There are cannibals in my bed eating
the crumbs inside my head
the crumbs that you left
upon the ground
the things we kept
unsaid
(or said)
either way there was
no sound
entering or exiting
your lips as they danced
entirely still
wonderfully entranced
enigmatic notes struck
on the chord
of feeling and thinking
I am painfully bored
enthralled and excited
hands rolled in corridors
with tobacco droplets
and simple syrup
drowning the thought
of your features
that resemble canyons and hills
i forgot our love
is hibernating in the skin
of a tree in the mountains
outside of sedona
and i forgot the way the pinholed
stars sang to us
and i forgot the way
our hands became one
but it lingers
and it vibrates
it reminds me
of a fold in the fabric
the way it was eternal
yet fleeting
forever
but not nearly long enough

I am writing these words
To rid you from my bones
Because you have carved your face into my head
And burned holes in my hands

I no longer wish for you to tag along
In my thoughts
You are a parasite that feeds off of my soul
And this darkness is begininning to hurt

My body is tying knots around my insides
The rope is turning me blue
I have never hated anything
As much as I do you

My heart is collapsing under the weight
Of your memory
I desperately want to hollow out myself
To scrape away the residue that you left me

I am so tired of trying around people
Forcing myself to throw up these words
That hold no meaning

And it's like a plastic wrap shield
That completely suffocates me
Keeps everything in
Without letting anything in

I'm trying to break free
But I don't think I will ever
Escape my own skin

window leaning on an old book the cold winter air
spilling into the room like it has been waiting for years
for this moment, starless sky and illuminated hands
colored blotches speaking in the hushed tone of
unobtrusive shades
there is a single cigarette packed away in the stories
and trinkets, it is whispering sweet nothings
in my ear

and you
you have been lurking in the hallways
your hands, thumbprints, lips
etched into the window glass
so every time i look to see the world
you will be there

Your bittersweet presence
brushes chalk dust across my skin
because i desire you here
but i think that is all

exhaust pipe dreams, gas encrusted
diamond rings
"maybe you're just taking it too personally"
words sharper than the knives
the edges perforated and willing

how can i not take something personally
when you are talking to only me
I understand that you don't know
who you are
but that is no excuse
to treat me
like a speeding ticket
you forgot to pay

i locked you away in my filing cabinet
after today
because not only did you
cauterize your fingerprints
but you erased your
name from my skin
it's like
you weren't here at all

finally we are no one
i am sitting in a room
plastered with
humans
yet
i
feel
so
alone
singular atom
one strand of DNA
not enough to
make anything
do anything
be anything
you made me feel everything
do something
and i did one thing
and it achieved nothing
second hand
counting backwards
cranking it's hours
until there is
only minutes
but even then
it's still 60 seconds
and each tick is a bomb
that has yet to detonate
if you leave
i will detonate
but you can't stay
or I will tie my body
to yours
and throw us both
into the water

letting the sharks
dissemble us like
an assembly line caught
in the VHS tape rewinder
film strung by branches
that I used to call home
shopping carts are the
planters to these trees
and sometimes in the
dirt I find reasons to leave
but you stomp them
out and they
starve
empty
and you look at me
but there is no remorse in your eyes

the other day a well respected friend of mine
asked me why i smoked cigarettes
as i was sparking up to light one

i was slightly taken aback by this question
and i never really thought about why
so my immediate response was,
"it’s just something to fill my time with",

but upon further introspection
i realized i smoked because
it was a slow suicide
not abrupt,
but long and drawn out

