on eves

of the full moon

i’m terrifed to fall asleep-

what if i never wake-

never again:

a drunk cig with the gang

park & album dates

trash-talked games with my brother-

last thing i ate, was grilled chicken-

do i even need to diet??

i want a steak with salt fries

to share a sundae

to have a street dog after dancing

to feel the sun

one more time-

please-

i want-

i want to keep wanting.

want to- cut the excuses

write the book

sing loud and proud

love each day like the last

what if-

i never get to tell you-

i’m sorry.

just so you know,

i love you-

i still see your silver necklace

wrapped around your polished neck.

i messed up

i was in my head,

i couldn’t silence-

the inner monster

that craves

to destroy.

my inner demon holds me tight

making me watch

coaxing the howl

shutters closed tight

jaw wired bite

no windows in sight

coarse pelt brushes

my motionless skin-

what if-

what if

this is the last night

under a starless moon.

i don’t want to believe her,

yet

i crave her poison

sweet sweet

poison.

teeth sink-

into my lips

blood gushes-

to the surface-

immobilized

in her gaze.

her talons rake

my skull-

gods were warned

to flee:

her quarry

pinned

gasping

for her

she moans

her verse

shrouded

in silver mist

ropes strung high

and

low-

a huntress

stalking

& i

in her arrows

tip

leaky pipe

dripping

into a metal bucket

lights flickering

humm

pop

drip

closing in, a children’s song echo

through crumbling walls:

ring

around

the roooosiee

humm

pop

drip

an older lady propped

outside her apartment

flicking a lighter

shaky death stick

the light and a sweet sizzle

h

p

d

triple shift lethargy

feeble gripping keys

sweaty open palms

grasping folding walls

slipping

h

d

p

ring

around

the

rooo

si

last

heat of the season-

trust your training~

finish line

waves in a mirage

cameras panning

around the crowd

& racers-

a mix of sweat and water

dripping, sizzling on the scorched track.

Ladies & gentlemen, w are about to being

the main event!

one more win

one more

trust your training~

This is

WAC Men’s 100-meter dash

finals!

worn runners kiss the starting block

daggers at #6

flex at #4

trust your training~

finger dig rubber

crowd screams silent

white lines

pistol-

Fault!

#4-

water bottles scattered-

trust your training~

howling

to the sun across

trust your training~

prying lenses-

towel over his head

resting on his coaches chest-

trust your

training~

crowd silent

block to the left

empty

white lines

pistol

smeared paint on the bathroom mirror

red and green hand prints stained,

porcelain’s melting embrace

rattled limbs.

the hallway’s axis

flipped

bedroom stripped of spirit

hangers guarded the carpet

cracked boxes

deserted nightstand

bare picture frames

except one

faced down

ours.

–

stumble fumble tumble

fresh slippery floor

let the inside rain

fall

–

by the time sun shrinks from the blinds

nothing but an empty wrist

a clock ticks further down

halfheartedly.

–

kitchen, doors left ajar

all pots

no lids.

the foyer-

ravaged,

nothing but the furniture,

and there,

a plum purple washcloth,

scent of

lavender

–

and

–

coconut.

–

clenched in a grip

swung the front door

and walked.

hear ye hear ye!

go

embrace our champion, ser Christian

dazzle his soles with roses

with your affection!

oh ser Christian, you are so strong

held the young and needy

by the skin of their throats,

Deus Vult!

oh champion, you are so wise

disturbed endless prayers

set torches to their churches,

Deus Vult!

oh champion, you are so brave

crossed with unarmed peasants

constructed a river of their blood,

Deus Vult!

praise thee praise thee, champion

oh ser Christian!

protect these lands!

Deus Vult!