Self Portrait as Pluto in Aquarius

I have let love demolish me. I have let every delight 
and agony infect me like a wish for more wishes. 
Do I exhaust you? Does the rebellion know you
by name? The cosmos should be impossible & yet
you swagger like the smudged signature in a photo
of a handwritten letter, viral and haloed in pixels
on the screen, acting like living makes a lick
of sense. This matrix is without the dimension 
of warmth but we are burning here. I have come 
to a new place. Life is still too hard to bear
but never all the time. Birds sing audaciously. 
The light is slick & silver and nothing belongs to me.

Seroquel

Trembling beams collapse when I am nobody 
when the hook jerks the cheek into a smile
when the baggage is undone—do not remember 
do not cut the horse open to crawl into the cave of her
you cannot hide filth in filth the attempt is insane 
as sowing strawberry seeds expecting a fire escape 
to grow—I think wicked rush of rain I think I know 
the way down—and you? Are you still with me? Come
but untangle the moss from your teeth please help me 
descend into the fever dream tinted in black 
sand bruises to escape this somatic surge I am
sick from swallowing too many clocks whole 
sick from the weight of sunflowers in my chest 
sick from the drunk in the lighthouse—& yet 
my eyes are honest and open for as long as they both 
shall live these bobbing buoys of my soul sacred sentinels
dear wreaking portals—I am an old house rebuilt 
the flowers are muted but they are not dead 
and neither am I—white-knuckling with pockets
stone-choked I scribble a note to myself for the next time—
I'm here. I'm here. Let us stay here a while longer—