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    King of Iron Hearts

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    I felt like a penny

      Picked up, rubbed clean, and then used

      To make a wish for something more.

      Why did you have to change the way

      You loved me?

      Because you wanted to be best?

      Closer?

      More secure?

      Why did you have to change the way

      You spoke to me?

      Because I couldn’t love you back the way

      You wanted?

      And it made you bitter

      Turned you toxic?

      Why did you have to change the way

      You touched me?

      The hand once around my shoulder sliding

      Down the crease of my inner thigh

      Pulling me close when you should be pushing me away

      Because now your lust was in our way

      Why did you have to change the way

      You loved me?

      Because now,

      It is impossible for me to love you back.

      It is its own kind of miracle

      How someone can look at you

      Like you have hung the silver moon

      In the velvet sky of their most luxurious dreams

      One moment

      And

      The next

      They never want to see you

      Again

      Romance novels made me an insomniac

      I waited by the phone in the darkest hours

      Held my breath until the silence mocked me

      And the emptiness of the room without you

      Began to echo

      Overripe with love

      You fall from the limb

      Too ready

      Too willing to be had

      You break open on the ground

      Only food for the flies

      You were moonlit sonatas

      And the stars in the sky

      We were young and hopeless with wishes tied to clouds

      Like children’s balloons

      We didn’t know they were so

      Fragile

      That close to the heavens

      We didn’t know

      That even stardust could rust over time

      Anything for love

      They say

      Let that count for love of self too

      If your soul cries out for it

      It’s not selfish

      It’s sustenance

      Don’t settle for friendship

      When you need love

      Don’t settle for sometimes

      When you deserve someone’s always

      You have the worth you give yourself

      Your worth is not measured by the angle of your hips

      And the gap between your thighs

      In the weight of your breasts

      And the breadth of your smile.

      It’s hidden shyly in the corners of your face

      For few to find.

      A flower safe guarded in the middle

      Of a book you have to study

      Before you find the prize.

      The true currency of your glamour.

      Sometimes a person’s got a soul so pretty

      It makes them glow prettier than anything else.

      Lust is no true substitute for pure care.

      I have an entire galaxy in my soul

      And you have only landed on the moon

      Do not think

      Because you can see my stars

      That you have earned the right to colonize them

      You pushed and pulled

      Breaking apart an old house

      Thinking you wanted what was in it

      All the baggage you thought was treasure

      Finally

      The boards cracked under your pressure

      And I broke open

      Just the way you wanted

      Exactly what you worked for

      All my secrets

      And my troubles

      My old house aches and pains

      At your feet for you to pilfer.

      We didn’t speak after that.

      There is a black hole at the center of every universe.

      It yawns

      Stretches

      And contracts

      But it is constant

      Ever hungry.

      So,

      You feed it.

      Sweet bursts of sugar

      Deep draughts of the finest wine.

      You fill it with vicious violence and

      Blood red rage

      With sex and sinning

      Envy and greed.

      It eats

      And eats

      Everything you give it

      But sometimes

      The right times

      All it takes is a mirror to prop before it

      And it doesn’t seem so depthless after all.

      What do you feed your demons?

      Remember

      It is you who makes a lie come alive.

      Someone need only sow the seed

      In the fertile field of your mind

      Where they might watch it take root

      In your insecurities

      Flourish under the drizzle of your fears

      And blossom in the sunny belief you hold

      For anyone who lets you love them.

      This is how a lie takes hold.

      There are not enough love letters about friendship

      How it feels to know you have a home

      Inside the heart of another being

      They are the kerchief for your tears

      The arms around your shaking shoulders

      The hands that help carry your burdens

      There are not enough love letters about friendship

      Yet they suffer the same betrayals

      And there is nothing as brutal as a knife in the back

      From a person you trusted with all your pain

      I’ve found

      That the worst monsters

      Have the prettiest faces

      The art of deception.

