Even when I split my skin,
When I feel lost now and again,
I know I'm not broken.
I'm just somewhere I've already been,
And if I pulled out of it then,
I will do it now, all over again.

My bones are weary. It isn't a pleasant state to find oneself in. You wouldn't say so.
Little bones in the neck start to grind together, muscles pulling crisscross and backwards down the planes of your back.
At any moment the fear may present itself; that these bones will squish meat and blood so tightly that they must burst through skin and you are certain, of more than just your own sleep deprivation, that it will **** you.
You’ll see stars, feel the heaviness in the muscles of your arms as they slowly deaden, for how impossible their dream of reaching up and cupping starlight. If only you could embrace it.
Fill your glass up with sparkling dust and drink ‘till you are infused with it. Like more than you were your first summer night - warm, dark - spotted with fireflies, whose wonder stared and blinked back into you as a thousand suns.
Drink until the heat builds and spirals into every nerve, every particle of marrow, until it is lifted from pressure, lifted from being, lifted to a state of not but pure release.
Then remember that you are a story. That stories do not behave, do not twinkle in as timing permits, nor align as a physical presence.
I am glacier inside, I feel the snowbanks drifting through my mind. The little icicles behind my eyes and the floes bobbing sluggish though my heart. I don't know how to thaw.

You were the best blanket
Now my coffee's my radiator and lover, both
I don't care to fix my shirt as it falls off my shoulder,
And sunlight bleeds over the bay
Paint splashes across the flowers in the windowbox,
Teenagers ride their bikes across the lane
Boats set off from the docks
Everything is just the same as when you left
I singed my hair with a lighter and took your picture from the wall
But you're still full of empty promises,
And I'm still sitting here, sipping coffee, waiting for you,
So nothing's really changed at all.

(at least the *** is new)

"Your addiction and you are in love,
Not starcrossed"

And it's a tango I'm so familiar with,
Outside my mother's house, or my dorm room,
Or my apartments in Bellevue and Anaheim.
I know the steps, I know the rhythm,
That first drag of a cigarette,
That first sip of plum wine, or ***, or whisky, or beer,
That ancient gut-longing for someone who isn't here
I know the chords to the opening song,
Even to the older, pining songs which are long-gone
Now finely-tuned to my latest loss,
I give up, I give up, and I pay for it
No matter the cost

It could be a waltz, or a samba, but it's just deep-set lust
And though women usually come out on top in Tango,
I know I'll never win

So it's just a tango, that dance with death
Because I can't leave it be, at least *not yet

Let me tell you about Puerto Vallarta.
How cool air comes in over the ocean,
and how even in the rain the boardwalk
is beautiful and serene.
Let me tell you about sipping a sangria
in old town and the bouncing bridge
and the old fountain in the square.
Let me tell you about the new club
they opened in the basement across the street
and the top floor suite where I lay
with a man for the first time.

Let me tell you about Mexico.
The way the poolside music wakes me at 11
Let me tell you about El Panorama,
watching fireworks from the pirate ship below
Lighting up the bay as I dig into the
best steak, best views, best service
Let me tell you about Quimixto, Las Caletas
Days spent dancing on boats, and scuba diving
The same waters we fish and surf on
One with nature and the city

Man, I miss this and Gerry,
Four years to the day we met I'll be there
Telling the ocean about you, just for one day.
But you may never see these things you missed,
Your bare feet are no longer welcome upon the sand

Let me tell you....

*Let me tell you of
Taking my two best girlfriends there,
From the market to the marina,
And the flowers the men would give us-

And in another week that'll be me again,
Older but still free, soaking up the sun,
Flirting and dancing and swimming
Just my 23rd year down in PV,
And my story goes on

I doubt I will ever get better again
But my doctor just tells me "take your medicine"
One happy pill, and one for infection
One to stop my organs destroying themselves
One for the pain, one for indigestion
Some are required, some are suggestions
Some really work and some are just liars

Sunshine lived on in your summer-grass eyes,
Though through the cold I never understood why.
Until you said my name, as I hewed flower crowns wound 'round my knees,
And you pulled me up and kissed me.
Then I knew the sun would never shine as bright as your smile
And any love I'd know again would be a lie.
Because you fixed my heart as well as your friends' trucks
And even if every project you started felled to Weier's luck.
You ever strove to accomplish more.
And even if I was ever a child of darkness, I sought that summertime love, to my core
I reached for your sun and the stars we both reached for.
I was always reluctant to realize, then as now,
I was never going to be enough, so how do I
Still call you the one I most loved.

noun: the fact or process of losing something or someone.

