poems

experience

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

He acts like he’s nervous,
he could not stammer, “n-n-no, w-h-a-a…wait!”
Kiss the dull sides of his flesh, such I want to cut into the fuck?

this experience kills

The stakes are in killing,
such are his cheeks, “go ahead and danger.”
The balance of his tongue is careful power.

this experience kills the intimacy

The explosive crack of pulling out,
the attack to the jugular is sharp and in love. “I see you.”
The dull side is flush with domination.

this experience kills the intimacy of sex

He jerks back on the object of his sex
and affection for conflict, “Cry boy. Cry.”
I only submit to submit when I can’t conflate intimacy with this matter.

intimacy is sex into the skin

I insert the explosive crack of affection
I can’t help convulsing to the torture, “Suck my pocket, then could I stop, boy?”
He complies, still reeling in the distance, it keeps him completely.

this experience

afternoon

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

You should just find yourself drifting from the afternoon. I needed you. Its not me. I hear you like someone else said it. I only imagined saying it. She will frighten me again deeply.

My vision has dropped into long cries under the ground. I only imagined saying she’s sorry. I think it was fated that you would push us together, or it’s just your mouth. I stumble backward in a lie.

When I think of aggression, I mask it in my own mumbling, naked from the rest of the energy that is sweat. You say “look up here” and pull me up on her arms. You have no idea why I want to laugh quietly, nervously just before I feel a twinge of energy — that or tears.

The top of my tongue is precious on your face, close to see down into your hands. You grab your own jealousy when you look at my hips. I still have no idea how much you understand.

“Maybe she is resting on the last time you want?” You come into her breathless, wanting body.

Maybe she knows how much longer you’ve felt a deeper pain from the shape of energy that is in my sweat. Tell me if you’ve told her with your boots on her lips and my eyes. I feel your lives. I touch you. I want to be there. When she comes she’s telling of fear in the pitch of jealousy at all so soft and somewhat awkwardly, and open. She is part of him.

I see that brings tears to come back. So I do you through me.

I resist the afternoon. It’s completely absurd.

seized

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

I’ve never been clearer than my sweat. Remove the base of thinking and exchange, all that the other person feels. I think I know you in this moment, as if it’s cute with my hands tied to the floor, unable resist the affection taking place inside me.

You victim of love,
your fits of distance.

I’ll carry my own realist when
I can’t bring myself to use you so well.

I’ll carry these beliefs wrapped in shells
shoved deep into the elements of my pockets.

The walls of his body are seized with drones. He’s gagging on the physical, emotionally-charged struggle between fucking and eating as he spits possibility in my face. Power inequalities are not based on the dull sides of his flesh, they are based in his mouth.

I think you, you, you..
vulnerability scares your selves.

Have you had enough of me yet?

I have enough to keep him,
his hand is flush to my head,
my head is flush to the floor

Survive! (if it’s not a trigger
in his hand
on my head)

A soldier will protect his throat from any real cries of empathy. I take discomfort in not letting go of thinking of violent experiences.

severe

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

I will own, or I will sever
My body runs the line

He prefers people as objects, resources of distance
The victim is hiding something
Submit to protect his heart

“Go ahead and let go to try to want affection”

I don’t.

I try to return the haunting familiarity of intimacy. I feel strange.
I confuse love with combat
I am not seeing it makes me he

“Who was the victim here, the wall?”

It wasn’t.

I can’t bring myself to,
He freezes me

stuck

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

I clean him, wash his hair from the vomit of killing,
he starts to kill .
So I find myself in the ultimate taboo,
holding it now,
grateful to those who will die after

I move away from the victim here,
no matter .
He can’t grasp the lost grip on his face,
no accident, pure violence,
I can’t bring myself to

I lost my keyboard, writing it out with fluid onto the floor,
equilibrium .
I find myself lost in the grip of possibility
of a different world,
a trigger about

I delicately exchange narrative for the inevitable,
let go .
I can’t grasp the lost grip on love,
manipulation,
only opportunities to get caught on