      His laugh was bitter and sharp with hate

      I swallowed it down like hemlock

      And wondered how long it would take

      I have an encyclopedic knowledge

      Of all your flaws

      I ripped out the pages

      Of things to love

      Verbs of worship and nouns that rhyme

      With your name

      I burned the edges of the Holy Bible

      Because you once told me

      God wasn’t as important as our love

      And in the end,

      It was the biggest lie you ever told

      Love looks best on you

      But honestly,

      Hate is pretty too.

      She tends to her anger like a garden

      Waters the earth with her hot salt tears

      So that only red flowers can bloom

      Poppies to commemorate a violent death

      Of something she once held so dear

      Digs up the weeds with her bare hands

      And bleeding broken nails

      So that her skin is stained just as dark

      As the bruises she secrets away on her heart

      She tends to her garden of ivy and wrath

      Like a groundskeeper

      For an estate of eternal hate

      The Midas of death

      I turn everything I touch to ash

      All the beautiful thins reduced to soot beneath my fingernails

      But

      Still I reach for that golden thing

      That indelible light of life

      Even knowing

      The press of one finger

      Will blow it all to smoke.

      No one ever speaks

      About the heartbreak

      Of shattering another’s dreams

      Of taking the love they have for you

      And stamping it

      Cannot be delivered.

      Return to sender.

      Just because I am the one that broke

      Your heart

      It does not mean

      I didn’t rip off a little
    piece of my soul

      In the process

      The break up.

      Is there beauty in ashes?

      Because I am razed to the ground

      Burnt up by my own flames

      An arsonist

      With a self-fulfilling destiny

      Who knew love could be so toxic?

      That the flames they spoke of wouldn’t set my heart on fire or heat my groin like warm coals.

      That instead it would eat me up to ash like lit paper

      Until I crumbled into dust.

      Yes, she hurts me

      She knows I love her because I bleed for her whenever she needs proof

      She knows because I fight for her even against myself

      She knows because I fell in love with her at eight and never stopped

      But the cruel agony of life

      Is that I will never know for sure

      How much she loves me back

      Because no one ever taught her how

      Or gave her the courage to try.

      Sometimes love stories don’t work out.

      I stood in a pool of blood

      At the scene of my heartbreak

      And wondered if the blue and red lights

      Flashing across the carnage

      Could make sense of the sorrow

      That brutalized my chest

      As wide and gory as a rifle shot wound.

      Would they itemize the reasons?

      Surmise the motive

      And write a report

      So succinct

      I would read it and

      Not feel the horror of those events

      Again in my heart?

      The police work of therapy.

      They say opposites attract

      But what if

      We really are polar opposites?

      If our currents run at perpendicular angles and our frequencies on different channels

      What if we want to love each other

      But the Law of Physics disproves it?

      Our bodies were magnetic

      The energy between our skin

      Was so strong

      We couldn’t bear to be apart

      But our hearts were polarized

      Too contrary to coexist

      So even when our bodies collided

      Our souls could never connect

      She was whelved so deeply in the tissues and chambers of my heart it took me years to find her

      And by then it was too late.

      All her life

      You planted flowers under her skin

      A poppy on her throat

      Handfuls of peonies across her hips

      A tropical paradise warm and wet

      At her core

      You planted lust and desire in blooms

      And plumes of green leaves

      All over her body

      You planted a garden in her heart

      But didn’t stop to watch it grow

      Or smell the flowers as you passed

      That blossomed just for you

      Seasons of the heart.

      To watch them was to know

      That two souls could be perfectly matched

      Harmoniously in tune

      Seamlessly entangled

      And somehow

      Never know it

      You dropped me

      But I wanted to snap back

      Like a yo-yo

      Into your hand

      Even if it meant

      You would drop me

      Again

      I fought for my fairytale

      And in the end

      My prince was the villain

      And I was a hero

      Corners meet

      Dark nesting in their folds

      Harbouring the fragile glow of a woman

      And I ask you then,

      How do you see me?