The empty chat logs
Turning swiftly to empty bottles
And crackling logs, burned to ashes
You were supposed to feed the fire,
Fire consumed weeks on end
Loss is a pretty spindle poised
For blood, spent on nightstands, on hot iron
Wedding one heart to another
Melting without a soldering gun
Loss is cataclysm
Wrought with despondent accuracy
Loss is alive with the dreams you built with me

I'm trying to love him - the way I should have loved you,
Like someone who's grown, like someone who knows
How to heal with someone, how to slow
How to forgive, and how to talk
%^&$, how to calm down and how to unlock

I'm trying to give him peace
I'm trying to find my own release
I'm trying to let go, find how to say no

I'm trying to love him - like I should have loved you,
In another time, with a better mind, with a clear conscious
And a blatant state of intent, with the words of love I kept hidden,
If I'd been better, what then? but I,
All I can do, is fail to love him,
The way I will always love you.

I am lost and alone in an empty home,
With as many tears as would make a sea,
I have written and fought and gallantly lost,
I have utterly forgot how to be me

Do away with the doubt
And the fear
And trust the block,
Trust the blade above my head
I just want to say I have a small issue
Not big at all, I don’t mean to criticize
Only it seems a little rickety
In your craftsmanship.
And in the disdain in your eyes.

Ghost kisses across my skin, scars
You dream you can save me
I'm made of stars, they burn bright,
Say love can save me, be the one thing that won't hurt
Only self love can save me and I'm content to have the memory of notes unsung,
Of nights unspent,
Of kisses too long ago to have had,
to be burnt

Ghost kisses across my skin,
Gleaming white from the blade,
Music notes seeping out under my sleeves,
The days I cut with rib-bones like a knife,
They dreamed they could save me,
Drag me from the depths of my self-hate sea

I said I was made of stars, they burned bright,
In phosphenes and fluorescents in the night

Said love could save me, be the one thing that wouldn't hurt
Only self love saved me, though I'm content to have the memory of notes unsung,
Of nights unspent,
Of kisses too long ago to have had,
to have burned.

And just like that,
I know my magical world is gone
It ended in a drunken haze,
On the last note of a higher-octane song

And where did the magic go,
When they spent the very last of it
And can I get it back,
If the old lyricists ever re-writ
Their last musical pieces
Capture the stars again from the sky
And re-map the venues with them,
To play one night like we will die.

The merry go round sailed around on its rusty, squealing hinges. I could feel the chipped paint beneath my fingers over the metal bars serving as handle holds. The platform ridged to better stay on. My old friend swung into view among the blurring trees and swing set. He looked aged, weathered, with his unruly hair sticking in places by sweat and the light rain that had begun. It needed to be cut back above his ears. Though this way I could braid it, or let it curl around my fingers.
My laugh rang out against the cloudy playground as I went around one more time. His answered, a lofty, deep-set sound. I could hear his shoes squelch in the muddy rut around the merry go round. It wasn’t going as fast as I felt it was, but I couldn’t care less. Watching the muscles of his arms heave it before he began in a run and hopped on gave me a high. To me, we were flying. We could be superglued here forever and I’d never care. Even as my shirt began to cling as the weather worsened.
Then the weight of his sudden landing brought the contraption to lurch, then slow, and we fell as a heap on its side. “Just one more time!” I remember pleading between breaths, his heavy and gaping. His green eyes flashed, incredulous at the idea.
“It’s your turn!” he bellowed. Though we both knew I hadn’t the strength to turn it, much less with him on it. My stomach was starting to flop even as I thought about giving it a go.

My friend asked me today what melancholy means.

I didn’t know how to respond without her getting upset that I was sad, again.
She guessed boredom. Well, a kind of.
A nostalgic boredom, longing for a when or a why. Then I reconsidered, and I told her, “I feel like Pittsburgh”. Like the snow outside when the heater was too high inside, or a cup of cocoa at cafe Rachel. Like texting a friend and writing for the paper while wearing lined leggings under my pajamas. Like being lost in love, buffeted by the storms that held me.

We sailed under spotty streetlights. Cutting through cold air, listening to an empty radio station. I thought again, and then, agreed that melancholy was my nothing. Because somehow, all the little things took my everything.

But that isn’t true either. Is it.

How much is a memory?
Burned feet on the hot concrete?
A skinned knee or a papercut?
Maybe it's the wasted nights, or a dead phone,
Lonely nights spent at home
Waiting on something to "be"
Something worth being happy,
Until you find it, and smile,
The one memory that makes it all worthwhile.

