The Unconditional

By atm.itm

I. 

alw-ays try your best 

your best will be your worst 

will wash you down 

with rum and coke

with gas 

trapped in your gut 

you are fearful

as the spider 

who knew his mother

died 

no longer feel for present 

or yearn a future 

you are in love

with a day so perfect

it does exist 

yet you breathe in 

hot stagnant air on a rooftop 

holding in while

white woman cat-cows

then tells you to breathe 

out

sunday meditation 

was fasting from food

mirrors

and your voice 

for 5 hours 

you start speaking to yourself 

which isn’t less lonely 

nothing about today was bad

which didn’t make it more appetizing

the mind and body rarely 

feast on the good 

just try 

believe it to be different 

decompose usefully 

make compost 

maybe 

love can be more than ants 

crowding over crumbs 

maybe 

it is a fig tree

too tall to reach 

too far to eat 

to watch it shrivel 

in the heat 

your worst will be your best 

he wasn’t a demon 

but he conjured up your cums four times 

and made it worth crying 

while he slept

maybe 

love was meant to be a scream 

lying on your back 

maybe

it’s a large mass sweating over you 

looking confused 

and strained 

it tastes tart and salty 

our baby bird mouths won’t close 

what else would one live off of

just try 

II.

unrequited is 

one	wanting
two	echoes unreturned
three	my mother’s knees
four	popping out her socket  never leaving me hungry due to tiredness or boredom
five	loving
six	sticky residue off an unwashed cup
seven	leaving it behind
eight	tender tongue tied
nine	unraveled in cuddle night sweats
ten	a sneeze without bless you
nine	still affects an atheist
eight	life only lived once
seven	lick the day close , bleed out tomorrow
six	reopen your last kiss
five	i love you with no name
four	staying
three	instead of leaving
two	my father’s last words
one	i love you but
zero	i’m tired

IIl. 

tired 

hungry eyes  

will find 

a face to settle on 

this remains to remind you 

of the sweet 

pinks 

lingering around

soft slow steady sunrises

it all is

a present that passes

continuing to exist

in the silence 

after laughter 

muffled between greasy food and pillows 

through days where it (love) 

does not hold you steady 

or bends down to kiss you on the toilet 

with underwear 

stretched around the ankles 

preferring to not let our intimates

touch the floor 

being no more abandoned than night 

turning itself in to day’s glow  

preferring the warmth 

travels lightly 

is the

sacrifice

By atm.itm