Suicide

He waits in the barrel of a loaded gun

A smug black bullet with a necrotic head

Life concealing unknowable triggers

A withdraw of affection, a careless word,

An inscrutable expression any

Of these unintentional crimes

Could precipitate release

=

He hides his bonewhite semblance

In the chalk outlines beneath steel towers

Indelible lines that reconstruct landscapes

And render familiar streets impassably dark

=

He dwells inside candy-coated pills,

That kill with overindulgence

Deleterious, these self-prescribed antidotes

Numb with excess, breeding

Exponential cravings and the decay of reason

=

He drips sulfurous inside glass syringe,

Vein deep, he perforates with addiction

Flesh worn nails, staining red

Relentless the hollow ache of obsession

Strips away moral sympathy and

The body submits to vilification

To hands, brazen with lecherous intent

=

He creeps into the wreckage of young lives

Revealing his carnivorous secret

On stark white stationary, in letters

Dripping with fingerpaint  sentiments

Heavy black emotions marginalized

And minimized by preconceived lines

=

Unheard and unheeded, these alarms

The shrill cries of a deflating heart

Surrender to charred white fingers

That snuff out any residual hope

Of reconciliation.

The final recursive blow

Shattering our post-apocalyptic hearts

If only we’d known translates into

If only we’d admitted to ourselves sooner

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Mute

My lips conceal

An unspoken love

This thin line of silence

Translates my disappointment

As terse as the strings

That bind your soul

In self-serving betrayal

And I know you will never

Confess these crimes

For it is your nature that stains

=

The ink of my thoughts

Runs like wax, burning

Upon sentimental reflection

This ceraceous film

Ossifies all the chambers

In my souring heart

I do not know why

But I cannot forgive you

I still fall into the shadows

At the mention of your name

The cursed sound of animus

Astringent on my tongue

=

In your presence I became

A person echoed only in darkness

A fragile silhouette so emaciated

That I would’ve consumed anyone

To satiate my appetites, you made me crave

A world I did not know, a world

So diametrically opposed to my own

The pestilence of moral decay

You came to embody

The thirsting curiosity of Pandora’s Box

If I return to you now, we’d whither

If I returned to you now

We’d be consumed in artifice

And I’d lose myself all over again

In the hollows of what no longer remains

=

(I really struggled to get this out or really anything)

Day 16 Summer Camp

I didn’t have a picture of me at the camp but here’s me when I was little. Yes I was in a log cabin. When my mom first moved in with my step dad he was living in one. It was awesome living in actual cabin in the woods (I was from the projects in another city).

The only summer camp I went too was a daytime camp that was offered free for underprivileged children. They had various options but the camp I went to made Native American pottery. My dad is Cherokee so it was partly a cultural activity. But the other motivation for the camp was to make sure I got at least one meal a day. I really enjoyed the crafts and it was set up in a park so there was always recess from pottery making. I have no idea where the pottery went that I made I guess my mom got rid of it. The only thing I distinctly remember about camp was that a little boy had a crush on me and he would follow me around. One day he came up behind my swing and I screamed at him to move because I couldn’t stop. He didn’t and so I jumped out to lessen the impact. He still got hit in the face with the swing and lost a tooth though.