Games are for boys -- I was in the wrong.
No other opinion ever matters,
and how I know this, it makes me sick
Middle of your twenties dedicated to
card and computer games, but
never once was your attitude cool as
you thought it was.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I play for fun.
Maybe I'm naive, but I play to feel free.

Games are for boys only --
sometimes for girls who "aren't like other girls"
but then look what happens, Mary,
you get exposed to **** enough,
you'll become an *******.

I want to have fun, but I can barely breathe.
You all want to be competitive until you lose
in a way you never thought you would,
then suddenly the competition's a farce
and you're not okay, because of that list
you made, the one that has acceptable
and unacceptable ways to win and play.

I could be mean if I wanted to, but sometimes
the truth does work.

Sometimes the truth does work.

Honey, if you're hurt that you didn't learn
what you should learn in kindergarten
you are more than welcome to join your
toddler friends in the playpen

How do I find the words like you? Last of the letters went lost as youth sped away. Zero to sixty the opposite direction in my rearview mirror. I'm afflicted with a carcinogenic lust introduced in verse, first between teens and twenties, still, locking my swollen lips below thirty's unwashed neck hair. I love the scent too much to leave. I'll breathe the fumes too from the edge of death, but how do I find the words like you? Fed to the limit on apathy, too many buffet meals in the houses of broken bones, bitter spirit cages. You know what? Could they be preying on me? I've never been the prey. But if this position suits me, I assume the condition is voluntary. How do you say, your distorted image is an idea I like? In you I see a small world containing the realm of reality folded in on itself, plus practical beauty separate from else. In the day you fill my dreams so when I wake in the night, a body I'll never touch is the flame in my mind, the dissipating smoke in the ash in the back of my eyes. Soaking in Scorpio showers with the window slid open, ******* mashed on the screen, I place my aching fingers on the trail of hair down my navel. Pretend that you'd know me, pretend that you'd replace my hand.

It was the first time I saw your eyes
that I saw you smile and say hello
It was when I saw you
watching through
your
vertical curtains
that
my burden
fell away

It was the first time I returned your
curious gaze that I got caught

I kind of like it

I think, no, know
I'll grow accustomed
To my acquaintance, freedom

I kind of like it
If you want a name, I can't say
If you want a name,
Delirium,
Try ecstasy

Absolute nightmare
Turn into sweet dreams
Took a turn for the worst too
Many times
(In a row)

Absolute nightmare
Plant parting lips please
Let me go,
Let me go, now

Seen the saccharine
Seen the maudlin
What is it like
to want the balance
in between?
Let me tell you:

It is obscene

What is
the difference
between us?
I'd say
it's a full sea
at least

Whether of stars, whether of water, whether of concrete
I know I won't reach you

You won't be reached
You won't be reached

You won't be reached
You're gone

Absolute nightmare
Plant you parting kiss
and let me go.
and let me go.

I heard
the first sound of silence
since I fed their secret string
in secret to the old maw
calmly promising
deliverance
in exchange for
cohesion
by way of
senseless adherence.

While I was calm --
While I was calm
Silence saliently sailed
from me

They set their course to the distant edge,
so far, the flat Earth
anxiously appeared
very real, certainly sang
and said

"Should you continue raising white flags
I shall continue blending until you lose
the volume and you never hear me."

For the first time since the last time,
I rode the shallows
through the violet night
on trembling shadows
in low light,
in low light
in silence

I shot a signal flare from my breast,
wide to receive the worst
solitary reflection

Ready to be quiet, invite
my vibes to drive in
disparate directions

Every word you've
ever heard
is a lie,
***
to
find
out

Didn't you know
there is no
eye to eye?
with
you,
your
self

Some dark part of you confidently starts those fires.

Desire and I go way back, close, I've groped their inky caves.
Resist desire's lurid scope, so sure, precisely how you're made.

Some dark part of you longs to *****, to crawl your ******* veins.

