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crush my love into flowers

the ice box flows inconsiderate

sable soul towards the augments

you sicken the heart to glass

thick or thin mint sadist thrill

to fill the piggy in the mirror

a cruel monthly washing hands

soap won’t skin this retardant

blaming flagrance in the flames

own the chest of heart breaks

primp the purity in a head rest

quake to the lymph nodes eroding

soak the blood satin shivering

a boy unseeded by the vapors

rage of loops engaging the real

average dressing the weaker ring

peals come off once undone

shed my meat for a reduction

move me to less than from plus

moil the rest of the world away

i darken my lot and suck on it

crestless cracks to avoidance

forget hot lights in the room

biggest empty to remembrance

changes eat branches arthritic

feet cringe with an ambient melt

loveless cuts a song in tune

famous envelope pursuing me

catch a date in a whirring move

my doom is vehemently a crush.

(C)2011 Christopher E. Vaughn


About Christopher Vaughn

Born in Allentown, Pennsylvania in 1971 and moved all over the world as a military brat, my first venture into writing occurred in my heart early in childhood when I became obsessed with science fiction books by Jules Verne, Dan O Bannen, Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury. It was early elementary school when I discovered Robert Frost and his pen struck me. I was wanting to be in the worlds he painted. After several honors English classes and more obsessive reading of Madeleine L'Engle and Stephen King, I knew writing was a calling. In the 80's I was also enamored with electronic bands Depeche Mode and Front 242 and seminal bands like Skinny Puppy and Click Click which influenced my writing as well. In the 90's I was transformed when I discovered Clive Barker, he was the total package. Artist, Painter, Sculptor, Writer, Poet, Director...I became a survivalist writer. A term I coined by the nature of writing through feeling...letting go of the negative and hurt. Which if you are a poet, is what you do. It's not all just about creative churning. It's letting out what you feel inside of you. I continue to write poetry, short stories and lyrics to survive...

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