I needa write another poem tonight.
Here it goes.


I'm drunk in my veins.
My stomachs in pain.
My poems alone.
My body’s a tomb.
For every beer i drink.
Trying to count sleep.
Minutes at a time.
**** this poems rhyme.

End it here.

**** me.
Carbon molecules are a ****** up species of atomic number mass, that should not critical in this place called "Baton Rouge", either its rough type and ****-***-mild-temper, need them, hate me, near the river so that i can end my ******* life, with a last drink tipped, into my gizzard.

All the frats are belong to us

Tonight was a good night could I only remember.

**** Bukowski.
I'll **** his ****.

This is all he writes about.

Suspended by eyelets, over delicate violets,
in the coat closet above my grave.
The marionette, of skeletons wrist,
layer together like clothes neatly hanging.
We divide up our lives, into green, pinks, and whites,
like my sixth grade best friends wardrobe hung.
But the guilt below our silk, displace dirt as earth spills,
keeps us nailed to pineboxes we dug.

Skeletons in our closet
While the parade of tendons follow bones.

Muscles drag our bodies, while our loved ones place our grave stones

The doors shut but we are digging
Our way out of this dirt

Clenching our ribs our femurs out hips
This basement emotions mirth

Collapse, dig down below the cave bottom trove
Of eyelids hung open starring at our motion while we try to gather our home

We put together skin to make us look better we staple our eyes opened up
Tie our veins back in to our circulation, inervate our brains to our thumbs

Piecing together after death has weathered our body's to frail specks of ****
The vultures can eat us but put back the pieces scab ourselves back together with dust

I write poetry like a fourteen year old girl.
I AM A 24 YEAR OLD TEENAGE GIRL.
I write poetry like a fourteen year old girl.

i'll never grow up.

The girls, the dames,
every petty thing.
The skirt, dress,
every pretty scene.

The way they tap toes
at the throws on the floor.
How bobbing their head
plucks doubt into the rhythm,
they miss the point,
but their clothing dons precision.

I'm up on stage.
They watch me from below.
Like the kneed posture pleated jeans,
patella to the floorboards.

“I saw your show.”
“No you didn't.”
But people saw you staring blankly
past.
hands me a drum stick.
“Can I have your autograph?”
“I'll do you one better.”
I stick the drumstick 6 inches in my ***.

“You sounded great...”
“No I looked like I was fake”
I acted, I stressed, I posed,
and I played.

“Lets have ***”
I say “No.”
It was just a show.
The act is done now the curtains
boast.
I don't bow.
I walk on out.
Through every living zombie
permanently in the crowd.

Put your ******* back on.
You will never mean anything to any of those stupid ******* girls.
Instead they will put your nudes on the internet and ruin your life.
You will think you did something great.

You were used.

They built up walls to make a house,
Made doors and locks to keep me out,
My folks make tapes to show me how,
To overshade a son and make him feel drowned.

In his own “home”.

We all feel those moments,
No one hears us scream.
Sometimes we earned it,
Some times we can't breathe.

But in the end we die.
We heave and lurch out our last breath.
Our soul never leaves our body.
Ataxic heart beats, then death.

Aesthetics a fake word.
Nothings pretty at all.
I drink my beer and i sleep sad,
My liver cries from the alcohol.

I know things now that I didn't know young
Like loves a fake prophecy we take **** like a drug.
No one makes you happy and all that it leaves,
Is another empty promise that you try to achieve.

We all fall down.

I hold your hand,
Hold your head up above the toilet.
Then you **** another dudes ****

Hold your hand, hold your heart in my chest,
Then you **** another dudes ****.

This is love.
Can't you feel it, can't you taste it, can't you smell it,
In her mouth where he went.

Oh this is love :)

Beer is my bottle of sleep,
and I drink enough sleep to forget,
that I'm all alone
I don't have a home,
and my soul will just die when im dead.

Just another scared boy waiting in his casket
or acting a part
its either action or nothing
the mind is divorced

bodies are useless
why accumulate them
in a sack of skin, the cage created
by a skull cap glass brains are wrapped in

transparent and thin
a sleep sheet sewn
by rapid eye movement

encased in bones
the alcohol is sediment settling in the bottom bodies brave colony, of other owners that forage for a loners last remnants of his ostomy.
cavity.
Bags of excretion excrete his thoughts, like lead does to mass graves of forties gulags.

Hes lost all compassion, extinguished all hope, hopes a disease the defectors misquote, cause cadavers decay, minds atrophy as muscle, senescence affects all and with age we buckle, the pressures too great, mans heart is too weak, the blood is no longer pumped to his feet, as he falls to his knees, the earth says “we are one”, as the worms eat the flesh of the casket they've dug.

Its not the point of killing faith that u will find someone.
Its the action of loneliness and controlling your bonds
Its empty alone and so is pretending to love
You cant make connections not like addiction to drugs.
Save the drug of infatuation.
No reason just meaning less
No selection. Just what drips in your lap
No focus just lenses that crack

The sextant marking starlines that guide your path
is no longer Coordinated calibrated to designate a map

Walk amble climb along to view a moral prefix
to design a way out of a sea just arms length
with the depth of the roots of mesquite trees in the spring

We are all stowaways in a ship waiting to jump to shore.
Trying to find a place to spill seeds in the tilled rows of a *****.
The words you whisper are pretty and my minds enthused
tho i know every go at this game i shall lose
Im wandering in a labyrinth
Chasing in a brain
like a rat in a spinning wheel following reflections from a cage

You tricked me. Oh yes. You win
Im no longer a man like all women before you ate the innards left a shell
spit out the hull
Dragged my meat to the floor

One final kiss and i leave, i am missed
You say lies again
i pull off your fist
its on my head
its in my throat
i read words that you spoke
its not my fault
its the blood clot
keeping us unconnected in this note

I am dreaming
secret beaming
red lights blinking
help is sinking
No hope between two
softly stroking
my cross is burning
No fires stoking
On my fore arms
on my chest guard
all is sinking with the funeral
All the voices in my head
are telling me it should be dead
yet the ***** in my soul
tells me that he still pleas for bread
But i starve him
and i lash him
and i strap him to this ledge
for he is wrong
and yes he lies
you're the harpy of my dread


You ******* killed me like i was a lame horse to be put down