There's something inexplicable
about the way
they make you feel




nothing.

Happiness is fleeting
but
you are your own mistake
you keep repeating.

one of these nights
might turn out right
if you keep your mouth shut
like the door you're always
finding yourself behind
with your back against the wood,
muscles tensing
as you knew they would.


Nose bleeding-
when is the last time you ate?
It took you an hour to get ready but
no one can see all your hard work
in the shade.

"baby, you look great"
is all you wanted to grace you ears
but you've got too much on your plate
and there are only couples here.

They will pay you no mind
and you will begin to feel
you might have been left behind.

you pretend you aren't hungry
because it seems more grungy.
cigarettes will stain your teeth
and smoke will spin circles at your feet
as you sway alone;

always hanging in the wings
you're looking for another drink
another triple shot
and you sink deeper into
the half-assed hope
that this will be a night
you forgot.

Just more meaningless crumbs
of these evening hours
accumulating into an unusable mass
of dried out nights

exaggerate another fight
you had with your mind-
what will you do when they call you out
for being lower than the grout
in the bathroom
baby face like you just came out of the womb
your knife is duller than
your conversation topic
you're a fake-
From a mile away can you be spotted.

Drained of inspiration
plagued by perpetual consternation
what will you sample next
on your way to a falsified elation.

Spending weeks away dragon chasing-
How long will you be on mental vacation?
They're growing impatient.

C.e.M. 12.21.2014

Maybe the last time I wrote about you isn't really the last time because here I am again, picking up the pen and slicing my skin open.

After all that has happened, you are still the ink running through my veins and I am still consumed by the hunger to bleed you into every blank space I see.

there's not much to know about me
but there's this boy i love,
and he's my honey bee.

there's not much to know about me
but this boy i love,
he calls me his sweet pea.

and there's so much to know about him
but i don't think sees,
what he truly means to me.

everything about him,
everything little thing,
makes me wanna sing.
sing all about him and what
he does to me.

this boy that i love,
i feel he's sent from above.
this boy that i love,
he tells me i'm someone he's proud of.

but does he know
how much i glow
when he's around?
and does he know
when i'm alone
he's all i think about,
all i think about.

so if heaven is real,
then i feel truly ethereal
when we're together,
and i want him forever.

but forever, isn't long enough,
but i hope i'm strong enough.

I found that i could not write about you
It's not that there are no words to describe what you are
It's not a problem with words
It's a problem with feelings
How do k write without feelings?
No matter how much i have delved into my brain or how much effort i put into it i could not muster up anything about you that could light up a fire in me
And that's a problem
Because i cannot write about you
And if i cannot write about you
That means i don't love you

(E.G)