and i am too afraid to **** myself
quickly

Rain is stampeding your car, a misty haze indulging the sky
eating the buildings, and the neon lights
break with every misspoken word
that fumbles off my lips
But your silence is solicitous
because you know how it feels to love
and to be unrelenting with this dedication
but it is futile because just like the neon lights
it crumbles and burns out and you are here with nothing
but the consonants and vowels left unscathed
and delirious, jumbled in a pattern only the universe comprehends
but it is night and the rain will continuously fall
despite willing it not to
and you will persist to stay bound in your provincial
mindset, despite willing you not to
i will always be analyzing my brain sequences
because i am that science project that slipped your mind
that 5 dollar bill you misplaced
i am all of those desolate nights spent
staring at your stucco ceiling waiting for it
to blink or move or say something audible
it never does and it never will
and the audacity she believes she possesses
churns my head into an excuse to whisper
all those passive things
subtle seasonings that sprinkle on your eyelids
like lavender dust
the pit of my stomach is darkening, waves shatter the tranquility
because i know the storm is imminent and i can not
fathom how to protect everyone
from the sick grasp of the abhorrent events
that are about to choke your eardrums

I am having a terribly difficult
time writing poetry
because all my hands talk about
is you
tracing rib cages
with dried flowers
sap infused fingers
from 6 ft trees
but we climbed them
anyway
but not really
because we haven't
that doesn't mean we can't though
Is it possible to love someone you
never met
yes
because it's happening
the idea of you
makes me happy
despite what you say,
that is a necessary word,
so just imagine
what the tangible
you will do to me
God ******
we will
erase the laws of
physics when our atoms touch
thunderstorms will
be our love songs
and when we kiss
(i hope we kiss)
the sun will
eclipse into
a beautifully dim
day
like it was made for just us
**** the distance
**** me
let's go fall asleep
and dream about
chimney bricks and river rocks
and wake up
next to each other
*******
my hands won't shut up about you

the curtains in this room are shut
but there is sunlight spilling out from under
and around them
it’s like the world
wants me as much as
I wish I wanted it

the last time we spoke I
forgot to use vowels
and i blamed it on
bad reception,
but it was really just me
your words live
with the dust particles
floating in
negative space -
I breathe you in,
but don’t notice

i decide to keep the curtains closed
at least for today
it’s the only thing i can do
to keep your ghost away

open your car door,
light up a cigarette
i say there’s something special
about cigarettes, but I don’t know what
unbuckle seatbelt
you tell me it’s the way you
are prolonging a suicide
it’s like the world is watching you
jump off a bridge,
but not do anything about it
because the fall is slow
i laugh and don’t say anything

leaving your house at 3 am
you tell me not to die
because the roads are bad
and I can barely drive
I snap at you and say
don’t tell me not to die
tell me you hope
it’s instant

on top of a parking garage
my feet almost froze
and i looked at you
and thought to myself
that you are the type of person
i would write poems about not
being able to write poems about
and i wanted to go home
but decided to stay

you did not kiss me goodbye
but, neither did I
unbuckle seatbelt
you asked if i wanted another cigarette
i shook my head and left
you pulled out of the driveway
i hope it’s instant

it took me 7 cigarettes and two cups of the blackest coffee to get over the fact that
2 months ago you ****** my best friend,
but I assured you I was,
am, not mad.
If anything I was happy
that you could finally say it.

I am regressing back to old habits that I thought I broke
and my Dad told me to say my prayers,
but I am too scared to tell him I gave that up
Everything seems foreign to me and
I can't sleep without my door locked.

You took a drag of your cigarette
a drag so long i got rug burns
on my eyes
you could have sunken a ship
with the way you burnt
your lungs and I feel so bad
for you.

the embers were blazing
reflections in your eyes
tired in from all the worrying
my fingers are stained black
and there are needle ******
all over my body
ash and the stingy
linger from past words
floating in front of your face
like a ghost that you can't quite see
but he ****** my friend
and i ****** him
and he ****** me up

there is nothing in my bones
there is nothing left for you
i threw out all of the leftovers
it all went bad
the refrigerator is empty
besides for beer and dog food
so i shut the door and go to bed
but somehow i still feel like i ate too much
i hunch over the toilet
and throw it all up
the cards are all out on the table
and i was dealt the perfect hand
but i missed my opportunity to win

I'm not even sad anymore
I'm just ******* angry
a house built on hot coals
its bound to burn down
god i wish i was sad
(or dead)
this is too destructive
and we don't have the money
to rebuild it all

I.
when i see your face it is almost
like i am staring through a
tinted car window
and whenever i think of you all
I see is a decaying brick wall
i was never able to pass through
and I have come to that breaking point
where I will never get
anywhere with you.
Forgive me for
completely abandoning you
pulling away
moving on
but understand you made me do it.

