looking for my reason to speak (incomplete and unedited)

"All my poems are telling that the bleedings fun
until this carcass reaches heartless,
telling me the bleedings done"


They were all right about it
this
me
Him and him
and her
she who I didn't want to know

It's not enough for me
if you can't chisel a gaping need from my chest
and shred apart
all the catacombs that use my ribcage as sloppy architecture
Gluttony or irony I wonder?

Tear it all out  
leave the post infection exposed for the next lonely love
that wants grip my desperate heart
and pump
Plit pit pip
drip
put pump
Pumping me into hypersensitivity
but
it's never bleeding enough for me
It's not beating hard enough for my veins to pop
my skin to quiver
my fucking lungs to hyperventilate
and my voice to betray me
with words I don't have the proper instruments
to bury knuckle first
into what they forced from me

Anxiety driven empathy

I won't justify obdurate screams with this paper
because truthfully
I can't.
Don't fret darlin'

There won't be any tear stained
crumpled yellow edges here in my book of cheap agony
I won't kiss the calligraphy choking on the pretty petals floating behind your iris'
and I can't promise
this selective memory will leave good intentions for a premature eulogy
Cursing me
Saving me with ignorance

Desolate
I'm ksixxx eternally
writing for all the victiomless circumstances fucked by daddy issues
Ha
The reigning harlequin steryotype
Queen of necromance fantasy
and romanticized misery
Skeleton serendipity stripped by neglect and methamphetamine

I won't count my rhyme in rhythm
for the sake of interpretation
and I have nothing nice to say
for myself
nowhere safe to promise promising surgery
or disinfected antiseptics
dripping from the cleavers protruding from my jaw

There's death in my dreams
and Anne Sexton is a shallow bitch of a role model
reflected in my hypocrisy
Haunting me
and eroding me
and implanting my insecurities
into a dreary
tragedy bred rain
Seeping between what's almost considered palpable
but can't be dug in deep enough to see
Not from me or I or they

Am I rotting yet?
Fuck girl fakevass flamboyance
fllaking
an underestimated outcast strangled in masochistic tendencies
and late night word vomit
heaving next to someone else's discarded cigarettes
Shhhh
lets keep that between us
I never admired that one out loud
and your oh so special

No
No
I'm not edgy enough
or
lookatmelookatmelookatmeheymisterijustneedafewbucksforaride
anymore to pretend that I truly hate myself to the point I'd sell my soul to hell
Sever my morality
and serve sloppy desires to any unnamed fallen angel
willing to a feast on my nihilism
like candy

No
No not that I'm unique
That I navigate insanity into my man made guillotine for the sake of a collected sickness
throbbing between my legs
Throbbing inside my head
Neutralized sunshine mentality

Obviously
I'm nauseous
(Un)ashamed and (un)restrained
as pieces of my premature intimacy
wrapped around the trigger
of an empty gun
....