We re-wrote the whole thing,
from the beginning to the end,
over and over and over again.

Clean your plate.

The reason for death, is life.
if there's a reason for life,
I do not know it.

Nor do I care to.

I digress.

The question itself has reasons.
The answer to which we've all been looking for,
for the entire span of our existence.
Searching ourselves for an answer.

Ever since having said existence
****** so unjustly upon us,
like a suit at a funeral,
or the taste of a stale cigarette.

I dream of the gray between the black and white,
I dream of the deaths between lives,
and I dream of watching the sky
through someone else's eyes.

...and I wonder if it looks the same.

Punctured sidewall,
nails in the tread,
slashed with a knife,
stabbed with a flathead.

I'm so
tired
of changing
tires.

Light the blues shine though
on the withered voice of you
while walking so elegantly into
the dingy reeking bar where two
guys, and one gal speak the truth.

So when tomorrow comes
I'll try to remind myself
that this is what I chose.

This is the life
I deserve to live.

Wet boots,
menial tasks.

Remember Justin,
this is what
you wanted.

****, how many shots was it?
I think, looking down at the ashtray,
7... 8... 9 BUTTS?*
I smoke a cigarette
every time I take a shot.

Well ****, no wonder then.
Oh ****,
who are you again?

When I decide to "tag" something I've written,
I go to the homepage and just copy what's trendy.

The silence is suddenly broken
by a subtle crackling of my smile
and I can almost see you there
sleeping cozily in the center of my bed,
and I can almost feel you there
spinning slowly throughout my head,
swimming in all of my thoughts
and wrapped up in my blankets
and I'm struck with such glee
because I know
that you belong to me.

Keep reading, it gets better.














Told you.

She's beautiful weather
on my vacation weekend.
She's the cloudless skies
when I go stargazing at night.
She's one last cigarette
in my pack first thing in the morning.
She's the twenty dollar bill
I found in my old jeans today.
She's the free coffee
when I dont have cash on me.
She's an ocean in the sun
when I'm hot and sore.

She's everything fortunate
that's ever happened to me.

Reality fades and blurs away
into different shades of my imagination,
while I sipped, while I sway.

Walls drip and run in textures
that scream and pierce my sanity,
while I dilated, while I stricture.

The laws I decide and dictate
are controlling all forms of creation,
while I nodded, while I escape.

Life leaves me far behind,
as does remorse and agony
while I release, while I reclined.

I want to smother her
in fallen leaves,
making Autumn eternal.

Wind whipping through naked limbs,
plastic bags like tumbleweeds.

Solace under an overcast sky.

Billows bellow out from the candied sunrise,
brief beauty unfolds in rippling hues
of taupe and ochre and violet.

I watch alone,
as the commuters argue over lanes.
As trucks trundle past.
I enjoy the parallax as
the chuffing dragon's breath
of their air brakes
grows, and then fades.

I watch alone as light begins to bathe all.
An upside-down ocean. A gorgeous abyss.

I watch alone, yet
I'd like someone
to share this morning with.

Lick the rust from her heart,
let her pet you in the dark.
Keep her company at night,
purr away all her fright.

Your sandpaper paws and tongue
smooth out her roughness.
Your white velvet coat has begun
to prove she's not loveless.

We've been burdened with a debt
an emotional loan
and people seem to forget
it's cheaper to pay alone.

It's too late to stop now,
and far too early to start over.

An ocean on land, sprawling, rippling
in the invisible wind.
Let's roll down that hill again,
if we can.

I'm going to touch you
so ******* hard.

The clock's too slow
and I'm hungry.
Only two hours until
I can hit the bar.
Maybe I'll get a
****** mary.
Maybe I'll get
three shots.

Burn holes in my arms,
melted wax on the back of my neck
and god I ******* stink.

A magical place
of repose
and composure,
a place of dreams.

Remembering the time you lent me
your heart, underneath the bent tree
in your mother's back yard.

But god, how I'd rather be
your step-father.
And spend my days upon
your mother's front lawn.

She took me home

to her single working mother,

and I could feel

the distaste radiate from her mother's eyes.