      As a creature of the moon

      Refracting a light not lost

      But glimmering

      A soft broken piece of ancient clay

      Submerged in burning fluid

      That eats with tearing teeth at flesh and thought

      Until

      I sit a creature of the moon disowned

      In human sin

      Do you know me as a little lady?

      With milk froth of petticoats

      Stained by rusty human oil

      Doll hands clutching

      To the broken fingers of grace

      Stunted growth now curling over like spoiled time

      In shame

      Know me as the little lady fallen off

      A high sharp shoe

      Would you want me as a naked woman lies?

      Curving broken back to arch

      Groaning desperate desire

      From a throat painted with crimson lines

      Of your love

      Tasting like honeyed cream

      Without the blemish of tattooed bluebells and overripe plums

      Want me as I lay a woman

      Exposed lines folds and hand holds

      Not as naked as you’d like

      Could you love me as I am?

      Like a soft child’s lullaby of

      Glimmering shimmering gold

      Like a masterful David to look at and lust

      But only wonder at in gentle curiosity

      As not the naked woman lies

      As not the little lady knows

      As not the creature of the moon

      But more a person of her own

      Then how do you see me?

      As I crouch in a corner of shadow’s nest

      Licking and lapping at metallic red to

      Stop the human oil slick

      And soothe the sore lace torn flesh

      Back curved in not lust for you

      But pain

      How do you see me now, my love?

      Street poetry

      Written in graffiti and waste

      One man’s garbage is another’s taste

      The art of being thrown away.

      I couldn’t have you so

      We stopped speaking.

      I couldn’t avoid you so

      I moved to another country.

      I couldn’t forget you so

      I married another woman

      Dreamt of you each night

      And woke up with her each morning.

      I couldn’t have you yet

      Even across all that ocean

      With all that time between us

      And me

      I was still doomed to love you.

      A wish is a seed

      Something to plant and germinate

      Something to nurture and grow

      They teach you in grade school

      Water, sunshine, soil

      And poof

      A plant

      I thought hope was like that

      Love was like that

      And while I had the seed to sow

      You gave me nothing to feed it

      I am a fallow field.

      I kept waiting for all the dirt and rain

      Of my life

      To blossom into flowers

      But I guess

      Sometimes

      Dirt is just grime

      And rain just falls

      So many men try to drown their misery at the bottom

      Of a bottle.

      Why don’t they try to drown it in the rain?

      Or trap it in prose at the bottom of that bottle

      And drown it in the sea.

      The natural remedy for all maladies.

      Definition:

      Increase the stakes, especially in times of dispute or conflict.

      I don’t want to be the phoenix

      I want to be the serpent

      The snake is not

      The sly evil thing in the grass

      Of Eden’s garden

      It is the serpent

      A healer and fertile harbinger

      The two twisted heads on the staff of Hermes

      The serpent is the middle of black and white

      The dual expression of good and evil

      The ser
    pent does not die and is reborn anew

      The serpent evolves, changes, and grows

      Shedding the skin of the past but retaining the memory

      So that when it slithers forward it does it wise

      She was sharp as a heart attack

      A woman in need of sacrifice

      And reverence

      Who understood her worth

      And demanded payment

      For her venerable affections

      I capitulated to the fury of her need

      Cut my heart out of my chest with her dagger

      Rusty with old blood

      The stain of other lovers

      Who had failed to fill her greed

      I handed it to her

      Still beating

      Thumping against the silver platter

      Like a war drum

      She looked me in the eye as she took it

      In one pale hand

      Raised it to her lips and licked the aorta

      Until it throbbed

      “I will consume you whole.”

      She promised.

      The man is the sacrificial lamb in this one.

      I slayed my demons

      With my bare hands

      Stuffed the heads

      And mounted them on my wall

     

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