II.
You ****** me and expected me
not to fall in love.
When I told you I was falling,
you did not even bother to
say goodbye.
I have hated many people in my lifetime
for petty stupid reasons
I don't think  really hated them at all.
I have tried to mend our shortcomings
but I can not bring myself to respect
someone like you.
You threw me away
and left me at a concert
while holding my best friends hand.
Forgive me for
hating you
but understand you made me do it.

III.
The idea of you was enticing
I really thought I loved you,
but etched letters in trees
and sad songs were not
enough to make me stay.
i am sorry
I wish things were different
and I wish I was not
such a hypocrite.
Forgive me for hurting you
but understand that
you had nothing to do with this.

IV.
15 was too young to lose my innocence
Or to have it stolen from me
Justifying your actions
with my commitment
and total naiveness.
It has been so long since I was seen you
you're touch has faded
and voice is muddled.
I wonder
if you are the same
Forgive me for leaving you
But understand you made me do it.

Crumbled pillars tell the story of strength and perseverance
They tell the story of grave defeat
And the remnants from the weakest link

I am there
Like a dove on a wire
Forget the past comes with baggage
Inhale the sawdust from my hands

Want to be dirt with me?
Insignificant and everywhere
We can disperse into the holes
Left awry in the cages of our chests

Tell me do you want to
Scrape away the poison words
Those insidious parasites
That feed off your intelligence

You are not as important as you deem to be
Be careful
Your honesty is showing

*******
ribs piercing through my porcelain flesh
black hole stomach, intestines empty
like your words
talking to bugs on my ceiling
they tell me to throw it all up
i know you are lying
lie to me harder, darling
food tastes more like disease
and i like it
i like it
i crave for it
give me your vacant eyes
cradle me in your contagious skin
break my bones, cracking with pleasure
but what they don’t know
is that the bags under my eyes are designer
I know everything you don’t want me to
It’s now or never, baby
I figured out you’re a liar
why don’t you tell me how it is
burning fire melting the skin off my face
just like that time he asked me if i liked it
and i said yes
so he sliced open my chest
and poured salt water in the wounds
oh how i liked it

i am a phantom
a shadow of my carcass from yesterday
I only exist in your perception of me
but truth be told
in the entirety of your whole ******* life
you failed to realize
that i am more than just a body
you don't just buy a shell
and expect it to eat and drink
you buy the turtle
who will wear the shell, and give it the
the life it needs to move

i have dreams of slicing open my skin
and rays of light ooze out of me instead of blood
my existence depends solely on
my concious
but your existence depends
on my perception of you
without me you would destruct
without you I would be nothing but a fold
in the fabric of space
an idea at best
but most likely an unknown
force that guides the wind through your hair

every moment is a paradox,
a contradiction
because what is the point
when all life really is
is prolonged death - romanticized

the answer can not be fabricated, or known
only pondered
and it is within the pondering,
that you realize this:

it's 3 in the ******* morning
i need sleep
and these words have endless meaning
but I'm never going to find an answer
and I'm craving a grilled cheese

there are bullets zipping
past
inside
into my head
i wish there was
a bullet
blowing up my
head
i can not think straight
because
i misplaced my ruler
and my depth perception
is now all ****** up too
because i can not measure
without my ruler
and my legs
are bricks
and i am trying to chip
them apart
but i keep tearing
apart my fingernails
the brick is too
wicked for
soft hands
and desperate intentions
my intestines are empty
with all the food
i did not eat
i wish i ate
but its too late now
and the *******
remote is missing
its probably with the ruler
i can't change the channel
and its stuck
on some stupid
mtv show,
why doesn't "music television"
play music
anymore

