Blue eyed rogue
Child of the night
Macabre actor:
Dramaturgy is your life
I am but a shadow on this wall
Curious yellow eyes reflecting light in my skull
As I watch the people dance
You at the center of them all
Amazing the sheep
With a lions roar

Father, thank you for the liquor
The whiskey that tastes like my absent grandfathers candy
The hottest atomic fireball
Cinnamon and sweet, liquid sunburn to make my adulthood at 17 complete
Mother says I’m not allowed to become an alcoholic
And I won’t
Her baby girl knows how to survive a teetering edge-
She taught me how by pushing me to it
I promise mom
Dad calls me lazy, selfish and jokingly a lush
But I’ve never been those things
Despite what you think
Despite the dangerous flavor of a good drink

What do you want me to say
That I don’t like it?
That I haven’t tried
Beer, gin, champagne, whiskey, bourbon, wine and *****?
That my childhood was still a childhood when I never knew where I stood
Where any moment we could’ve been homeless
Where I could’ve lost my footing?
I was never allowed to live that dream
Ah me, I’ve struggled with poverty since I was 3
But you refuse to see.

No, mother, you can stay in the fantasy
I won’t burst your bubble
But me?
I’ll take my ****** reality,
and a sublime fire whiskey
On the rocks please

Mirror self, confidante
I speak to you as if my reflection could hold up to lengthy conversation
But you’re as fragile as I am
Gleaming glass, tempered with crying
I ask you once again
What did I do, to hurt you to where I cannot make amends
Reflection, I beg you
With your tear streaked face and ****** mistakes
The dark wisps of our hair to be our rotting frames
In ever many mirror eternities
How can I fix you
Repair myself
We are but fractured parts
Of something that may have been beautiful once
But with our shattered hearts, where do we go from here?

Blue blue eyes
Glacier like, that sky grey
And I’m aware of the cliche
Of that statement
But to be truthful it was the moment I noticed their color
That I was finally in your arms and my heart rate fluttered.

Over a year of twice a week
Swaying in place and shooting a furtive gaze
Trying to be unaware
Of how heavy the weight of the air sat on my chest.
All along, never did I notice, the favored subject of so many poets;
The blue blue eyes.

The fine cuts on my legs
Glisten faintly like distilled dew
Enchanted by the torture inflicted by you
Small red droplets hang off the lines
Like rain fall on spider silk
The color dark enough to remind me of things I’ve killed
Birds and squirrels and bugs too
But included are my feelings, and my past that I couldn’t let continue

The jagged yet graceful pain looks like cracks
On my fragile, human glass
Reminds me of my broken mind
Twitching, flinching, all the time
But it hurts, and it’s sublime
A grim reminder that I’m still alive

Delicate scars lace my shoulder
Thin marks bedeck my legs
Anywhere that I could decorate
Without being noticed by anyone other
Then my own regrets

Brusque and iron clad
Smile hidden within the layers of a nomad
Monumental hands, calloused, clasp Mine
Insignificant, delicate, small
And when they would twine together
My thumb would be stroked by a gentle finger
He’d hold the connection to his heart in silence
And I knew more then that grasp bound us