It's as if
holy
work
is always
in progress

By design,
lifeless,
birth
is always
in progress

By design, the petals of glass
shatter in champagne, it's
By design, the empty glass
leaves open air for

for crystal black.

It's as if
life grows
great
with divide
by design

I inhale.
You breathe
out.
Done fighting.
Wind up dead.

By design, our lungs sputter black
past accomplishments, it's
By design, we embalm the dreams
we see as meaning, we

keep them.

we keep them.

She pulled me in with my brother
In a scene from sweet sixteens
Or I went willing, at the first
Sight of a sneaky sideways wink
Bad romance, it became us
Bitter confusion filled us three
My brother, he pleaded on his knees
Will you do nothing with my woman?
I fell under luck's frail favor
When my brother's she became a he
This he pulled me,
Or I went willing?
We became one on his couch
L-shaped leather wet with purpose
Aristophanes spoke of this
Yet now we drift

Drift, sweetly
Pull apart
Pretend we forget each other's names

How in the flying ****
do I begin to place an ad?
My body hasn't known
touching love since, hell
I don't remember when.
I want your love on me
Deeply free, brave bedroom
eyes. I want my love all
upon you, too. Lonely
existence, isn't it? Livin
vicariously through friends
is often your biggest and
loudest indicator of a good
day. Who? You gave head
to who and who blew you?
Never wanted children
with my baby for a reason,
but now the reason has crept
upon us, this house regardless.
I say to my friends, Who?
You gave head to who
and who blew you?
I say, Who? You
gave head to
who? And
who blew
you?

Doing recreationals under winter under your dim lights
Within the house leaning sideways, deep in the basement
Drinking twice our size in sweet white,
whatever cheap wine
With my humming lips, bless your pale hips in a headspin
You say, "Choke me out."
And when I squeeze, you scream

I'm on my pills
Back on my meds
I'm privileged

Once starshine
Once iodide

For years healing
You're done healing

You hard stop
You immolate

Every word
To ember but

You made a line of fuel right to me
that I will follow

I swore I'd
Sing should you **** me

Unless you
took my tongue with you

I see you
thought sealing my mouth
with stitches

Would drown my cries

We see
See how well that worked
Now don't we?

I bought a cow
Purchased her with but words
She works for me now
Grab her by the teats I need
Her drink to live
I swallow milk, keeps me strong
Despite this relationship
all wrong, that she provides
green needs
It's all I want
I used to have a cat, cute
andro-trans boy alien
He ****** my ****
Swallowed *** and ****** me raw
Walls fall apart
Every new best thing sinks and stinks
Under the barn,
I bought a barn
Under which the missing bodies compost

He says Gay in its colloquial
A language broke - n
By its or - igin creates
A world where only words describe
The gap between where lives lie
Why would I call you friend if it kills me?
-- too ******* scared of loneliness.
In return, my vocabulary
-- guess identity isn't too much to lose.

Shoot. Loot. Shoot.
Loot and shoot.

It's like half past ten PM
While it's true I've never been
the bread winner
I still wake and bake at dawn

Although, I'm losing sleep
They can see a tired person
hurting from existing as an
addictive personality

Although I'm losing sleep,
I'm positive this is the first
time I've felt fulfilled
since the last time

Believe me, my instruments are mine
when i'm the instrument - ally
conditioned queen
Believe me, my work is justified
when all it is, is time ill spent
in the end

Shoot. Loot. Shoot.
Loot and shoot.

Look at the
rewards
roll in

Oh yes, oh
yes, oh
yes, oh

Blue, purple,
and gold,
my goal

My
crucible
My
crucible

Shoot. Loot. Shoot.
Loot and shoot.

Oh joy, oh
joy, oh
joy, oh

How come in the meaning I'm promised new?
When you're my sole believer, what can I do?
What can I do but shoot and loot
til I become your monument?

Move. Shift. Effortless.
Leave. Return. Don't.
Return.