I write until I have wrung out every drip
of a thought
until there is absolutely nothing left
to say
until even the driest deserts
seem prosperous in comparison

your face is stuck somewhere
in-between truth and
logical fallacy
I can not decide if you
were a dream
or something of substance

now my hands seem more
like mirror reflections
than of flesh and blood
I am afraid I have
written the life from
my veins

I want to smoke the rain
until my lungs gasp for air
until my hands turn blue
and instead of blood
I will have water sifting
through my veins

so when you hold me tight
I can drown you in the fog
that consumes me
entirely and thoroughly
and even though our
physical realm has crumbled
may our dream realities
coexist
and intertwine
like wool yarn,
knitting socks for
all the questions I
remembered not to ask

“How can you fall in love so easily?”

or more importantly,

“How can you just stop?”

We had recovering drug addicts come in
Talking to us with their sunken
Ashy eyes
And sweaty palms
You could tell they were nervous by the
Way they carried themselves
Cinder blocks and
Broken piano parts
And their pasts
All clinging to them,
For life support
They talked about how easy
It was to let gravity eat you alive
As you are falling into a black pit
You can’t stop the falling
Their wings were bound to
Pseudo lovers who
Gave them bruised arms
And blue fingers.
If you are lucky enough to
Escape the clenched hands of
Addiction,
The rest of your life will
Be a walking tightrope act
Trapeze dancers
One slip and you are falling
Even faster
Harder than before.
And your family, friends,
Everyone you have ever known is
In the audience watching you
Fall into your premature grave
And there is nothing they can do
But tell you to fly
But you cant
Because you just love your
Mistress too much
To ever let her go.
And they warned us about
How hard it might be to say no
To not let the circus come into
Town, but if you do
Only you can pack up the
Lions, clowns,
Colorful balloons.
Someone asked them if they
Believe drugs should be legalized
And he responded with
If I walk into a gas station
And see drugs for sale I will
Not be able to hold myself
Upright.
But I also do not want a government
Establishment to tell me what I can
And cannot ingest into my body,
So I don’t know.
Newton’s First Law of Motion
States that something will keep moving
Unless some force acts upon it.
And once you start drugs
Or gambling
Or skipping meals
it will progressively
Worsen in time.
Festering in bloodstreams
Until you decide to stop it.

You are driving your car
Feet up on the dashboard
Illuminated drops of rain
Racing down your window
Drumline marching ontop of the roof
Dusty warm air blowing
In my face
Melting off the doubts
That were plastered over my eyes
Rennaisance twirling on
My tongue and I want
To tell you as you
Drive through the
Dark
*That I am happy

flying in an airplane at night
she looks out her window, thousands of miles up
the glass fogs at her warm breath
and the lights from the ground below are a reflection of the stars
in the moment of the planes droning hum
she believed she was in space
completely alone
solitude
and a tear rolled down her dewy face
because she did not want to touch the ground
ever again

"i'm only saying this because I care" -
*******
                     He told me I don't pick up on social cues,
                     basically I am a glorified vegetable.

"you're so much better than that"
 * but I can not recall a time when I was...
                    
                     I'm no longer afraid of the dark.
                     I think it's because that's all I see.

plato's ******* cave

"stop being so rude. You make people uncomfortable"
                
                     *how can I stop when my eyes refuse to work
                     I just don't notice it.

                    {Am I not good enough?}
                     I thought things were going to be okay

                    all my friends hate me
                    all my friends are giant *****
                                                           ­             I need better friends

{Maybe it's them not me}

rope strung around each finger tied to the substances you have faithfully
pledged your existence to
but these knots and strings are pointless
when point b does not reciprocate with point a

you have devoted your emotions to a pseudo relationship
built upon the crumbling granules of sugar and all things sweet
but sweetness only gets you so far
before your teeth begin to rot

i have taken a butter knife to my collar bones
and sliced away at the sick residue left over
from all the attachments
the terms and conditions that i vacuously accepted

or maybe i just don't understand how you could call this happiness
tediously worshipping these obsessions
you're losing your sense of self
touch with reality and what really
is alive

