A Taste of that Angst

Untitled 

my body is a vessel for misery
i hold sadness in my bones
and pain in my lower back;
i search for balance
like the scales that are my birthright,
or the push and pull
of the ocean tides
which I seem to identify with
so readily
when I stand on the shores
back home and listen
to the saddest notes
the natural world has to offer
my body is the basin of the
deepest sea,
where darkness and
ugliness lie,
if your definition of ugly
is intricacy and complication
and things that should not exist,
like thorns and spikes and spires
that protect matter of such a
fragile beauty
like a thin skeleton
or a soft, pulsing heart
my body is heavy like a rain cloud
full of dark, crackling tension
and sparks
so unpredictable you never know
when
      I
           will
strike
or where my rain will fall
in heavy droplets
covering barren and parched ground,
but too much,
so that it saturates and drowns
all the innocent, living
but what is innocent on this
darkening plain
from up in the sky
you all look so small
but I know I am one of you
part of you
I am you
and so I weep
and ache from feeling everything too much
my body is a vessel for misery
I hold sadness deep in my bones
and anguish in my lower back
Infinite Embrace
I get lost
in thoughts
of you and I
of being held
by your arms
embraced and bathed
in your presence around meI can feel your mouth brush
against my temple
and I smile
and breathe in
every beautiful
fluttering
emotion you
so undoubtedly cause
in meI imagine turning
my head and
twisting
my body
to your
direction
just so I can
pull myself up to
kiss, so lightly,
your neck
just to feel
your warmth
to feel the life
blood beating
beneath the
membranes of that
tough skinand I linger there
my mouth gently
against your neck
eyes closed,
I can smell your warmth
and as I pull back

I can look into your
face just waking up
from the beautiful dream
that is our reality
where the cosmos stop
simply to watch us
embrace
Just a Dream
being away from you
doesn’t feel worth it
I confess
I was just driving
and going off the side,
the impact,
sudden–
end–
didn’t seem so bad,
scary,
but for a moment only
the thought
of you
holds me back from
the slow syrupy way
I feel like death would be
just an extension of
life
it must be
just like waking
from some sort of
dream
I would still see you
wouldn’t I
still hear frank sing me
softly to sleep
the music must transcend
just like love
your love
the feeling that keeps me grounded
because without others
when in the presence of only
my lonely lonely self
nothing holds me down
holds me back
except for never being able
to see your face again
or touch your skin again
but it’s too far right now
and I’m alone right now
and  just one move
and I
could
wake
The Consequences of Eavesdropping 
Oh, the fault is all my own,
as if a “relationship” doesn’t go both ways–
Just because you’re omnipotent doesn’t mean
you don’t have to uphold your end of the bargain;
or, at least,
that is what I think,
but perhaps I am wrong
and just as messed up as my
parents fervent prayers
whispered in the dark spaces of the
night suggest.
Maybe it is my fault
and only mine
for becoming apparently apathetic,
and not feeling guilty,
and for being
depressed and
sad and
hopeless and,
no, not hopeless;
I am still hopeful.
I still have joy.
I still have love
and mercy
and grace
and compassion
and I still see beauty
in the sunset,
in his smile,
in her eyes,
in myself;
and that’s even after I left,
got lost,
wandered,
strayed,
was let down,
by the god who about too much is said.
So how can I ever know
any truth
but my own?
But the fact that I am
alive;
that there is beauty
and connection
and balance
and love, and that all that
doesn’t solely depend on
the existence of Abraham’s retribution loving
father.
Oh, did you ever think that
when i overheard your mutterings,
that it would break my heart,
but not because I felt
“pricked by guilt at my sins”,
but because you think that
I am doomed to that hellfire
and weeping induced by
that prince of darkness who sincerely
relishes the fact that I listen to
rap music by other
just-as-disillusioned twenty-year-olds,
and that I cannot find joy
and peace
and love
in anything but blind faith
in a father who, if he is there,
I could never even hope to leave.
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