Hollow.
Where the love was grown.
Dejected earth.

Cry. Wallow. Fatigued.
Return or Don't.
Return.

The flora found the trashcan.

Have your empty earth.

i'm not your *** toy i'm not your joke

woman or man? boy or girl?

you can keep wondering because

i'm a fey **** wandering between worlds

let me make it too clear

for you to ignore

i'm not your estrogen or testosterone

you can write me as your punchline,

simple one, all you want

but you won't laugh away my hope

i'm not your material i am my own

the binarist dichotomy

kills us all

this pass/no pass *******

drives me up a wall

we are not experiments

for your experience

at our expense

let me make it too clear

i'm not your joke

**** me

all i ever do is run from myself

all i

do is done in pursuit of bad health

drain the well

dump me down

if you won't

then i will

trust fall into

the hungry depths

all i

do is done in pursuit of bad health

at the tragic end the sadness is

that despite outside approval

i never knew

to approve

of myself

The comets came down raining on a subtle day
Stony rocks, amber locks, stony eyes, and Jokes
Portland never stood as a golden neighborhood
Now it's over where I don't have any business
Back in time, when you got me to the center for
Your clandestine affair, meteorites tore through
The troposphere, made your basement glow,
When the world is never us, you want a poultice
Look underneath, you'll still find me there and

Still X and hot rock
Still X and at loss
Mess no more,
Talarah, she's dead

Still X and want you
better, Sid, want you
better, Sid, want you
better, mess no more

Cindy's dead
Binary test
Found the X
I wish I could
Say anything
helpful to you
Say anything
to help you be
golden, if we were
ever, then be golden
again

I clap for you.
Super fan.

Sad songs had their place
In the coming of age,
My songs sound the same
The sound, blase
Sad songs had their place
In the coming of age,
My songs sound the same
My songs are blase.

The answers I need, who do I ask?
Where's my fire?
Where's my immediacy?

The roof is overhead.
The walls surround my bed.
Food in the fridge.
Necessary electricity.

The ends I seek, where do I ask?
Where's my fire?
Where's my face in smoke and mirror?

Sad songs had their place
In the coming of age,
My songs sound the same
My songs are blase.

Where's my face in smoke and mirror?
Where's my face in smoke and mirror?

Miriam Marcus struggles up out of bed. She's caught up in blankets and clothing, stuck with a foot in the sheets. Coffee smell. Pungent, slightly sweet, it pulls her by her shoulders, with its body to the door. Then, sharp and deep, scents of a trashcan floating chicken in its own juice punch her in the nose. In the hall, lights flicker. In front, on the couches, bodies pile up, pile over the room. Get caffeine. Dodge the food spoiling happy on tables, counters, and do what you do as you do. Every day.

What's wrong?
Short. Succinct. Acute.
I never even wanted
this picture.
(You did!)
First smell is a fragrance
soft to my nose.
(Sour cream.)
Will I be number 6 in
this two bedroom
forever? Will I
lose my job?
(Probably.)
What's wrong?
Short. Succinct. Acute.
I never even wanted
this picture.
(You did!)

You wanted this medication,
baby. You can't tell me different,
though you could try. *****,
why you gonna waste my time?
I'm waiting for you, waiting
for you to catch up. While you
play twenties in your thirties
I urge your image using only
raw throated screams, always
unseen behind your head in
floating, incorporeal code!
And it kills that I can't know
(Pour coffee.)
if she'll catch up!
(Ignore it.)
I'll chew her heart into chunks,
(Work day.)
just let me!
I'll eviscerate her, devour her
and **** her out
into a self made five mile hole
in the lonely woods!
Just let me.

I am thankful for the opportunity to feel.

To be here, as opposed to absence.

I am a statistical near impossibility.

Death missed me, as stars led me from nothingness

through time to landings where feet touched, and

breath breathed, and blood pumped.

