I don't want to see your scars
I've got plenty of my own
I want to see the way you move
when you think you are alone

I wanna see your stars and gleam
and taste the strange lies in your dreams
and wake with you from far away
and steal your thoughts for just a day

I don't want to see your best
I want to see your world undressed
and laid out for my mind to see
Come on! Show me your poetry

I want to know how mad you got
or what you thought when you smoked ***
or when you will begin again
or why you'll lose, or what you'll win

I want to meet at your backdoor
and dig my toes into your floor
and smell your hair and wash your feet
and find out what you had to eat

I want to see your raw side
your dark, pale underbelly
and scoop you up just like the sea
Please! Show me your poetry

I waited for you
by the lake where you used to go
when it would snow
Autumn leaves falling on the old house
with wood paneling and empty windows
no one bothered to go there anymore
and neither did you

I chased you down the hall
the one I grew up in with the door on it
you are quicker-footed than me now
who am I kidding
you always were
and got away

I followed you through
crowds of people stood and stared
like I was naked; but not you
you were the only one who kept going
and my legs were too heavy

I hid and tried to catch you
but the moon kept getting bigger
you stopped and watched with me
cold disembodied emotion melting
that was vaguely fear and awe
but maybe something else

Plentiful piles of sweetened sorrow
bog the mind like fog.
Maddening melancholic malaise
beautiful and bleak; break swift and sweet

When last I left you sitting here
alone with my lukewarm beer
You told me I was charming
told me scars were ****
and I felt a little nauseous
but I listened anyway
can you order a beer
so the next time I see you
I'll forget I saw that fly
on your ear? Really? Great.
Whats that?
You're drinking to forget
the ***** on my boot?
and your old man
who had the master plan
which is he on now?
b? no z? can you count?
you want to forget him
and you want to forget me
like a peppermint wrapper
cheap and negligible
that you carelessly toss
away

Riding the back seat is sticky
Thick hard hot upholstery
With vinyl strips that burn
But not as bad as the molten buckle
Are we there yet?
Hush!
My leg has a rectangular brand
You never told me to buckle up
I would have to teach you that later
Where are we?
Hush!
You told me it was so many hills away
Or this many Neil Diamond songs
And sang to me “You Are My Sunshine”
Although it was out of tune
And you don’t remember
I still hum it sometimes
When I’m distracted
*Are we there yet?