Poetry walks into a bar.
She gets drunk
On life.


F.Z.**N

I was in my early twenties
when you first kissed me.
And now I'm in my middle twenties
And no one's ever beat your kiss yet.
I doubt anyone ever will.


F.Z.**N

It wasn't the heartbreak, no.
It wasn't the anxiety or lack of motivation.
It wasn't the drugs that killed him.

I think that he simply got tired
Of all those lined up houses
In his neighbourhood.


F.Z.**N

If he can break me,
He can break you.


F.Z.**N

A cockatiel lives in my ribcage
and maybe it should
come out and tell me about
the pain it swallows
and turns into songs,
songs for everybody to hear.

I am fine with it there most
of the time, really.
But sometimes at night my pretentious
heart gets tired and I want
to tear it up and set the bird free.
There's nothing that can save me.


F.Z.**N

Don't laugh,
You are next.


F.Z.**N

The months were passing
As my doubts growing
Higher and higher.
I was thinking that
She was just a summer fling,
That we were just mad
At each other,
That we will eventually
Get back together.

Anyway,
My doubts carried on
Until the merry merry day
I saw my grandmother's ring
Around her finger.
And I knew we were pretty much over.


F.Z.**N