there’s something unsettling about convenience stores. the fluorescent lights resemble some planet far away from here. neon signs with a letter broken, now flashing “be r,” beckoning the broken, the damaged, the lost boys. the home of those who don’t fit in. they buy the greasy pizza, rubbery hot dogs, and chemically nacho cheese which imitate something edible but scream danger on the tongue. haunted by the souls of the the pimply teenagers working the register, lips stained blue from blue raspberry slushy, slaving through the evening for the nocturnal souls buying milk and bread in the wee hours of the night. hushed arguments on the phone about forgetting to buy toilet paper and why don’t you ever pay attention to me. the pungent smell of hair dye boxes, the stink of attempting to be someone you’re not. skeleton children with messy hair, ***** fingernails as well as thoughts, up to no good back for more cherry cough syrup and furniture polish. soon after 3 candy bars will be found missing from inventory. detergent bottle caps, once neon, now faded with gathering dust, residing next to a dented can of campbell’s chicken soup. an organized chaos. the land of misfit toys.

That awkward moment,
When I looked you in the eye,
And promised myself nothingness
Thinking, just another apple on the tree.

But brick by brick,
It all came down, flawlessly crashing,
And it was like, another door had opened,
And I could finally look across that wall,

So then there was that awkward moment,
When It turns out, it actually promised,
That It would be the one.

when i hear your voice
i feel like smoking a million cigarettes
and drink tens of bottles of wine
i see pictures of your smile
i hear you protesting in wise words
and saying all the things
about people who are not heard

the way your harmonica sounds
and your guitar strings
they lift me to heaven
and bring me back to earth
a vision of love and hate
your voice
something so strong,
my ordinary ears cannot understand sometimes
your words

some say you don't have the voice
but the way i hear it
i can't compare it to anything
not to angels
nor to demons
you have the right kind of soul
the kind they will never get to know

i wish you'd never disappear
never go
i know
a stupid illusion
but in my heart you are the one
making my rainy days bright
your songs they make me smile
every time i hear them in my room.

i had a dream
you were sitting next to me
typing some words
and as much as I deny it
i know
it was the most wonderful image
i'll ever get to see.

playing with words is your best game
a mystery
a lost soul
a rough voice
and gentle touch of strings
a mad voice in a world
with nothing to believe in
to you
i'll drink a glass
and in my heart
your music will be
the only thing that will ever last.

Promise me no promises,
So will I not promise you:
Keep we both our liberties,
Never false and never true:
Let us hold the die uncast,
Free to come as free to go:
For I cannot know your past,
And of mine what can you know?

You, so warm, may once have been
Warmer towards another one:
I, so cold, may once have seen
Sunlight, once have felt the sun:
Who shall show us if it was
Thus indeed in time of old?
Fades the image from the glass,
And the fortune is not told.

If you promised, you might grieve
For lost liberty again:
If I promised, I believe
I should fret to break the chain.
Let us be the friends we were,
Nothing more but nothing less:
Many thrive on frugal fare
Who would perish of excess.

I've been telling my therapist about you.
I've been trying to sleep, yet all that fills my head is you and her.
You talking to her. A filthy wreck. I feel sorry for her.
Me working into the early hours of the morning, watching a sunrise on the long drive back, me wanting to get home to you.
You getting involved with her while I'm gone. You inviting her to the bar. Let me make you a drink.
You could be wiping her lipstick away before I return, erasing her taste from your lips. I bet it's disgusting.
I thought you hated dreadlocks.
I've been going over and over in my head if this is what I'm worth. I know I'm not a looker.. My hair is messy, my clothes are ripped, I'm all marked up from the past.
I thought my personality shone through that though.
Sometimes though, I guess that's not enough.
What hole do you need to fill? Please tell me.
Please, oh please tell me why you knocked me down. Why am I not enough.
I've been crying a little each day, then pulling it back together.
I've been trying to still be that stone wall I always am throughout this horrible pain.
I smell like cigarettes, you smell like lies.
I've been telling my therapist about you.

I will walk a thousand miles in a warm and lit wood,
Or lie in the dark all day, my chest pounding, sometimes my palms sweating.
I can love you with my entire being, with an open heart and outstretched arms,
I can nearly hate you also. The thought of betrayal, burning flames lapping up inside of me.
I will exhaust myself with tears about things that haven't happened yet. Far off thoughts, ones that are merely dust in the wind.
Then I will tell others not to worry about a thing, while my own mind consumes me and all that I do.
It's a challenge to practice what I preach.
I am trapped underwater, I am flying through the clouds
I am singing out loudly into the bright sunshine, I am silent in the lonesome night.
I am free as a wild stallion running across the grasslands, I am a bird with clipped wings.
I don't know the color grey
I never have.

