repeated suspense
white-knuckle the wheel in thinking a machine could still betray me
and the engine drowns out through the nods of a baby
their empty hands have already reached into the pile-up backseat
fill the night with silence born from an mispronounced sigh of defeat
when the apple rotted through the core where it fell down
besides a river of blood where that line was meant to drown
they have never taken anything away from me
the ground was already barren between the roots of my family tree
only God knows why angels wait on the shoulder of a country byway
watching from the sidelines where I let my faith decay
and I never stopped it — call it sheer curiosity
ninety-five down the highway like there's something wrong with me
I'm winning in a losing game confession and it'll never be enough
'cause I can take a hit but I'm not that tough
tell me this life's all about knowing when it's time to sink or swim
I'll jump into the river just to illicit a response from him
and all of the angels will drown with me while I run softly out of air
heaven has forsaken the fate of a broken up radio station prayer
'cause I am strangled to death by love
forever listening to a white horse trample the ground above
I can only keep it steady on fractured concrete
the same way I continuously cut the knee on my hometown street
with dirt-covered fingers pressed against the flayed open nerve
— God never gives you more than you deserve
but it's not anyone's fault and I don't need nobody to pull me out
daddy told me that the white horse is something I should do without
so I watched it leave while I begged but it never came back
soaked through with tears until the world went black
woke up with my morality swinging forth from the ceiling beam
I used to be so good but they have made me mean
in between the jaw of a rabid dog 'cause its breath keeps out the cold
and the fear is there but it's getting fucking old
down on floorboards I've worn out by praying on my knees
I'd keep the wolf from the door if I wasn't weak from this disease
their teeth break my scar tissued skin so easy
and I'll lay there steadily bleeding out until they see me
'cause I am strangled to death by love
forever listening to that white horse trample the ground above
I am what they have made me — they will never save me
God will carve unto my body that he wishes he'd never forgave me
all of my bones will grind to dust beneath the weight
my edges sharpened to a knife until decay is all I'm able to create
hold me by the neck and lift my weary feet off the killing floor
I'll beg you to stop and you will bear down to give me more
'cause I've killed myself again
my skin gives so easy — but I didn't know it back then
all of my guts and glory spread throughout the power line valley
no different from a scared child running through the alley
after my daddy said white horses would never find me
I'll beg to the sleeper for a place to hide me
letting in a world of hurt with every straggler I drag home
but when they lay down next to me they'll never feel more alone
and they'll tell me quietly it feels like sleeping next to a dead body
they don't know my momma took me out back and shot me
I bit the bullet with lidded eyes and leaded limbs
corroded away until all my soft spots became cess pools for their sins
the body of a child molded into an afterthought for years to come
praying for a fist to the face to keep it from going numb
my hands are taught to throw a punch so I'll never hold it too tight
I'm winning the losing game by succumbing to every fight
no one will be there awaiting my survival to save me
and God will hate the way I have become what they made me
— 'cause I am strangled to death by love
forever listening to that white horse trample the ground above
Good Monster, Diannely Antigua