I am fortunate for the blessing of clarity and thankful

of those moored in the void around me.

Is love? Is love, s/he said, (…) is love.

Everyone dies, yes I do know this.
Have you noticed?

I smoke cigarettes.
I inject my sugar.
I neglect myself.

Everyone dies, yes I do know this.

I know your pain,
I ******* SHARE IT.

I know your kind.
I know all too well.

I know your kind.
"Why don't I ask for help?"

You see,
help is
plenty
easy
to find
when
you
look
like
you.

You see,
I'm no
fetish.

I'm fine with that,
it's just, I can't get no
get no
get no
get no

I can't get no, get no

Why would I want my fingers over the flame?
Why would I bother calling out your name,
when I'll burn either way?

Can't get no (insert noun)

Lights talk with flashing
Lights sing with a low hum
I walk the pavement alone
with poor company, me
and only ever me

No voice, no fire,
no song
to sing
in signal

I can make smoke signals, though.
Watch how many cigarettes I can smoke.

It's how I
how I find
my friends

It's how I
do my best
to pretend

What are your plans this weekend?
Are you free?
See, I thought maybe we could play
like the
night after the day
however many missing years ago
at the
Tiger Army show

Mercy, please, have mercy on me
Hanging long as I have over you,
might think I'd see death as it's coming
but the braid binding my neck blew out my eyes
and left me hanging blind,
left me hanging years for you, as an idea
whose fault?
Whose fault is that?

Am I just not quite my self?
Should I reach out?
Ask for help?
Well, all the others have

ALREADY BEAT ME THERE

Am I just too reclusive?
Should I reach out?
Ask for help?
Sounds ******* amazing,
honestly, but

YOU CAN'T ASK SOMEONE TO CARE

now can you?

The saying goes, if you don't feel old,
you're not old.

Me, I don't feel anything explosively,
aging fast.

The last time I remember as rapturous,
I was dumb.

Pushed up against the locker.
Never been kissed, since then
I've kissed and kissed and lips
have never been as plump.

The last time I remember excitedly,
I was dumb.

I was fifteen,
was sixteen,
then dead.

I was young, dumb,
now numb and wasted.

Just wasted.

Seldom has the shadow
Crawled over the daylight
At night, I turn it on
My high queen, the wattage
Shines her frozen orange
Upon my heated frame

You look on the darkness
See nothing but the void
Hear nothing but the cold
The old frozen silence
I hear distant echoes
Voices from within flame

Spirits call me
From dark places
Suddenly the light
Won't drive them away

Ghosts love my fragility
I'm living obscenity
Always high on kerosene
Running empty but for fumes

Of outcomes
Can't manipulate fate
Already holding roses
Can't manipulate light
I used her for her purpose
Such thing as too much?
Must be so
As my fingers turn to ice

I'm dead dreams
Ghosts love my fragility

I'm living obscenity
Always high on kerosene

Running empty but for fumes
Running for my life

Laze on the couch, sideways,
watching ants attack waed on the gift box
top, Magic, worst thing to teach kids
with addictive tendencies, those who fill
holes with things they hope won't deteriorate
in time after all of the money they paid
Bills stack, get paid, too, but the space left
is huge, too gaping for the remaining
messed up bunch of tight, clinched presidents
Never thought Washington bought ice cream
and got fat, or thought that Jackson dug green,
pipe cleaned, choked on **** til oxygen be
came an old means, but here I slink, giving them
to family, so I can recede comfortably on
an old futon with broke dreams, with full sink,
two XLs, to be honest, it feels too real,
feels too deep, feels like I best hold home
and blow dro, sleep to the X-bone beep.

Day
Day is plain
By night
My matter transforms
Becoming ascendant

Day
Day is so plain
By night
I become someone else
Take my real form

Day is
the suffocation
By moonlight my
constricted lungs
are briefly fixed

The writer scratches a note to their side,
She moves through day to the night like bright lightning on the somber sky.