Darkness says she’s not left-handed

Gentle ambition
lives among the fears 
of wasted breath. 
No sooner had I clung to
this revelation 
than the cliff stopped 
abruptly at the entrance
of my fall.

Honestly, rude. 


Do you ever wonder,
in a million voices
screaming at you;
why am I such a loser
piece of garbage?
And you know,
you know,
it’s coming from somewhere -
past, present,
Then you realize, 
it’s just one voice:
it’s just yours. 
Even as you write
you know
you know
you can never share this
because relatable trauma only,

h i h

Now and then?  
More like: 

all the time,


all at once. 

That sounds like
the most British thing 
I've heard.
The only thing, 
and you should be
Tell me how to get
and I swear to you,
by sould,
by blood,
by iron,
we leave. 

Well, did you find
a bowl or not?
Have you lost your mind?
Your head sloshes
full of soup.
Consider that,
your eye 
half eaten by the falcon,
Maggots wriggling about
the lens - 
have you no shame? 
Nothing to see here,
not since I lost my eye,
after all. 

Cheap talk

What does that even mean?
You cannot have your cake
and have it eaten too. 
It takes two to tango, 
and talk is cheap. 
So, I speak by the hour,
and pass collection 
when the hook penetrates
your soft, upper palate.