These late night poems, when I get down to thinking
More than under-the-sun dreams
I'm calm and under the influence of darkness
My ideas have been ripped at the seams.
Because right here, in the dark of the night and the clouds
I have seen when there's nothing to see
Right here in my lonesome with no one around,
I have been when there's nothing to be.
Under the sparkling balls of gases billions of miles away
I have understood the silence and innocence
The way the stars are simple messages of being alive
I understand my mortality, in a sense.
No, I'm not taking acid or any drugs,
And I haven't even downed any beers
However, I'm under the influence of stars
Glowing balls of gases for another million years.

A bright future lumes in the dusk. An overbearing mother that cares too much.This is my life! My life breaking apart piece by piece. This mass of unsinkable ship. I don't write poetry anymore. Haven't in years. Truely why? Why was never clear. Alone away from home, reaching from insanity. White walls and padded room. Night watches and conversations with the interns. I will give up my favorite form of art just to come home. Flight of rage, and the mother walks away. This is my life. Tall glass to fill with a face not handsome enough, and a body with fat to spare. Don't tell me I'm wrong. I'M ALWAYS WRONG! You misguided emotional wreck who wouldn't accept submission only to beat me down again. FURIOUS! Something is left unsaid. Alone again. I miss my love. She never was Alyssa to me. Simply my love. My heart, my hope, my chance at a different fate then all alone. Now I'm just too little too late. Too fat and too fake.

It was 4:22 in the afternoon.
He had gotten out of work late
Because his boss decided to wait
Until the last minute to drop an atom
Bomb of files on his desk to be sorted.
His fingers burned from the cuts
Like residual radiation.
His coffee mug, emptied
Except for the last few, chilled
Drops, rested on his lap.
He hadn't been able to make
It to the public bus stop in time
So he jumped aboard the nearest
Subway train, found a seat in the
Middle of the next to last car,
And eyed his route on the
Map like a pinball in a machine.

For the first thirty minutes,
He stared intently at his mug,
Studying the smudges around the
Opening where his lips had been
Pressed into like a soft kiss.
It took him back to a time when
Kisses were like currency between
Him and his ex-lover, and each
Were more than generous.
Just as he began to imagine
The way her silk bra felt on his
Fingertips, a foul odor passed by the
Tip of his nose without saying excuse me.
His eyes searched the car until they
Fell upon the teenager sitting just six
Seats down, a white cylinder fitted between
Her fingers like a pencil tucked behind the ear.
"Excuse me, miss. You're not allowed
To smoke here."
His hand waved absently in front
Of his face in an attempt to
Dissipate the smell while her hand
Waved absently in his direction
In an attempt to dissipate his presence.
"I already know this."
His brow furrowed as he
Watched her take another hit,
Blowing the smoke out her nose.
"Then put it out, please."
She lifted her eyes from the novel
Clutched in her other hand
Before replying.
"I don't think I will."
If it had been any other day,
At any other time,
He would have
Dropped the
Subject.
But his mind was
Warped with toxic fumes,
And his vision was cloudy,
His legs were shaking.
He slid down the conjoined seats
Until he was only three spaces
Away from her annoyed posture.
"Now listen, dear. This is a subway,
A form of public transportation,
Not a coffee shop where you can
Just flick your ashes onto every
Available surface.
There are families aboard
This car, families who shouldn't
Be forced to inhale your second-hand smoke."
He took a deep breath, eyeing her expression.
She flipped a page and continued reading,
The cigarette hanging from her lips
Like a diver poised to jump.
"Excuse me, miss, but.."
Just as he had begun speaking,
She tossed her book on the empty
Seat beside her and leaned forward,
Resting her elbows on her knees
As she gazed intently at him.
"I don't imagine you're one of
Those self-righteous types who
Boss people around on principle,
So I'm going to explain this to you."
She held up her cigarette in front
Of her face, forcing him to look,
Despite his stunned expression.
She pointed to the padded,
White area where the
Imprint of her lips resided.
"You see this? I call this happiness.
This is every boy I ever kissed,
Every apology I didn't mean,
Every argument I won,
Every smile that ever
Stretched across my face."
She pointed to the dark,
Crumbled substance at the end.
"This is what I call misery.
This is every heart I ever broke,
Every dollar I ever stole,
Every cut I ever
Inflicted on
Myself."
She held
The cigarette
Loosely in her
Fingers as she spoke.
"If you notice, as I smoke it,
The misery goes up on smoke,
And the happiness remains."
She tossed it across the car.
"Some people have scrapbooks
Where they keep their memories
So they can refer to them as
Often as they please.
Some people go to therapy
To hash out every feeling they
Refuse to deal with. But I
Live with my memories,
And I carry them with
Me, but when the
Miserable ones
Seem to overtake
The happy ones. I simply
Smoke them away. So if you
Are so insistent on taking away
My cigarettes, then I suggest you
Burn every scrapbook and pencil
And pill bottle you can find,
Because this is my escape."
She leaned back in her
Seat, staring authoritatively.
His lips parted several times before
He reached into his pocket and removed
An orange bottle with a white cap.
He twisted the top off and
Poured a single pill
Into his empty hand.
"The yellow side is
Every girl I fell in love with
Every vacation I ever took
Every baseball game I
Ever watched.
The red side
Is every girl
Who broke my heart.
Every day I see my boss.
And every evening I
Sit alone in the dark."
He tucked the pill back
Into the bottle like he was
Putting a child to sleep.
She eyed him curiously,
Watching as he fondled
The bottle in his hand.
"This is my escape."
His eyes lifted,
Meeting hers.
"I'll trade you."
Pursed lips met
With indecision
Until she pulled
Her pack of cigarettes
From her leather purse
And tossed them on his lap.
"We're all dying slowly anyway."