Back in self-protection mode,
he stumbles  .
He finds himself in the ultimate taboo,
the silent death in my eyes,
no empathy such as longing for

box

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

Open your dissertation,
(which is certainly uncertainty about killing,
which is probably one reason the narrative arch … )
Stretches from my hands
Lie still enough
Face harder
Push into the stakes
Streaming down my torso
Honor the room

My mind is my only open airway,
(which is certainly uncertain about being seen,
which is probably one reason the narrative arch … )
Leaks out of my mouth
Gagging long enough
Breathe harder
Push into the pain
Streaming down my legs
Honor the sky

lost

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

who is..
where is…

what happened to your sex?
is it in the bathroom, the bathtub?
did you drop it into the toilet?
did it get sucked down the drain?

or is it still sleeping entangled in the bedsheets
while you left for work in the morning?
with socks lost to the laundry,
on the kitchen counter,
or in a bag in a drawer for safekeeping?

Did you ask someone to hold it for you,
and then they ran off?

Was it removed by a doctor,
as an anomaly?

When its taken from you
its hard to remember

Maybe mine is in the car with bad breaks
in the ruins of a New England mill
lying in the tall grass next to the river

Or gathering dust in the teacher’s closet
behind the dugout
caught in drag in a bridesmaid dress

You search frantic
sweating
pounding
wanting

for what you misplaced
fearing it is gone

And then you realize
he took it from you
he lost it when
he misplaced his own

bomb

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

i see the fear in your eyes
you know i could go off
at any fucking minute

my head is filled with the knowledge
of what you cannot admit to yourself

my body is filled with the damage
of what you cannot bear within yourself

hide away
lock the door
look through me
pretend I’m not here

you can’t just place your pain in me
then send me off
and wish me well

i used to believe you
i was unlovable
a wreck
a damage
everything vile

i saw myself in your eyes
i was danger
a bomb
a shame
everything evil

fuck you
i will speak
but never against you
and never against my own heart

autorumination

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

My phone is so cute
And I don’t know how to do

I’m not going to be able to see you

The fact that I can see you
The only thing that would make me happy

But it was not immediately available to be

I’m not sure what to say
The fact is that it would mean the world to see

Tell me what to say
Tell me how to get
Tell me that you can

Tell meh

Tell her
Tell him
Tell me

How to do it again
C. C … and I don’t know if you want me

Do you think
Do you know
Do you have

The only this is that is it not the only thing

I can be used for the next few years ago
when
I was just thinking about you
and your family and I love you so bad
I don’t think that it would be nice to see you
bb.bb. at all

I don’t think
I don’t know
I don’t have

My phone is so much better than this one
w/wv. v was injured in the morning

I’m not going to be the best thing about …

I’m not going to be able too
I’m not going to get my nails
I’m not going to get my phone
I’m not going anywhere else

You can get the best
You can get it together
You can get the same
You can get a new phone

Your phone is so good
at all the best ways to go back home

and you can be used for the
rest of the day
before I can be used for the
rest of the year

B&b. B, beforethat it would have
a lot to be/me
the same thing
as two

Two years
Two years ago
Two years later

Two years of my friends
Two years of my life
Two years of my favorite song

Two years of my favorite thing about being
able to see you

Soon
Soon after
Soon as I have a lot more than the original of my life

Until then
Until the end
B. Until the end of this

Until then I’m not going
to be able to see you

necessary

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

I didn’t know anyone could hear me
write a riddle
design a game
study, advance, retreat

I didn’t know I could speak
learn a language
you speak me

I’m digging it up
crack weeds at the root
be taboo, say it provocative

I’m tending to my wounds
open yours
break me apart at the seams

My guts are spilling out around you
its ok
i’m fine

give me violence, give me sex
Let me feel you

I’m silent and you’re listening
your tender fingers trace the surface of my walls
your cheek is pressing against my glass heart

I’m digging to loosen all the ground
my spade could split you in two
my sex would penetrate your heart

tend to me, hold me
please
Please