But hey!

At some point,

I would have to apologise

 for wearing my heart in my sleeve

and often be considered too nonchalant

for letting someone know what I feel

I may have to apologise

 for being incapable of hurt

and thus be considered inhuman 

but then, I have no tears left to breakdown with

I may have to apologise 

 for wanting things to be perfect

for those around, knowing my own past

though most would despise me for breaking their fall

I will come to know

 I have to apologise for being alive

for all I do is just try to ease lives

I do that cos death won't have me, and life doesn't like me around

My Tetrodotoxin

I imagine you  

but my heart imagines you differently

 you are the very invocation of primal fear

in me

willfully so, it courses through my veins

 knowing it will paralyse me

 suffocate, choke me

 and in that abundant pain

 I will remain awake

 what else can loving bring?

 Such is my fate

 or so I have come to accept 

so when you end me

 I shall relish it too, watch you

 not be able to blink

forget to breathe

swirl into the blackness

yearning to reach and touch your face 

when the last ounce of me ebbs 

 I shall wonder,

are there life on other planets?

and have the jars I filled for lactic fermentation matured,

what do those habaneros taste like, since they are six months old now

November?

November then

See you space cowboy

Progressive degeneration

Another Friday has passed

My thoughts of wanting to exist in this frame amongst madness fades

it seems to wish for a reckoning 

mostly of find a sane and painful way to end

next month, sometime midweek

once the paper work completes

 lets not string people and cast them to hell

 called bank work and insurance forms

and each day seems to bite

as of the boredom beast wasn't already perennially feasting on my soul 

these chaotic conjectures of people saying "things are going to get better" falls off like water on a duck's back

I have a frivolous relationship with life, never could get it 

it could never get me, both of us were distant even in what is purportedly termed happiness or hopelessness 

neither has stuck

neither would matter if it did ...

ho ho ho and a ha ha ha ...even

Heavens to Murgatroyd 

Sheepskins

and the print it has, irrelevant and its chase is insolence 

my will worse, insolvent 

And then Saturday will sit on my face 

worse, it stinks

I prefer it to not

either ways

after all consent is key, to weekends too

while you are still reasoning between that innuendo and whatever else you seem to think this is about

I have assumed half of sixty days are fair

seems more poetic too to say

Where was I?

Oh

to find an sane and painful way to exit

where did that idea go, I had stored it here somewhere

later

maybe

Disclaimers were offered

Here it is

Ethically sourced 

A fear from my mind

not a soul was hurt in crafting it

no governments were offended 

no border disputes occured

There were no slave children mining it

nor a widow was underpaid and forced to work making it

No illegal immigrants were needed

nor was it against the law

here it is

my fear

of existence

 amongst all that is you

 so tiny 

The darkness leaks from my fractured soul

Hemlock and barbiturate

is just like what this universe has made

love and longing

foolish desires and love's charade

towards... then

like saving my food from monkeys

and they are a hundred, hungry and in rage

and starvation arrives, in a bloody serenade

but... you

Walk in on me, in abject desperation

intoxicated on the want and need for your reaching

and then I find my own shadows to hide in

thinking of killing myself, before your leaving will

for... I

am in absolution, in dread, and  avoiding delusion

as my heart winks at me, to rile

these years of life, have run its course

I cower, sleep, hope to never wake from my sleep

but.. no

I will never accept peace, and you are the chaos

I was so, I have seen the universe too

The mediocrity of life is my shame now

here I am, writing poetry on that somehow

But, me

When you are me, everything with me dies organically
Some I help tune out, others tune out themselves
Between wanting to be someone and my life’s inadequacy
I let things be, I let everything be free

When love arrives, I prefer to let it slip by comfortably
When confronted, I choose peace
Between being what I can and what I must be
I choose to just remain wherever I am supposed to be

I fly, shimmering, my lofty iridescent purple feathers
I perch on gargoyles, look at dead, unswaying trees
Between death and resignation of myself
I mock the sun as it tries to burn my wings

I see you have found my nesting spot somehow
I find another where I can be me
Between the performance and dress-up
I relinquish my need for your eyes on me

Doesn't warrant a title

April has gone by, 

  and left me questions 

 of my insanity

  that believes I could be human

I won't be, I will always fail

The mango ginger plants are dying

 I sit on a tile where my dearest dog died

 I search for meaning in a folly

 that the universe seems to toss at me

and 

 truth is just being a bitch right now

I know it hurts

 my hurt spews laughter

  unlike tears

   this mask

     I wore long before I wore a suit and tie

 Those were terrible times

  weak

    and wishing for death

and now

 death doesn't come

  it fails me

    Love seems to being more

       deathwishes

I do not fight

 for my derangement is total

  all forms of me wish for a violent end

     preferably dressed in violet

       playing a violin, I hate violins 

   and then

 such thoughts

 of being something someone can hold on to

Sacrilege 

  heracy and such

But I respond with

 "Hey, how can I help ?"