5)

1)

3)

I just wanna sleep until
I can wake up next to you
I don't care how long it takes,
I'll sleep until all I have are bones
I will dream everyday right away
Cause I feel like a skeleton
when you aren't here
anyway

Going home to empty my veins
out over the coffee table
When you called me crazy
you must've bit your tongue
I'm a walking panic attack
Clenched fists and red eyes
I'm a suicide note all torn to shreds
in the trash can at the top of the stairs
And I'm just aching to pretend
that I'm still trying to stay alive
With my fingers crossed behind my back
and dug six inches deep into my spine
I'm faking it just hard enough
to sleep uninterrupted

I watched cars sail under bridges
and smiles fade in the distance
Graffitied buildings begging
questions like, why is it so
hard to make it out of the house
without having a panic attack?
Three hours from Philly to Scranton
Just three long hours with you
on my mind and I can hardly breathe
because the world looks so big
through wide windows
Tall trees and deep lakes
all around me, but stretches
of ugly highway are all I see
There's so much to love,
so much for me but I
can't seem to change my mind
I can't seem to leave your name behind

How much Hell could a person
swallow before they drown?

I have not written in a long time
Haven't felt the urge

The sun is practically screaming outside my window
Begging for my attention
Glaring through the blinds
Spilling heat all over my bare thighs

The sun is practically crying at the foot of my bed
Demanding to be seen,
Demanding to be felt
But I havent moved in hours
And I might just stay here until it's time to sleep again

My eyes are open, staring at the uneven paint strokes on my bedroom wall,
Wondering why I chose such a striking blue for my safe space
I dont feel safe at all
I pull the covers to my chin,
But I'm not cold

I feel the baby kick in my abdomen
And I wonder if he's hungry
I should probably eat something
But the bread is stale
And the eggs are bad

And I'm tired

I'm just so tired

I rub my stomach

I break the silence

It doesnt shatter,

It just cracks kind of faintly,

Unevenly,

Weakly

I whisper
I'm telling my child it will be alright
But I dont believe me

I feel an other kick,
Not so sharp this time
Kind of lazy
I think we're losing our strength,
We need to move

I rise from the bed and let the covers fall off my shoulders
Like a corpse rising from dirt

I choose a stale pop ****
Baby seems calmer
I did it,
An other day

I stop in front of the window
Over the kitchen sink
And squint out at the back yard
I feel anxiety rising in my chest
And my eyes begin to water

Not again

I sit down on the floor
And I cry
And I cry
As the time passes

So slowly

Soon the sun starts to wither
Shrink
Retreat
And so do I

The fear in my heart is raging
It's the only source of energy I know

I am fading
Loosing substance
Becoming distant
Becoming nothing

Piles of dust on a mattress

I can probably describe in detail
every time I've caught you with a
sad look in your eyes & every time
I've seen you hide a smirk
I can probably go back to all
of the times I've heard you laugh
and all of the times I've seen you cry
I can honestly probably even recall
every cute sneeze, every deep
yawn, every eye roll, every voice
crack, every text message, every
phone call, every hug, every unkind
moment, every sympathetic glance
I remember everything about
the people I love
and it hurts sometimes

I know everyone writes,
"you make me happy"
in their
Valentine's day cards
but if I were to
make you one
it'd say,
"you taught me peace"
Because sadness is inevitable
some days but
peace is what told me
that crying on your cold,
wooden bedroom floor
at six in the morning
didn't mean I'd
never stand again

If its not about you anymore
Who am I aching for?

I'd hang your flaws
In picture frames
All over my bed room walls
Before I'd look twice at
Their qualities

And I'd kiss the stab wounds
In your back
Before I'd reach out my hand
To save their sinking halos

I'd rather be a comfort
Battling alongside you
In your worst nightmare
Than live a single day
Of ease
In their
Dream world

I know this isn't what we
Had hoped for
When our parents
Read us fairytales

But my mind is only
Quiet when you speak,
I only feel at ease
Between your sheets

So,
I'll listen to you sobbing
In a cold, concrete stairwell
Every day
And I'll ignore
All the soft songs
They sing in warm
Living rooms
All over the city
If it means we can
Go home together
Again

