Sometimes I think, I don't answer your messages
just because I don't know what I want to write to you
besides
that I would prefer not to have to write
and instead
want to be
with you.

i don't write
poems
anymore
the words
are not
in my head
to be written
to be said
they are not
in my heart
to be etched
upon the page
they no longer
linger
upon my tongue
whispering
to be sung..
the space
they once
poured from
that hole
within my chest
has been

.. healed?

and
i find
i do not
write
poems
anymore..

not
any
more

i find
myself living
instead

I will regret this in the morning
but I will do it anyway
my impulsivity often overpowers my conscience
yet I am almost always fully aware
of the decisions I make
and their consequences
I am not exactly mentally stable
but I am sane enough
to know right from wrong
yesterday from today
love from lust
although sometimes I mix them up
I have a tendency to lunge at any pair of arms that open for me
my mind and body often disagree
my body saying yes to eager hands
my mind saying no
constantly looking towards my heart
thinking how stupid one must be
to fall repeatedly
get hurt every single time
and still manage to do the same
over
and over
again
I wonder
how many times I will have to hit the ground
in order to learn to stop falling face first?
I often say things
that should be left unsaid
I often do things
that should not be done
sleep in beds unfamiliar
make believe love to strangers
get to know people who will not remember me tomorrow
I am gone as quickly as the hangover
I can be washed off the tongue
just as quickly as the liquor
I often believe I am capable of inciting change
I kiss temporary lips with permanence
hoping that I can train them to stay
I love temporary people with permanence
hoping that I can train them not to leave
and when they do
I claim to have seen it coming
I am incapable of forgetting
a scrapbook memory of skin and heartbeat
of touch and moments
I know not to look directly into eyes
for they can be blinding
and I still
do it anyway
I know of the risks that shouldn't be taken
well aware of their consequences
and I still
take them anyway
you could say
it is my own fault
for the way that things continue to turn out
but I can make no promise of apology
instead
I will live momentarily
**** up intentionally
love recklessly
fall unguarded
break enough times to learn how to put myself back together
crash into concrete enough times to learn how to shift a crooked smile
into something worth seeing
I have been told that a life lived in fear
is hardly a life lived at all
so I intend to live every second
like it is the last one I will have
I will write each night as it happens
narrate my own stories
and hope they turn out okay
I will regret this in the morning
but I will do it anyway.

panic rises again
I'm an ******* and I know that.
truth
was never one of my strengths
not even
towards myself.

I yearn for cernity
but I don't really trust it
for I am too afraid
of pain I'd have to face.
The pain that I'm causing everybody else by that is simply another truth I won't accept

a beer would be nice
maybe five would be better
I regret this

intensely