last night
i had a dream
so real-
i wish it was.

theres a burrow in there.
a nook.
a tunnel.
that wakes at its mention.
like a marionette
for its final dance.

i try to keep all the ****
i dont have figured out
in there.

theres a lock on it
but i kept the key too.
its somewhere on my chain
with the others.

the key might be
two gin cocktailes
and not eating for awhile.

i found a place that i left behind.
it still holds the things i look for.

Is it emulation or imitation?
Don’t both equal copy and paste?
But a cookie-cutter dream gets hard to be,
especially out at sea
I gasp and splash,
but my system crashed
So I try to pass and grasp,
but sink further from the grass
I am an iron anchor upon the seafloor,
shedding flakes of red rust,
just left to be an empty husk
The harsh salt water: my liquid brander
Conformity leaves me an empty-hander

just what i needed
a storm through my room.
my clothes
on different parts of the floor.
it was a mess before you rolled through.

she dances
sober
and smiles when she does it too.
its really a sight to see.

i turn 19 today.
i feel the same
as 18
which felt alot
like 17
not much different
from 16 either.

i feel my age
i see my wall
i see the light
behind it.

i wish you were still just my best friend.
that i didn't feel so obligated to tell you only the things going on in my head that you want to hear, like how my day was or how much i love you. (even though those things matter too)
because sometimes i want to tell you the things i only scream when i'm alone, the things that keep me up at night and make me cry in my car in an empty parking lot.
those things matter too, and sometimes i wish you were still just my best friend.

my true form
is that which lurks
in the bottom
of my mug

a shiny
distorted face
similar to a
monster

sleeping under
coffee and milk
only caught in
bottom-half swigs

and shiny cold
confessions to
myself so near the
end it doesn't matter

the me at the bottom
looks the same as
it has since i was
just a kid

only difference is
now that i'm older
i know better than
to think it won't hurt me

I kept the corsage in the fridge,
Which is why it felt so cold to the touch.
I just wanted to keep it alive
Unlike most things I hold.

I don't know CPR
But I do know how to leave well alone.
A white flower glued to a sequence band
Two things so awfully out of place;
Felt painfully familiar to me on that day.

You wore a red dress
Which speaks more
Than any metaphor I could have written.

I read a lot of books.
I should have seen the signs.