And I loved it, the hate she poured on me.

Because I knew that

the more her mother disliked me,

the daughter would love me back

fiercer than ever before.

The coils become
three inches from
the stem of a smoke
in the ashtray broke
at the cabana tonight
Vince dimmed the light
and I'm sober whilst
he serves me drinks.

Forget, do your best.
Let the liquid take over.
C'mon, you know you can do it!
Past, presence, the future is near.
So please,
just forget me dear.

Lovely though it was,
the grace of wakefulness
took that light from me.

The more I try to grasp it back
the more it seems to evade me,
receding deeper into my mind.

But my body still remembers fine,
sweaty and aroused with a throbbing
sensation down south of my equator.

Good morning life,
good night sweet love,
may you return tonight.

Return to my sleeping eyes
so my body may remember
just one more time.

Sore palms from third-degree burns would be worth it,
just to run my inquisitive fingers through her hair ablaze.

A simple shadow, and feathers born from ashes of the past
are all that I've gleaned, yet still enough to make me crazy.

And it's rivers, rivers flowing through
the veins of the earth.

Clean the filth, dear rivers,
drink the filth greedily with your mouths
and store it in your banks, lovely rivers,
store it in your banks.

Oh rivers, rivers carry us all
into your beds,
into your heads,
lay us down to rest.

But rivers, rivers never slow
that rushing white noise,
the white noise like snow
carrying a forgotten voice.

Deafening rivers, rivers, forever.

Low in a midnight sky,
above cityscape horizons,
I see the face floating
larger than it ever has before.

She saw me on the porch, too afraid to come inside,
and didn't want me standing in the sleet and rain.

Even though I wasn't there.

She thought of me which is nice
because soon she won't know
who I am anymore.

For the mouth watering food
For the kiss when I walk in
For the earnest determination
In everything you do

For the way you make me laugh
For your educated, diverse opinions
For the unrelenting drive
That keeps you learning

For your gratuitous sensuality
For your Sunday morning sexiness
For each and every day that
You share your life with me

For your love

"When first I opened this book, I felt the pain of it's spine beginning
to break. Although this may be my initial entry, I dread the day that
the binding gives way & spills the golden-edged pages unto my lap.
What a curse to envision death before we've yet to even begin living,
what a tragedy to squander and waste this time that I've been given."

Beautiful boy Bruce
is all black and blue.
His mind gets loose
and is held by glue.

I don't want anything
I don't want anything so **** much

I want to be sunburnt.
I like peeling off my dead skin
and ******* in the ocean.

words and spaces and punctuation

She told me no,
that she wasn't ready.

But behind the bowling alley
these things didn't matter to me.

So I slid my hand into her pants
and my fingers into her.

But it was okay because
she loved me.

Daydreams take me to the abandoned bridge
deep in the forgotten forests of Limerick.
I park up on the gravel and without bothering to lock
my doors I walk off along the path.
I know you'll be here soon so I pick up the pace and
ignore the dancing tree branches.
The great arches before me now, overgrown and full of
repose, my feet follow familiar slopes.
Fighting through the underbrush and overhanging
tangles of vines and foliage I glance behind.
There you are now strolling, just rounding the bend,
with eyes cast upwards towards the memories.
I ascend the final few feet and stride along the forgotten rails
atop the forever remembered bridge of bridges.
I close my eyes and breathe, then I look down in my hands and
I see I've brought jumper cables with me.
I hear you behind me now pushing through the thorny fingers
of brush ripping apart the dress you're wearing.
The dress I bought for you.
Our eyes meet and without saying a word or looking away
I rip the cables down the middle, one for each of us.
Silence ensues as we tie them around each other's necks,
making sure it's tight enough to make it hard to swallow.
I run my fingers through your hair.
You smile a sempiternal sadness.
We approach the railing along the edge of the disintegrated concrete
and tie the opposite ends of our jumper cables to the rusted steel.
I sit down on the edge and feel your thighs brush against me as you
join me at my side, and I feel your fingers find mine and entwine.
Thoughtless we lean forward into gravity,
and let it take us.