I Am Forgotten Emotions.

A sacrifice in the park

to the pigs with their guns

searching boys in the dark, I beg forgiveness for you—

you are sent home;

meanwhile, I am jailed over and over,

spending a night of Police harassment with a head full of acid,

each time you slide your access card

to the places where you

wouldn’t be allowed in otherwise.

I am your forgotten emotions.

Now you, that first lover,

I am the pain in your heart—

those scars left behind from a series of kisses,

a gentle touch, the words I love you are

over and over, carved inside its walls

reminding you of the sacrifice we made

in order to keep your youthful allowances,

each day I wonder, was it worth it?

I am our forgotten emotions.

I carry the numb places in your memory

where once shone the abscesses of childhood trauma

which removed and dissected for you

keeping you sane through hell and back,

are then swallowed and absorbed in this psychic

vessel, burrowed to purify deep inside.

I am your forgotten emotions, watch them as we bloom.

I’m here to remind you,

you, the one with the pedigree,

that I remember how you walked up to the bar

during our friends birthday party, you were dressed

like the beautiful whore we all know you are,

flirted with me, then said “Gosh, I’m mean!” giggling to yourself,

walking away laughing, I was a joke to you,

but I never laughed—

when your story was something to listen to,

when my shoulder was all I had to offer you,

and your broken heart was all I meant to mend.

I am your forgotten emultion.

I am the nexus of abhorrence, your loathing,

something to talk about over a beer—

another one of the horrible people,

keeping your friendships glued together,

kindling for your hatred,

when you can’t talk shit about one another

in fear that in turn each will know the truth,

you, with the faces like revolving doors.

This is for you.

To each and every one of you—

I am the louse in the corner,

the weirdo in black,

the one you’ve all turned to when no one would listen!

Look here, don’t advert your eyes,

I am here to remind you

that once your emotions were real,

not make believe, nor shadows of their former selves.

I am the luxury of forgetting

passed around a table

full of empty rotating faces

all stuck drinking from bottomless places.

but now I am no more for you or any of them,

you’ll have to face the truth of each other,

Adieu.

I am a Black Star

I was born the day you died,
thirty one years ago—
I was reborn when you died,
yesterday mourning.
It all started eighteen months ago:
our slow death.

I Bow to you, master smith of universes,
Mighty Goblin Disco King.
You pass the torch on to the world
waiting for the next Black Star to shine,
we are many, a legion of your children
all awoken by the changes in your persona
arranged movements of your beauty
all spoken, sung, made into discourse
of falling walls, bullies pushing,
drugged out evenings, dancing china queens.

I breathe, because I once saw the light which took you,
it said that it would be hard
it said it would be difficult
yet I know it was love which spoke to me,
it was love you went towards,
it is where we all go,
Us, Black Stars.