My fingertips are runny, they drip and ooze with ink
I keep them tied with garbage bags and drain them in the sink
Shades so dark, they'll break your heart- of those, I do not drink.
If I'm always cleaning up a spill, I don't have to stop and think.

Can I **** another night
Or maybe just myself
All this angers hurting me
Make me ashes on a shelf

There was one last lipstick stained cigarette
In the ashtray
Laced with memories I could forget

Be fierce, little firefly and dance around the dust
In honesty- your glowing's ceased, and life is only lust

We came with the rain,
Down the boulevard-
It's safe to say this year was pretty hard
We buried sons with stars
And my Grannie
In baby blue pjs
With Uno cards.

We made it to the east coast
i saw the ocean, mom.
Dad saw a needle.
My ole man yelled and held my hand

Sometimes I think of the bitterness
That made me just another 'x' on your list
I could've been better
You could've been a lot less of a ******* *****.

We have matching marks
Where paint stains pretty faces
Bright eyed crazy folk
Expelling laughs and chasing stiff laces
We fill poison kitchens with songs
And beg the earth to sing along
Love abandoned us at birth,
But we seem to get along.

I can't even be honest creatively anymore.
She killed him.
I miscarried.
There's a poem in here somewhere,
I just can't tell it to you.

Two weeks ago
The longest trip in my life tapered into calm reality.
Three years of
Craving
And crying
And loving you
The 'sick' way ended.

Life looks so much different
On the wall
Than in a picture

If you knew about my P.D.
And how I still undertake a fifty hour work week.
I graduated early.
I even smile a strangers now, dzia dzie.
We still miss you.
I still hurt.
But life got better.
**Actually ******* better

My voice is soulful gravel
Cleansing crystal
Grinding in my throat
Wailing, whining out
Hoon's Great Escape.

You traced your words in sadness, dear
You dotted 'i's with fear
You casted spells and wondered how you called those demons here
*But I do not want those things again

lashes catch the angel dust,
Tongue sizzles on the sun
He was born to be a mockingbird
He was born without a gun.

What a trip.*
I spent its entirety
Eating anxiety
And smiling at my fears

Blue eyed secret keeper
He held me and was still my reaper
Tequila scythed, taking life with needy fever
I wanted you to love me.
but the broken cannot see.
It's turns out that love is not the only thing I need.

Darling, I am just a painter.
What more could you want?
There's no more that I desire
Than to watch these colours rot.

Take it out on me
So I can give it back
Let me blame you for my *******
While you use what I don't lack.

Your lonely poems used to be of comfort to me,
your new perspective on repeat
was guaranteed to make them bleed
but they're exactly what I need.

Your words are generic,
Your mouth- just a hole.
You can match every syllable
But you can't match this soul.

I will always love
And I will always be taken advantage of
I've got problems with the moon
But I might be over it soon
And over you, too.

I still paint with words and hate the taste
but I'll never take for granted
the ones you waste.

I wanted to die in the trees
Shed my broken skin like ***** ticks and fleas
Have my spirit dog the falling leaves
While branches dip themselves in grief

The days are good, but the nights are cold
and there are always gunna be things out of control
Cant pay rent, but I can pack a bowl
Sometimes I'm sad, but it's not all that I know
Your heart's only as heavy as your mind defines,
you can't keep on your foot on the brake when its time to drive
You gotta rise up
and be floored just to floor it
sometimes life hurts but you just gotta ignore it.

We watched the sun rise
painting rainbow streets
in the color of surprise

All I need
Is fire and a memory.
All you did was brand me.

Time is like snow
Dusting my aching, old bones
You're hardly eighteen!
*I know.

My sadness is an ocean,
My smile is the shortest line.

I don't feel anything
Besides a storm
And the knife between my thighs.
I'm sorry.
I want you.
I want me.
But right now
All I am is bleeding.

I can't say his name without a smoke.
It tastes like ash.
I feel sick.
I wish I could write again.

Go away from me
      I deserve to be unseen
I'm just so
           *******
                    Ugly

And it suits.
That girl is light, and vibrant hints
Of aqua-blues.

My tongue's in knots,
My heart is ice.
*Violence sells-
But so can I.

Glamour cuts
Are not comparable to love
And
Silver isnt sweet.

I spend entire nights awake,
Smoking res and trying not to choke
I swear to god I'm smoking cinders
From my suicide notes
Hearing voices, seeing God
Blowing pictures out of smoke
Sailing from my conscience
In an ash-made boat

Candle-lit it feels nice
Nights
Start to lace themselves with
Cyanide-
Another boy,
Another bed
But jesus ****
The first is still stuck in my head.

Midnight talks,
Spinning words like
Wheels burned out on pavement.

Colours pop
And seep too far into my head
Nauseous blues and greens and reds
Tangle thought
And sit in my stomach like lead

Kids these days-
We smoke our dreams
So out of touch when it comes to reality,
Set up by machines
And cheap manufactured mortality
Tightened at the seams
To choke out thought and what it means,
Shut up, **** up.
Just sit back and hit that green.

”Tell me how you feel,”*
And I didn't say a thing.

If I live to be young
I will sail,
With my tongue,
Away from whiskey and
You
To the sea's deepest blues.

Crimson leaves peek through the mist of morning.
Bright and brittle like me;
They cower and continue hiding.