If we're a stretch,
I'll reach for you
Until my arms fall off

If this is suicide,
I'll hang this noose
With so much pride

we went to hiroshima
to look at salvaged pieces
of mangled corpses,
twisted limbs
that were once controlled
by human brains

we lowered our heavy heads
and squinted our blood shot eyes
to read the time frozen on
the wristwatch of a
severed arm,

10:18

it was 10:18 twice today,
it will be 10:18 twice tomorrow
and my arm is in its socket now
but when will my watch stop ticking?

when will my wrist disintegrate
so much that the tan leather strap
will cease to be strapped to anything at all?

as if my senses have been
heightened in this instant
i can hear the faint
whisper from my arm,
"tick, tock, tick, tock"
i am older with every slight
motion of each narrow hand

consistently aging,
rhythmic like perfect breathing,
always dying,
always dying

there is no space
that time doesn't occupy

but we went to hiroshima
to look at salvaged pieces
of mangled corpses,
twisted limbs
that were once controlled
by human brains

and we were comforted,
all gathered between museum walls
to see the depth of our mortality,
without really having to feel it

here,
we were safe,
at least we pretended to be

because here,
we were looking at death
encased in glass,
death right beside
a hanging sign that read
"do not touch glass"
in red ink

here,
we could see death
but we couldn't get too close
and to us that meant
death can see us
but it couldn't get too close

so we stood before
every expression
of frozen time,
the end of time,
the continuation of time,
with this plexiglass shield
that we thought was immortality,

drunk on this illusion
that we were somehow
being protected from our own
inevitable doom
by some material
produced by men in a factory,
and held down by two screws
on either side

every time we inhale,
every time we exhale
the unpredictable moments
that cradle our glass lives,
while reaching over
glistening concrete
where we can turn into
a heaping pile of blood
and sharp edges,
losen their grip
every single time
we inhale,
every single time
we exhale

we can pretend
that air is endless,
and i guess it is
but individually
it can't be

individually,
air is limited

each one of us
are only allowed so much,
some of us less than others,
but for all of us the same rule applies,
each breath is spent,
never lended

each breath
is a breath we will not
be reimbursed for

so,
we pay to
scrunch our noses
up like sleeping bags
and open our eyes wide like
neglected *** holes,
at the sight of
time all caged up
cause we need to
believe we have a say

The rain left random splatters on my bedroom window like water colors on a thick canvas;
7:45, a humid Monday in the summer
Mother Nature with her paint brush,
she pulled back and released the bristles
to leave a spotty dripping splash of rather abstract art all over
every boring building in this tired city.
I considered it a small treat to be peering through the spontaneous drops,
as they distorted the mundane view of my front yard.
With a slight intrusion of my leftover child's imagination,
it appeared as though the pavement that slept beneath this old town house
was melting & all of the houses in this neighborhood were floating with the clouds,
silently through this aquatic universe... had I opened the window,
I thought, "it'd be sink or swim" so I thanked the green of Earth
that I was safe & dry at the edge of my bed.
As a kid the most painful of hours were eased
with a fictional story that made my situation seem safer than all of
its alternatives, although that was rarely the case...
My grandfather would stand in my door way & whispering through the chaos
of just an other tragedy, he'd say "If you can't find anything to be grateful for, pretend."
Well I know most of the time I was grateful enough just for him.

I calculate the inches in which your smile
has fallen every time I see your face
So don't you dare try to tell me
that you're doing okay
You're dropping clues
inside your voice
I can hear it break
You can only hide in your skin for so long
It's thinner than you think
And you don't know the lengths I'd go
Just to find that ***** blood
You've got tucked away inside your veins
I'll cut you right open
With the questions you don't wanna answer
I'll come flooding in
Until your gates come crashing down
I'll find the pollution you're storing behind them
And learn how to clean it
Before it reaches your heart
I won't let you live like this
You can't get away with all this pain
Your acting days are coming to a close
Your truth is reflected in the spotlight
On your stage
And I'm pulling strings
to make a change

camouflage days,
how easily you fade

the sun hides
from the pressure of time
and change is left invisible

I'm not a poet. I'm just a writer trying
to find a place to rest my pen
somewhere between the sonnets
and the story books

The ink runs dry and the pages
o v e r f l o w
but from which end,
I just don't know