Radio Static

This love is fragmentary
Wholly dysfunctional
Waiting for a reprieve
Or a chance to deny
Its place in this world
These spider-webbed cracks
Expanding out in waves
From a vitriolic center
Vibrations jarring clear
Vacating this empty space
And leaving it hollow
All numbingly vacuous
Shackled to expectations
That will never come true
Taking time and consequence
Like pills to be swallowed
When “love” isn’t “like”
And tears drown out pity
Because it’s all been said before
These catchy turns of phrase
That are nothing but artifice
Dressed up in church clothes
But going straight to hell
This love is a living hell
A symbolic lack of restraint
Disconnected from reality
Like so much radio static
In the middle of a song.

What Lurks Beneath

Behind these chocolate eyes
There’s a tentative monster
Waiting to explode into life
To throw off this shell
And love without limits
But that’s not enough
That’s not the only way
To tell you how I feel
To give you fair warning
Before showing you the flip side
Of this dear reverent love
This apocalyptic salvo
Threatening like storm clouds
A sonic boom reverberating
Thickly through my skull
This waiting for a revelation
That may never be fully real
A realization of my limitations
These scars thick like ropes
Holding me captive in my own skin
And the love that I would know
Imprisoned in this empty husk
Because paused energy is stagnant
It drains before giving up the ghost
Before exhaling into this cold night
Visible for a second
Then fading like these emotions
Like this pervasive impotence
That led me straight into your arms
Where you made me wish for a death
That will probably never come.

Broken

brokenman

I am broken
Fractionally incomplete
Frayed at the edges
By time and pretense
These conscious lies
Hanging around my neck
Like so much baggage
Heavy and obtuse
I am a tinkling glass
A banging cymbal
Crashing to the ground
But there is no fanfare
No symbolic gestures
No gathering at my grave
In tearful remembrance
Because I’m still alive
Stitched together
By time and consequence
Drenched by the downpour
Of my tears in the rain
Facing the wreckage of a life
Lived in the margins
Cracked and bleeding
Living but not really alive
Like a shadow of the man
I used to believe I was
So place a sign around my neck
Because I am broken
And somebody ought to know.

After

I feel your loss
Like a metronome
Banging out memories
Slamming metal on metal
Harshly reminiscent
Of how little time we had
And the clashing
And the clanging
These noises remain
Even after you’re gone
They fill the silences
Like nothing else can
Like a nightmare
On repeat in my brain
Because there is no after
No consequential more
Nothing left but images
Flickering in my periphery
Disembodied conversations
We used to have
But it’s all fading
Like a ghost at dawn
Because you’re gone
And no amount of absence
Could make me feel fonder
This after swallows me whole
Transforming my soul
Into some primordial ooze
Filling the silences
With this anguished scream
That I will never recognize
As my own.

Adjacent

unrequitedAt the beginning there was love
An expansion of a shared idiosyncrasy
That defined them without infringing
A blending of differences into one
Spoken in a common language
Broken by collective intent
Because love is never enough
In the shifting sands of time
Emotion clouding everything else
Like a painting under blacklight
As murky as the decision to leave
She sits on her bed amid the tears
Where they used to make sweet love
Replaced by a bitter reprieve
That twisted the knife in deep
Her guts spilled in its wake
And now she’s bleeding out
That tepid love draining away
To reveal a purity left vacant
Trapped inside the ultimate lies
Structured to keep her in place
This fluctuating pulse, unsteady,
Still beating in time with his
Even though he’s disappeared
And she’s left with an empty space
That used to be filled by them
When they were in love
Or at least adjacent to it
At the beginning.

To Love Me

unrequited-love-hr-careerI try to make her happy
These platitudes thinly veiled
This love weighed down like rain
Pressed upon by a dry season
In the middle of my soul
Yet she lives in plain denial
With the idea of a perfection
That can never be achieved
A fervent disconnection
Holding a mirror to her pain
So she can see forever
Or as far as she can run
Faster than my love’s wings
Like a conscious disembodiment
Painting shadows in the night
When I reach for her hand
But come away with nothing
A standing date with despair
Because she has never been free
To love me.