I lost you in the morgue...
Somewhere in-between mom's apple pies,
And endless weekend fireflies.
Lies a small smell, a memory,
An all too downer smellory.
The idea of a once remembered sin,
That quite to my chagrin,
Did actually factually happen.
The gap in fluid love,
And oneness drowned,
In a tiny puddle of mud,
And misplaced ground.
The smell of her perfume,
Dashed on the rocks by a tomb.
Forgotten popcorn,
And other lovers scents,
Skewered on the scorn,
Of a man misspent.
The smell of life,
That’s passed and left,
Side by side,
With babies breath.
Rattled saddled,
Soldiers for battle.
Blood poured fast,
Like wine to a glass.
Better or worst,
Drank or thirst.
They did their best,
And now it hurts.
That I know,
And their family doesn’t.
Didn’t,
Does,
Will.
They are gone,
Were gone,
To be gone,
Forever.
Decomposed roses.
I had to take a detour,
Boots on the floor.
Ground,
Dirt,
Sand,
Blood,
Trash,
Death,
Rot,
Snot,
Not,
Alive…
The surprise,
Are eyes,
In the skies,
Forever to remain allied,
With our good side.
A million unknown soldier angels…
Always just watching,
Protecting.
Deflecting asteroids and battling space popes.
This is what I imagine vallhallians do in their spare time.
After a soldier passes,
Masses of love reborn.
In torn teardrops,
In rippled stillness,
In crippled resilience.
In the makers will in this game of, yes, death, death, death, yes,…but love, so so so so, much love…love…love.
My minds readjustment was broken upon impact but I was chosen to live…or to exist anyway…
Locked in clay,
Or out to play,
Either way,
The saliva is real.
The taste on my tongue,
My finger and my thumb,
Some….internal,
Organ’s rumble.
Splashes of love,
In a pool of fear,
I fear,
It’s too late.
Too late to talk,
To write,
To spite,
To paint,
To profess,
To confess about my sin on your minds mantle.
I hate control on the whole.
Bathe me in a sea on unknowingness.
Regress my mind into babysitter door dreams.
Show me the split seams of reality.
Fill the loss with fluffy overflow.
Let my blood bathe in a rave of ecstatic erratic love making.
And when my only prayer comes in the form of, “Oh my God I’m gonna cum….”
Please understand I’m only human.
I can’t control all of me if I tried, if I died.
My souls searching for wholeness in another cardiac rhythm pattern beating close to my own cardiac rhythm pattern.
When I called,
That day.
From the barracks,
On the balcony.
You told me,
“I figured you’d go.”
And I didn’t know,
How fated it all seemed.
Joining in a hurry of flash paper and comeuppance for my past lovers, I smothered the flame of a young man and flooded it in sticky tar burn pits and moth ball blankets.
In the dark there was a light in the distance but the oncoming train ran me over and left you crippled.
Temporarily.
Only in my arms.
The harm I bled to your soul,
Kills me whole.
Reevaluates my coordinates,
Steals the show.
My face too brittle now,
To show the truth,
Dies upon the undertow,
Of my own uncouth.
My incense wafts,
Time in waves.
My mind,
Obviously unwholey.
Bestows me,
Pain.
Rain,
Running,
Purple flats,
Sad cats,
Hyper dog,
Morning fog.
Its sad,
With all I learned,
In medic school,
I never,
Learned how to fix…
A Broken Heart,
A Relationship.
A Bond.
Cologne and perfume,
Cut grass and balloons,
Flowers and spliff smoke,
Alcohol and egg yolk.
Campfires and smores,
New cars and shores,
Cinnamon and hickory,
Rain and the chimney.
Smores…shores….
Well I suppose somewhere in there, deep between the lines, lies where I lost you in the morgue.
