Sometimes I remember your damaged thighs, and I
wonder how many scars I added with my kisses.
The band aids I meant to lay never took hold. And sometimes,

I imagine you,
heaving up “I love you” into
the toilet bowl,
and crying as it spirals away
just like I did. And sometimes,

I hold that paper crane
You made me. From when you
took up origami to forget…

I told you I always steal the last piece of the puzzle.
I like to be the one to say when the fun ends.
This time I ran away with all the pieces. Too afraid
to fill the space.
to fit together,
like I was the missing piece to your puzzle.
Sometimes, I think about you. And—
I wonder if you think (the same things) about me too

(Source: thekillerclimax)

I have zero artistic ability, that’s the first thing you need to know. Secondly, I have a love of comic books and the grotesque. Thirdly, I like to write. Can you see where I’m going? I’m looking for someone to help me turn some short stories into possibly some killer comic books, possibly if the collection gets big enough a graphic novel/novella. If you draw and are interested, you should message me. Whatcha think?

Every time I see a dandelion that hasn’t flowered yet, I laugh because when I kick them I think of all the parts of me you threw to the wind.

I was told to get a nightlight to help chase away my fears, but all nightlights do is create shadows. I’m not trying to fight the monsters that lurk in the dark, on the creatures that roam free in my head.

I resolve that by the end of August, I will have my portfolio written and revised and that I will have submitted at least two short stories for publication.

What am I?
But a few bones
neatly package in skin,
held together by smart-ass
remarks, and—
the odd touch of sarcasm.

What am I?
But a head full of brain matter,
chalked full of empty ended thoughts,
confusion and built
with intellectual genius.

What am I?
But a writer,
stringing endless amounts
of words and rhymes together
for no reason other than – to
discover what I am.

(Source: thekillerclimax)

Sometimes I forget.
The power of my speech, and
my words fall heavy.
My tongue,
often used to cause pleasure
becomes like a whip
Lashing at your
Soft flesh. And –

sometimes I forget.
Not everyone has
replaced their skin,
with the hard coating
of an exoskeleton
for protection like me. 

Sometimes I forget.
That your words
are meant to be soft,
like light caresses from
fingertips on
lazy Sunday mornings.

Sometimes I forget.
That you’re not the reason
my skin has been replaced.
You did not force me to my knees.
You did not crack the whip.
You did not leave me with
little red reminders. 

Sometimes I forget.
That you’re the one
who applied pressure,
who stitched the skin
together.

Sometimes I forget. And –
Sometimes I pray I’ll remember
Before it’s too late.

(Source: thekillerclimax)

What is blood?
It is red.
It has types.
It has white cells, and
red cells.
We all bleed it — but,
what is blood?

Why do we treat it like cement? Or
like glue?
Like building blocks from the small
tower a child builds.
Why do we cherish it?
Give it more power than
just our life supply.
What is blood?

Why do we see it as connection?
The corner stones to family,
that great almighty source that
keeps up together.
It is not God!

Blood does not make a family.
I was denounced by blood,
Forgotten by blood,
Abandoned by blood.

So here I stand,
Leeches at the ready,
knives and tubs
ready to spill and collected
all the red that flows in these veins,
to give it to you
like communion –

Take from me what binds me
to you.
Take from me what makes
you family.
Take from me that last
of the Durochers.

Because like you abandoned me –
I shall abandon you.
What is blood?

(Source: thekillerclimax)

If you were an
illegal substance,
I could never be your
dealer. I would
hoard you to myself
keep others
from using and abusing
you like some have done in
the past.
If you were an
illegal substance
I would be the happiest
addict who ever lived.
I would fill my veins
with all of you,
until my blood was
replaced with pure ecstasy, and
my head swam.
If you were an
illegal substance
I would use you every day.
consume you, until we
were one.
Some people say
to just put a ring on it,
I say paper is never enough.