a poem (a question)
what is it like to chop up a body?
to sift through incomprehensible viscera do you want it on ice?
burned, shredded, buried?

close your eyes and reach in
pulp response, nothing but fiction
33 vertebrae minus one equals
a briefcase full of kneecaps and grey matter 
splattered lenses
red and red and red and -
look!
something emerges from the chest cavity!
it is a heart! beating and bleeding and oh so delicious 
after all of this work, you certainly deserve it
take it!

take its lukewarm final breath for it
watch it beat in your hands, watch it wither, watch it grow!
isn’t that fun!

on ice?
ah, a collector

…

diary 3
i was looking back at the older poems and i think that i always feel a need to end things with some personal remark or conclusion when it’s unnecessary. wonder how that reflects on me

to the intermittent enigma (text) II
you called me the other day and i got so excited that i jumped around the room. i had just been thinking about calling you. i really like that we still do that even though we haven’t talked in so long. i hope you’re well, in the way that i mean it more than when i say it to any other person i know. i’ll talk to you in n months

…

damn, diary again? this guy’s crazy
hello dan. not doing as great tonight, but hopefully this will help and then i can do some goddamn homework. i still love you. take care of yourself

car ride, december 22
taillights grow to form the bars of a prison
moving inward, pressure claustrophobia-red terror 
growing in silence under the pounding of freezing rain

opposing headlights block out stars 
horizon lines of yellow and white 
ghastly unremembrance streaks from 
one corner to the other

static plays, tearing into skin 
in the way that does not
heal into closed wounds 
serrated-teeth thundersound 

…

lover’s poem
how should i write a lover’s poem without the
i cannot carry myself without mirroring the way i hold your flesh
,
or the
you create the burrow in the world that i crawl into to feel warm 
.
how do i say
i have not loved in [time], but i think that if i did
i would love you newly
!

diary
i’m back again. i wrote some of the above just now while listening to Val’s old playlist. it’s a new season and i’m in a pretty alright mood. i’ve been very sentimental but haven’t been talking about it quite so much - although i’m not quite sure if that’s a personal change or due to the fact that raphael and i haven’t seen very much of each other recently. i’m going to bed, but i’ll end with the classic reminder to be kind to me. you are allowed to hold your flaws in front of yourself without breaking apart to fix them. not everything requires a reconstruction, you know. this is, of course, advice that neither of us will take, but it’s worth stating while i’m in a mood to state it at all. i’ll see you later

a poem (questionable)
it is a new feeling, this gap
this “i am one hundred miles away,
and i cannot take a hook to my ribs” 
moaning scrawlings remind me of what 
is missing but i cannot read them
and the weeds outside need weeding