Chase Gagnon is a poet born in Detroit, Michigan in February of 1995. He was raised within the city and many of its suburbs, spending his childhood moving from “broken home to broken home”. His childhood was unstable and often violent,11 of a mentally and physically abusive father. This resulted in a severe depression, which resulted him to being hospitalized after attempting suicide. While admitted in Havenwyck Hospital he discovered his passion for writing, and used it as a creative outlet. He has stated many time that “writing is what saved my life”
In the rather short amount of time since then, he has gained worldwide recognition and praise for his work, receiving multipul honors such as having his poetry reprinted in twice in the annual Red Moon Anthology edited by renowned haiku poet Jim Kacian.
http: //aphelionchasegagnon.blogspot.com/
I wanna be a poet when I grow up, Mrs. Evans
I want my past to terrorize me in my sleep
and die wif a needle in my vein.
I want ta be poor and impoverished
...
We're all equal in the eyes of the reaper
from the wild dreamers to the never-sleepers
once we're pulled up on his hook, we're all keepers.
He'll mount our souls in his rustic cabin
...
I miss the smell of the marijuana on your breath as we laughed at the world in the darkness of our filthy apartment. I used to hate the way it smelled, but I've been craving the contact high of your kiss. It's hard to believe that you're not breathing anymore, and your chest is motionless in the morgue. I refuse to believe that your lips are cold, and that you're lying naked without me there to touch you. Why would you leave me here alone? You were the only thing I had but I had everything in you. I found a strand of your hair on the pillow soaked in your nightmares, and then looked around our room hopelessly for your ghost. I don't know why I haven't cried… I guess there are just some things tears can never wash away, and I know you're one of ‘em.
I see the bottle of pills sitting on the nightstand. You placed them back so neatly before you drifted off, leaving only two in the clear orange container that glows like a grinning jack-o-lantern under the lamplight in an otherwise dark room. Two isn't enough to kill me, but maybe I could get a decent buzz and visit you in a hallucination of hell, where you sit before the devil's throne sucking his red ****. I'll vanquish him with the light of our love and take his throne, then get a boner for your lips that are warm again. We'll reside here forever and never get another eviction notice until the end of days, when we'll spiral into a never-ending darkness with the demons who scream almost as loud as you when I caress your **** in a world where sinners are saints.
...
I've seen Death — his shadow woke me
as he walked through the alley by my house
on his way to the gas station for a pack of smokes
and my neighbor who was bleeding out
...