i can't touch my temples
without
excruciating pain

i can't draw in a breath
without
pounding pain in my upper chest

i can't pull myself out of a chair
without
my legs feeling weak and jelly-like, unreliable and about to buckle

i can't walk down the hallway
without
everything spinnng, spinning, spinning oh how disoriented i am

i can't lay my head down for more than a second
without
my heavy eyelids forcing themselves shut and my brain cutting off

i can't
focus
concentrate
motivate myself

i can't get through the day
without
exerting every bit of the fragile energy in my body i have that day

every day is a chore
every day i have to push and grapple with symptoms upon symptoms that will not go away and continue to increase in number

each day i collapse on my bed and force back leaking tears
caused by
the constant pain and aches that overrun my body
caused by
the inability to want to do anything other than sleep to rid myself of this neverending fatigue
caused by
the mental fog that just won't lift

i can't stop shaking
from
this constant anxiety

my body is breaking itself down
and i
i am helpless to stop it

i am
i am
i am

i can't
i can't
i can't

From the blossom of your lips
Your pearly whites peak.
Your eyelashes slowly close
From the tilting of your head.
Your hands are fragile branches
On my neck they tremble
On a clock the moments passed
But it remains forever inside us.

We live in cigarette smoke and shadows and uncontrollable laughter; in music, and in the way the wood floor creaks and shakes the whole house even when you walk lightly on it.
We live in cold basement walls and staircases lined with blue neon lights.
We live in confusion and my fingers pressing into your skin and the way you would wrap all of yourself around me while I ****** you.
We live in the ***** moments followed by the sweet ones where you would kiss my forehead and I could feel your warm body slide up against me in the middle of the night.
The most I remember of those days was bundling up in layers and walking outside through snow up to our knees just to get to Williamson road under the setting sun just so we could get a pack of cigarettes.
The sky was dark blue and it reminded me a lot of your eyes.
I remember waking up to the sound of guitars upstairs and the way you nodded your head and lost yourself in the melody of your own music.
I would watch your fingers-- the way they would pluck the cords and slide over the instrument so effortlessly.

And you look at me from across the room and for a moment, I'm at a loss for words

so I just smile.

This time last year my poetry was happy,
****.
Words flooding through me with a witty charm
A newness
A new man had danced into my life.
I wrote in my phone the other day:

"Is it possible to be obsessed with your ex-lovers?"

I don't know. Possibly.
I think I have been.
I do.
Dragging things out with you and you
Trying to feel like I am not the one left behind
How many times will I try?
This has got to be it

My hair is a tangled mess
Mama and I are awkward now
She told me she saw a movie
A mother and daughter stopped talking for 10 years
It happens, we both replied
Why do I feel like I am in literal hell?
I should start my day
But a heaviness and ache in my heart
From how we left things
How are ever really going to be friends?

I need more coffee.
More sleep.
And to really and truly
Let you go.

bold glitch grip
you've been colored violent by It
code writ scrapes
large like star whorls flake

one solitary chromium petal fell
into a river with a mien of mum
where it wilted
filled with ****

and you watched it come from afar
you saw the small sun become runny
don't lie

dear scar
you must collect yourself or
the ruin of ars
will still
what is ours
into petrified mime

i want you.
you,
it is you that i want.
i no longer crave pleasure of my own flesh,
or sweet snacks in the middle of the night
not even my tired eyes crave sleep.
my one most painful and ardent craving is for you.

and i long for the breaking waves of the sea
because they remind me i have bones
that are as fragile as the white foam against rocks.

i remind myself of the pulsing of the earth
because it reminds me of my beating heart
that is yet to begin the apocalypse of my soul.

i think about your hair
and how your curls tangle on my fingers
as if none of them want to let go of one another.

your hands,
which bring me such satisfaction
just by the thought of them
and what mess they could turn me into
if you simply let them stay by me
along with the rest of you
and what a beautiful mess i would be.

You always make me do this, you know?
I don’t ever give a **** if anyone responds to me,
but whenever you stop talking to me I get so frustrated.
It’s like I have to remind you of my presence,
Everyone else remembers me with vivid clarity.
But you don’t,
It’s like you’re looking at me through the bottom of a soda bottle
And then you forget what you’re looking at and stop caring.
Maybe you are the one who turned me into a poet and made me miss people.
Because you offer to come see me
Or you send me a message
And then you never say anything else
And I send you message after message with no response.
And then I cry,
And get angry,
And get furious,
And then I write.
Then I want to be drunk,
So drunk I won’t remember who you are.
So drunk I start to look at you from the bottom of my bottle of whiskey.
So drunk I won’t feel bad sending you the seven messages I’ve already sent you with no answer.
I think you may have a girlfriend,
So I hope you don’t come to town.
Because if you come and sit down to have coffee with me
You probably won’t leave until you have my tears or my love bites,
And if you have a girlfriend I don’t want you to have either.
I’m not sure if you’re real,
Because I’m beginning to realize we are both looking at each other
From the bottoms of bottles.