while september cicadas
were singing my neighbors to sleep
i was up walking holes in my shoes
over love once lost
so many poems ago
that the only thing i remember
about the house at 38th & bluestone
is that it reeked of alcohol and is
as i'm sure of it
still saturated in perfume
and abandoned laughter
but that's not the point
give me a minute
what i'm trying to say
is i always thought god
enjoyed watching things leave me
it makes me wonder
what was on his mind
that night in september
when i stooped to cough
or tie my shoelaces
i no longer remember why
but i recall their trajectory
the way gravity cradled my hands
and brought them crashing back to earth like a 747
they landed inches away
from a scrap of crumpled loose leaf
folded in half like the smiles
of my relatives on a holiday truce
you see, lately i've been looking for scars in the newspaper
i find myself checking the obituary
for my former selves since the day i found your suicide letter
maybe that's why i can never explain my obsession with history
maybe archeology is just a funeral
in reverse
maybe hell is just rewinding home movies
or watching confetti
turn back into photographs
i never told anyone
the reason the doors to the gun cabinet in my family's house are locked not because they are afraid
i will take my life
but because sometimes
i sing them birthday songs
on the day you died
it makes me think
of how rooms only echo
when they are empty

*you know
i never echoed until you died

I can't stop thinking about the way you say my name.
You won't stop repeating her name.
I guess we're all playing the same game, aren't we?

Is it my fault that I've locked my heart in a vault away from your hands? Or is it a crime that you've broken in and reached my heart? Your personality like molten gold filled in the crevices and hollowness that covered me. Are you a miracle? Are you a miracle? Are you what I've been praying for? Because the way you look at me makes me feel a thing or two and I would love to get to know you.

You look like my next rebound,
Wanna kiss?
Maybe its the way your eyes twinkle,
Or the way your smile is like his.

Less words, more skin,
Have I told you of his laugh?
Drown myself in alcohol,
The mess he left, wasn't enough.

Sign my body with your teeth,
Try to wash away his smell,
I knew love was a trap,
On him let's not dwell.

Finger my brain,
Oh you've got his hair,
More alcohol, less pain,
And I whisper "I don't care."

Strip me bare,
My walls are down,
Touch me roughly,
Make me frown.

You look like my next rebound... Wanna kiss?