I Prefer Not To.
another day
another chance
to wallow
in this hollow
fetid shell
another dance
amid the fallout
of this self
constructed hell
forever burdened
by this curse
immersed in faded
aquarelle
ever is this
burgeoning dearth
fated
until i am
felled
You can’t
give
Up
On life
And place
The responsibility
Of your
Existence
On another
I can
Cook
For you
But
I can’t
Eat
For you
You can’t
Call me
Murderer
Because
I can’t
Live
Your life
For you
How could you
How can I
We can’t
I stay up too late
Never get enough rest
But I don’t give a fuck
Give me all
Of the salt and butter
Sugar and fat
It doesn’t mean shit to me
Fill me up with pills
Pills pills pills pillls
Pills
I need to stop
Existing
I will fuck everything up
Beyond that which seems humanly possible
I amaze myself at times
Others would be amazed too
If they knew
How much I loved you
when the hour fell bleak
a rippling spied
the outlier
appearing
in ragged reproach
an artifact without
precedence
that spoke of adoration
dire
ere a doting hope
sang
its parting prelude
from where i now sit
in a cold eclipse
of dreariness
laced
with mistled tears
spent aloft
these long planes
of bondage
i fondly resigned
my mind’s production
flashing its garish marquee
for all to see
foreshadowing
disparity profound
were it not sustained
by wispy druids
of pigment piqued
no further
query
averted eyes
trained vigilant
this chronicle
of maddened youth
swore your rigid head
invalid
with never more
truth
scorned a lustful red
as prideful irony
now reigns
in the void
of expectation
I come
from a long
line
of cocaine
chains
and painted
rainbows
tainted aims
and hijacked
reins
that taunt me
with their wonton ways
led by tinted
saints
whose patronizing
love
would one day fade
in truth betrayed
through time’s display
were
all things ventured
for naught gained
save this dull pain
that e’er remains
to haunt me
in her silent
shades
shadows crept
the length
of disquietude
distilled
in the wonder
of our willful dearth
lumbering
through morass
when last we plundered
this scorching earth
she blindly scrawled
three bold runes
that burn yet
still
within
this piteous pith
of tormented ruin
immune
to time’s retelling
they rave and revel
in a rogue reminisce
i bear
your cross
in the frost-addled agony
of anhedonia
adrift
in discrepant lucidity
of dolent disrepair
its wintry sermon
inhabits
my every haunt
taunting
my inhibition
intently
transmuting
this glacial divide
thawing
with haste
forestially untethering
each stinging tie
to a mind
once sound
amid desecrated ruin
of barren thought
echoes
sing
your goodbye
still
i hold on
to a memory
I had
never known
far too long
as these stolen
hours come
to light
and life
knocks me back
down
where the screams
of windswept dreams
give way
to muted
mountains
of martyrdom
Max, or Not 
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