Y.

There is a certain dignity
A subtle solace
In sadness
A quiet quaintness
In the tomb
That poisons even this shut up shut u
My face is rocks
My face is rocks
A stony silence
To shunt out the day
To shrug off the possibility
That I might be incorrect
That I might have drawn a conclusion
More erroneous than I can believe

It is the separation from possibility
That is what kills

If the greatest feeling
(and it is)
Is knowing and embracing
The myriad possibilities
And chances
And lives in tiny universes folded up into
And exploding out of
A single choice or moment
Then the worst
Is seeing it unreachable
And never knowing if you'll unfold

I rise from the air
My love
Mein herr
And push delight in all directions but my own

Ferrous.

Ferrous
Ferrous is what I feel when

When flesh is made
Caustic and rough
By the windchill and the carbon
Toxic smoke
Ferrous is what I feel

When I look down
Cycling through
A life left on the pavement and
A moisture-lost leaf reaches
Up and through my pupils
Takes my brain
In its metallic undying and deathly hand
Ferrous is what I see

When flesh is made
Permeable
Prickly, spiky
By the windchill and the tobacco
Ferrous is what I feel
Ferrous is what I taste
The ions on us tingle
Depriving you of water
And we're sour in each others' arms
Like running your tongue along a lamp-post
Or your keys

Ferrous
And toxic and tingly
Exchanging ions all the while

.

At some point in the future, Ollie, you're going to feel like shit.

It'll happen, that's an immutable fact. You'll feel worthless, like any effort you make to go in any direction is doomed to failure and all your endeavours inevitably spiral towards some sticky end yada yada yada life is tough deal with it etc.

I'm not here to tell you not to do that. Do just that. It's important. Lord knows your psyche can't run on arrogance alone. Just remember this:

You made people cry.

You, through force of will and artistic interpretation, shunted people into a state of raw emotion.

You didn't do it alone, sure, but that doesn't cheapen the fact that you managed to connect to people. Somehow.

So, just remember that.

You're never worthless.

Get Up.

It's probably
Unhealthy
Wrong
Self-destructive
But I have things
I plan to take
To the
Grave

Edit: And some lucky people might get to be those things.

Make It Mine.

It was perfect
It burned and it burns still
By way of some elemental precision
(Or maybe it was the drugs)
Temporal obligation has yielded to this moment
An anchor in time that won't sweep away

The downhill slide
We'd all resigned to the night by then
You tried to push on
Because you're just like that

Your feet were bare
Because, damn it
You were grounded
I sometimes wonder if you feel the earth like I do

Your eyes were wild
Or just more open than they should have been
And your pupils were so trained on something
Not bewilderment, not panic
A need to know something
I don't know, it doesn't matter

Your eyes were wild and your chest was bare
That green hoodie that suited your bleach blonde hair
And the zipper lined your white flat chest
And your stomach
And the curve of the collar around your neck

Against your chest
It beat and beat
Banging on your heart
That polygon dice
That twenty-fold cast infused in fate
At perfect angles to the hoodie
And your chin
And your waist

Your chest was bare and your eyes were wild
And lining your cheekbones
And staining your stubble
Distorting the light off your two-week growth
Left, blue
Right, pink

Back, green
Hair, white

And I told you the next day
How beautiful it was
And far away it was

What have you done?
Why won't it leave me?
Maybe it will now that I've
Made it mine

Malk Life.

I never wrote about us, did I?

No matter

Small wonder though

You latched right onto the obvious

I am your father

And I know you're content to rest

In your father's eyes

Because nothing is real

Least of all you

You learned that a hundred times

One day I will too

You were to me

What you sought in him

And the layers of your brain are still trapped in mine

Will you ever unravel?

You are the demon

Drenched in irony

That guides too much of my thought

BANG

-

And just below that another explosion another big boom big bang black brain bent behind boring banal bitch father mother lover weren't you and together duality isn't a lie I've seen it for myself and together we might just make something beautiful because you are beautiful you have a machete a rocket in three dimensions that pierces the veil of two I am knife and you are cake black forest shedding losing a layer did you run stupid boy did you run little coward wunderkind and fall into a rabbit-hole and into that cake made of strychnine it's okay we have antidotes here it's called inheritance you inherit an antidote purer than a thousand brains and I know you've killed before because you're a good boy beautiful boy and that's what good boys do I bet you killed your father aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand right into the neck BANG.

Parable.

Walking through the woods

One night

I saw a man who'd made a noose

Out of his tattered tartan scarf

He'd expertly tied the knot

Just right

Perfectly tight, perfectly loose

I said hello

He only laughed

He only laughed at me

He only laughed at me

And said

"Your words mean nothing on the whole

I can't take them to the grave!"

I said back "If you're to

Be dead

Why bother speaking if your soul

Will never now be saved?"

Upon the tree from which

He hung

He scratched a simple 'x' to mark

His place of suicide

Inhaling he then jumped

And swung

Smashing straight into the bark

Breaking his neck

The man had died

The inhalation flew right out

Upon the man's untimely death

Yet the scratching in the bark remained