Sitting here in Tompkins, it all comes rushing back
The empty stares and bloodshot eyes,
Shooting dope and smoking crack.
Tiger is on the corner shouting "it's the first day of spring!"
Everything is gone to me, all my belongings in the pawn shop, sold.
It doesn't matter what season it is, my heart is always cold.
They kick me out of the basement and now I have no place to sleep.
So I rob a man, cop a few backs.
Get high in a public bathroom and weep.
My eyes are brimming with tears as I walk down down the street.
They're silently screaming help me to every person I meet.
But I cannot let the world see me cry, they cannot know my tears. The world is a big bad place and it cannot know my fears.
I'm waking up next to the East River, I'm only 19 years old.
How did I get this way, what happened? I was always a good girl and did as I was told.
Mommy, where are you?
Mommy can I please come back?
My father has left me and you will too
I'm sorry.. I'm sorry. But this is what enfolds when your daughter does smack.
I'm in Denver now still miserable, I am so far away.
I swallow my pride and lie when they ask if I'm okay.
I'm staying in a crack house, my arm is infected, I'm scared.
"Help!" I tell them. "Please take me somewhere safe."
They roll their eyes and laugh, they say there's no such place.
I overdose, my heartbeat stops for two minutes. Then I snap back to life.
"******* it!" I yell "why didn't I just *******  die?"
I try again and fail twice.
My time is running out, I can't take this **** anymore. But when it comes to that needle.. For her I'm a ******* *****.
My arm though.. My ******* arm. It's getting worse. Five times is size, filled with ****, it's so ******* sore.
I take a breath. It's early morning. I grab my things and run for the street. I'm sorry to my friends.. But my promises I can't keep.

A thousand more miles away now, my arm is still throbbing, lying in a hospital bed. Hooked up to a million machines, my doctor saying he's surprised I'm not dead.

This is what I think about, just so you're aware.
This is what I think about, alone in Tompkins Square.

If it wasn't almost 2016, I would call you on your house phone from my corded phone in my kitchen, we'd chat quickly as to not rack up my phone bill, we would make dinner plans and call it good.

But it is almost 2016 and I'm actually looking at your Facebook and your girlfriends Instagram and I'm laughing / crying over the gag worthy photos she has you featured in.

If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't even know you had a girlfriend and I wouldn't have tried to save the poor girl from your ***** lying ways.

But it is almost 2016, and when Snapchat helped me find out you had a girlfriend while still trying to **** me, I DID try to save the poor girl from your ***** lying ways. You told me not to say anything more, but I had to stop this because I know the feeling of a heartbreak like the one you were about to cause her.

If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't have access to every social media platform that allows me to see every single detail of your life. I wouldn't be driving myself crazy with questions and no answers.

But it is almost 2016, and I get to watch your life unfold with someone else and wonder why I came in last, still no answers.

If it wasn't almost 2016, forget tinder and my quirky bio with the 6 best photos I've ever taken, you'd call me on my corded phone because you actually knew IRL how fun and quirky I am and you'd already have seen me in all my green eyed, beautiful brunette glory.

It is almost 2016 and that means I am just another girl that you aren't looking for something serious with because you're a boy in his early 20s craving freedom. Instead you send me ***** text messages because you're a boy in his early 20s and you met me on Tinder. I am a girl in my early 20s and when you met me on Tinder, you assumed I wanted less than a relationship and a little more than a "hey how are you?" convo.

If it wasn't almost 2016, you wouldn't have detailed all the ways you would make me feel good because would you ever really say those things to my ******* face?

But it is almost 2016, and you didn't say any of those things to my ******* face, you said it beneath the unsolicited picture of you naked in your bathroom mirror and you even added that ******* emoji with the sunglasses, like what you were doing to me was actually super cool.

If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't have known that you were feeding lies to me on a silver platter, I would have gorged myself on your tasty sweet nothings.

But it is almost 2016, and I am starving myself of something worthy and filling because I can't stop reading the tasty sweet nothings you are feeding her.

It is almost 2016 and I wish I could have said ******* to your two timing face instead of via text message.

*******, again and again and again.

there was a mother somewhere today
who held her child for the very first time

there was a mother somewhere today
who gave birth to a stillborn child

there was a mother somewhere today
who made the hard decision of abortion

there was a mother somewhere today
who was allowed to use a stethoscope to listen to her childs last heartbeats as the doctors unplugged him

there was a mother somewhere today
whos child came out to them

there was a mother somewhere today