tender

one, by one, buy one like a bag of mixed nuts, just...

sublimely message to gaslight my way, again.

great floods tear and drown out the world around, again.

hold-tight, hostage- with nothing but myself, again.

what do i want? in the stead of torment- again-

what few escapes i have, indeed.

from the maelstrom within, maybe peace-

sanctuary in internal dialogue alternatives-

oh, contraire; it's degradation, terror tactics in morse code

-it's-guilt.in.dots.and-dashes.with.epic.anxiety-and.stress.border-lined

with shame, fully scorned, and afraid of.it.all,

in post-traumatized installments.

fury and vengeance escape in flashes from my lips; and,

i fall from from the high within my heart, and

hide in my brain, and it doesn't stop pumping, and

it's all the things that keep me up at night- and

for them, there is no respite from me.

when you twist in my mix,

i tell you, now, i knew then it was a trap.

when held on for the ride round Dodge all night,

before it was time to get out a little more-

until you leave me soaking in the corner

disheveled in a sexual marinate, proprietarily seasoned

tender-eyed evenly to pupils and a pulp

for the soul of the cannibal with a richly educated palate, but poor taste.

come together and keep me separated til the end.

for these reasons: i am out of love; i am counting on lust;

i won't wear that mask on that mountain, to sensatory completion.

i am not and never was all that lost.

so what if i can't see you or what you found in me- but

keep emphasis on the blemished parts- but

after reflecting upon me next to identically- but

you circle me like vultures do. i watch you continue to- but

you give me that run-around love, kind-of fix.

and then squeeze me where it hurts and hug me with a punchline.

double-crossed shooting stars collided, blinded by the night

to roast what's left; wrangled and coercively re-signed.

the unbroken spirit brought down with audio/visual cataclysm.