It's a little melancholy.
You awaken feelings which pang and pull,
A soreness from misuse, feelings full of
Memory.
And I am too old now to follow them through
The way I want to

July. Evening sun beating down across my shoulders, clawing hot talons into my back. I listen to the waves, gently lolling against the beach as if asleep.
Rolling back and forth, breath. In. Out. I wonder what the ocean dreams about. Does it also wish to escape? Does it also dream of those who once swam within its waters?

Maybe water is the only thing to really know my secret.
What it's like to always be flowing, unable to hold onto one shape
(Or one person, without drowning them).

There isn't a cloud in the sky. It's almost... pale yellow, I think. Across the horizon. Pale like fresh-squeezed lemon juice, bleeding out into the sea.
There isn't a soul on this beach. Not unless you count the *****, bruised-peach shells skittering across the rocks,
And I have no place to be.

Resting is never easy, with the stirring of empty thoughts, like clanging little bells and spilling mold from teapots. I sit and drink of folly and greet my guests there, for I’ll never get to resting if I don’t have my fair share. Though the poison may eat me up, I tie wonderland’s ribbon round my neck, and jump the spout into the drink to take my given due. Again I kiss the teacup’s lip and mumble “I love you."

You wake up my mind, make it clatter around with tinny bells that knock against my skull, igniting sparks. There's loud red and subdued white brights popping as my heart starts racing,
I can't just put my phone back down and walk away
And I'll step a little lighter and I'll smile a little brighter and I'll love a little more
Disgust tangy and savory at the back of my teeth, caught up between tongue and gums tangling over things I want to say
I put you from my mind, for a time, that lasted just about a month, a lonely little month drawn out into scraped knees and burned oil
Still, I am still while electricity races within, warming me to a steaming glow, fresh from the pools of acknowledgement
Your involvement, blending into my icy life, dying out
Searching for any sign you leave since you left, that you care,
But I don't know if I can stand the cold anymore.

Here in Canyon, I've got a crush on the girl next door.
She's athletic to my shut-in,
Don't even know if she likes women,
But I knew it as I walked into her office when,
I wanted her advice, some hike to hit my core
The butterflies when she poked her head in,
Said "can't you watch the movie?" and then,
When she invited me to hang with her in her store,
I wished it could be more.

But see, I'm just a bartender, and she's the straight-laced girl next door.

Love, when we break up, I'll be fine
I'll cry an ocean and go sailing-
I'll turn the page and write a song.
I'll miss you, when you cross the line.

Pray, don't try to charter my course,
I'm only missing things which never came to pass
You're the one I wanted for forever,
I tell the waves, the fish. Laying on my skiff,
Crying stardust, dry and stinging
Reminiscing

But don't worry about me, I'll be fine
I miss the way you said your dreams were mine
I miss the smell of snow and melting in the kitchen together,
I miss summer flowers, afternoon showers,
Empty highways, when your dreams were mine,
I wonder if they ask you about me..
But I'll be fine.
I'll be fine.

Tonight I chose a path, followed to its end and it was
Closed off
Kept driving down the road, to find another way
Evening air burned sweet as incense over the green water,
Clear and cold snow run-off, up in the mountains
Where otters made their play
A hummingbird came to say hello, singing in my hair as I
Shook my head around to see it, retreating and returning
My car died, I just lay in the sand
Sticking my toes in
That river running down, if I could only bear it
I'd slip into its current, grow leathery fins,
Oh I'd never go back, but for the memory
Across the way, heavy with trees and a rock face
Scorched by fires of travelers passed by
There are antlers, elk and such, oft in the forest
Their hoofprints in the beach I walk
My toes trailing across the rocks, fingers trailing wind
A small stone, caught up from the water, gleaming emerald,
Pocketed
I wish you'd come dream here with me
For I fear it's all just a dream within my head

Though in my heart, where the footsteps of strangers linger,
dusted by the ashes of my torches burning
Pyres,
There is nothing softer than the vastness of our different worlds
In which for my expression
There is nothing more silent than the words.
So let me say them, let me sound them off in time,
To the clank of the weights wound ‘round your feet,
And the drums in your mind,
To a future reminiscent
Of your heart’s steady beat.

Let it be mine.