Talking about the Beatniks and their poetry,
You said I was the Neal to your Allen.
That we should write together late at night
Our knees touching
And our hearts pouring out nothing but honesty
On empty notebook pages

They broke all the rules to be together
And when they did,
They changed their lives and their writing forever.

The book I read today, it claims that Neal abused Alan
Physically and emotionally
But that Alan turned this pain into art

So it seems to me now
That even though we are a lot like them,
The roles were reversed
And that you are the bad influence
I should have been warned about.

It's like heroin, each word said
Injected into my ear
Your lips are the needle.
I get chills, I know it's wrong
So wrong.
I try to avoid it by plugging my ears
The urge is too strong to
listen, listen, listen
The "Did you hear about"s and
The "I can't believe they"s
Have me crawling back for more
I'm hooked on those juicy lies

It's like a cigarette.
I breath in the information
Luckily, it doesn't blacken my lungs.
My soul, however cannot say the same.
I release the built up smoke So everyone else can share in my knowledge
Some unwilling,
Others take a deep breath in,
Blackening their soul with
Second-hand gossip

It's like a joint
A community drug
You can't keep it all to yourself
Let's pass it around the circle,
And make sure everyone gets a
nice
long
drag
It makes serious matters casual.
You regret.

It's alcohol
I don't know what I'm saying
And my mind blurs with fuzzy lines
Between right and wrong.
I pick up my keys and
Drive my self righteous car
Judging all I pass by
With every sip I drank
I didn't see the stop sign.
I didn't see the warnings.
Now I've affected more than myself
As I stop too late.
I hurt a life,
Multiple lives.

Another gossip overdose.
Another victim taken.
Another life ruined.

I can't imagine a life without you

No one to comfort me
When I am weak,
No one to share the joy
When I do something dumb,
No one to tell me "Get well soon"
The same way you'd tell me,
No one to share secrets with
When they're dying to be let out,
No one to call me late at night
When everyone is sleeping but I'm afraid,
No one to crack lame jokes,
No one to say "I'm speshul" all the time and just
Laugh
Endlessly
Even though we might have just
Cried

I can't imagine a life without you

I've never laughed so much in my life
I've never felt so
Reassured
That someone
Understands
And
Looks out for me,
Worries for me if I
Die;
I've never felt so
Appreciated
Receiving all the
Beautiful cards and
Fanciful handicrafts
All made lovingly by
Your perfect hands;
I've never felt so
Comforted
To know that
You won't
Ever
Break your promise

I can't imagine a life without you

All the time we spent together
Fated or
Not so fated,
I was overjoyed to think
I knew someone in SAP!
All the time we talked to each other,
Told each other
Funny stories or
Sad stories or
Real-life stories that made us sad
And then the other party would
Somehow,
Always,
Magically relate
And try to help;
Might take a while
But it always
Makes me smile.
All the time we'd laugh that slow laugh
And no one would understand us
And we'd just
Laugh even more:
Heh...heh...Hahahahaha...

I can't imagine a life without you

The first day of school
Not meeting you
And there'd be no one to
Talk about having "the mood"
And there'd be no one to
Laugh about having a lao gong;
And there'd be no one to
Talk me out of dying or
Telling me
Time after time to
Appreciate my life or
Just be random with and
Cheer up :)

I can't imagine a life without you

Not you
And you
And you
And you

Just one gone
It means so much
Each one gave my life
Her special touch

So don't you ever
Try to leave
My heart would stop
And I won't breathe
I'd die right there
I'd die right then
It's not the same without you
Not ever again