I know they don't know how I love like an inferno
It consumes me, flames lick anyone who comes too close
Like a whip licks delicate skin on the flick of a lash
I cannot stop running my mouth, I want to share, say
Everything I want to find the weakest points and say the words
That cut you down I want to, kiss it all better, this burning crash
Is easy to ride right into the ground

They don't know how my emotions hit like a tornado,
Want me to get a job and keep a stable life without ripping the
Roof off this house and destroying everything we've nailed down
I cannot calm the core, there's anger in the eye and you
Cannot calm me, but root me to the spot
If you try to sate me I will take out this entire town
I can't stop the tornado but I've installed a warning

Like a tornado siren test and a fire hazard sign set to yellow
Always ready to crank it up to deadly degrees
Wild and devastating with a serrated edge at least
There's a sort of serene beauty to the aftermath,
Waking up from a hurricane to the calm debris-ridden sea
And maybe you ask her if she's burned herself out yet, and if she's
not crying,
You bring her a blanket and tea

Sometimes the nights up here sink into my bones.
There was no quiet in Cali, not really. Even as the apartments and small homes slept, there were the haggard and homeless on the streets. The lamplights never went off, and security made rounds around the gates and shopping center. All rounded off neatly with the late-night patrons of the 24hr Walgreen's.
I was one of them.
No, there's a peace to the PNW. The fog that blankets everything, keeping the night sweet, secluded. Somewhat lonely.
(I would hate to not have a friend up here)
There's a way the stillness of the hours after midnight sink into me.
Surrounded by trees, grass, dirt. Bugs and owls and coyotes.
The earth breathes here, the night is a living entity.
It breathes me in, and though I may be at odds with the nights up here
Sometimes
Sometimes, we are at peace. A peaceful understanding.
As I sit, and let it wash away who I was and who I am.

Tock, tock, tock
Blocked, unblocked,
Hurt me? Tick
Stop,
Did I learn?
....
Tock, tock, tock


Sometimes my life seems like a blur.
I loved once? Did I love again?
Did I just pretend? Based on that first love, did I fake to love?
I married once

I'm naught but lost

Tock

We sat together on the sidewalk of another ***** street. Street lights burned, it was during the quiet of the early hours of morning.
Not quite looking at each other, not quite looking away, he pulled a pack from his motorcycle jacket.
He held it out to me, I hesitated.
"It's a contract," he offered as explanation to a question I didn't ask. "Do you know the deal?"
I frowned, eyes and mind too muddy to do anything but rest heavy. "No." I tried, then thought before trying again. "It'll **** me," I processed, mouth forming the words slowly, though my tone betrayed me as steady and sure. "In the end. Won't it?"
He must have nodded beside me. He was watching me then, taking in my hunched shoulders against the cold, bones that should be young and healthy making me as gaunt and tired as I felt.
"How long do you have?" I whispered.
That haunted gaze of his wavered, sliding from my lips to my eyes, while I still faced away, faced forward. We were two strangers on different paths. Similar, yet parallel, not meant to cross.
He opened his mouth, calculating. "A few years," he offered. "Less than you." And I laughed.
A small, mocking thing. "That's debatable." Came out before I could stop to understand. I tensed, maddened, and that's when I looked at him. "What is the deal?"
Facing me head on, he didn't look shocked, no malaise tinted our conversation. "It'll **** you," he mimicked me, I felt like he was mimicking me, before he continued. "But first, it will save you."
The intone of his sentence nearly made me choke. He offered the pack again.
"When will it call collect?" I muttered, but he must have dismissed it.
We sat for a bit longer as I slid a smoke out from the package and lit up with the help of his lighter, his hands shielding the flame to keep it steady.
He looked at me, like I'd just made a promise to him that I couldn't keep, that he would make good on in the end. "You want it to save you," He told me quietly. I wasn't listening anymore. I wasn't listening.
"You want it to save you, you want it to **** you,"
In a moment he was gone and I mourned the loss.
Unsung clauses in my mind, his voice soft and loving to my ear. "I'll be there when it does,"
Because maybe, maybe I wanted that, too.

When you're off hating yourself..
.Make sure you don't make the world hate you, too..

I want to know how my name tastes on your tongue
I want to make your blood sing

I want to recreate the warmth of summer in Williamsburg
With the cool breeze by the willow tree

I want to know the places you've walked and trace the footsteps
As I walk through gardens and hills and cities
And I will do it all alone, if I must

I wish the world for thee

I'm halfway between "**** you" and "**** me" and it keeps sliding.

Everyone who gets close to me, blocks me and runs far away from me
But man, if I didn't ******* warn you guys to begin with

Maybe I'm incapable of love.
I keep it all boxed away,
Like matchsticks.
Until they leave,
And then, only then,
I take those matches out
When I want to burn myself.

I wish you’d think about me tomorrow, when you’re closer than before,
Sometimes I start to wonder what border patrol does it for
If there were fences, I would climb them, if there were trenches I would brave them,
But there isn’t anything like that stopping us so darling, why create them?

The stars on my ceiling turn my room into a galaxy,
Suddenly standing on the precipice of another world
Where little comets race down like snow
It's so cold, outer space is so, so cold
But it's my secluded little world, so here,
Pull on a blanket and grab a mug
Tea steeps much quicker here
And oh, how much deeper we fall in love.