I have the most unsettling feeling trembling inside me
It is not so much an emotion, but some type of cruel paradox
That can most accurately be described like this:
I am silently full of din
Yet when I feel compelled to be productive, my body shuts down
Like a power plant, whose cords have been violently frayed
I am unstably happy despite my infamous droning sadness
Of which exists only when given permission
But such authority has no name
I want to die with such life
And live as if I am dead
Which is nonsense nonetheless
Nurtured by my inconsistent head

All i find myself deeply caring for is

the discovery of new poetry

a cigarette on my roof at 12:43 am

the ink inside this pen, the paper underneath my hands

and that shoes inside the dryer noise

within my chest

and for some reason, nothing else sticks to me

it rolls off my skin like water on windows

puddling in front of my feet

darling, you don’t matter - maybe in someone else’s eyes

but in mine, you just don’t matter

*don’t take it so personally

you asked me to explain to you why it is this way
and i trudged through swamps and fought my way through damp jungles
to find this poisonous answer
but I all seemed to discover were the delicate scars dancing up my arms
and the reasons for why I should've just locked you away

you knew the answer all along
it has been hiding with the dirt underneath your fingernails
fabricated throughout the fibers in your bones
shame on me for gazing into your eyes;
seeing vapid intentions, but expecting fertility

i had a dream i was drowning in a pool of black and white
you shone flashlights on me expecting the light to somehow
diminish this infinite night
you stood there, watching my veins overflow
with a lack of oxygen
just as if I were putting on a show

that is not too far from reality
apply the inverse property
calculate it, the answer is actuality
your heart is a machine
and your brain is a pump
it doesn't take the geometric mean
to figure out you were just a speed bump

i warned you about my habit of hating
people are insidious creatures dedicated to breaking
and maybe you should of thought of that before we were dating
then maybe my love for you i would not be forsaking

i opened up to you, you saw all the bruises
the blues, blacks, and reds formed a painting inside
you picked me apart and thought of excuses
but its clear to me i came second to your pride

I'm not an object you can use then dispose
Im a ******* human being
and if you still don't understand that let me propose -
I'm the rose and you're the thorn
you aren't good for my wellbeing

call me bitter and everything in-between
but at least I know what it means to feel
this isn't a play stop putting up a scene
we can all see through your egotistical ordeal

i guess i'm just trying to say
you burnt me to the ground
threw what we had away
but life will grow from ashes, the dust is not bound
and lighting things on fire
that's just child's play
you threw what we had away

The wrinkles in my hands
Map out dream constellations
Pathways to the locked off
Rusty cage
Which resides in the pit of
my chest like a cherry

Driving in your car
Speeding
Light is dancing over our skin
Licking your face and eyes
And the dark night sky sits
On top of us
But here we are and
I'm writing with no filter and it's not making much sense but
The night compliments your features
And I just want to tell you
How much
I really care
And I don't want to go home and I want to be driving with you forever
Because your scarf is soft and your voice tastes like sugar

Don't take me home
And when I cross my eyes
The lights and headlights are fuzzy
And my vision is skewed
But you are here and solid
Tangible
Nothing like those fuzzy lights

Dashed lines on the road
Make my heart sink because I know that it means we are going home
And I don't want to


I'm tired and want to fall asleep in your lungs

Transaction of glancing eyes
God knows why yours chose mine
Lovers in another life
Buried in an ancient shrine

Across the room we pay our respects
To the possibilities the future holds
Lurking in sea ship wrecks
Lips so warm but blood so cold

History books, maps, and scrolls
Our past encrypted in every word
Breath entwined inside two souls
Valuable, broken, then cheaply sold

Illuminate my eyes with impossible outcomes
oh, my imaginary solidarity
someday our angles will tangle
and we will be rounded
worn down to sawdust
from the friction of
rubbing elbows
but not today
no not today

I wanted to be the sky
I wanted my molecules to
terminate and permeate
into mush
I wanted many things
that I could not have
and looking down upon
this sewer city with
lights and rain puddles
I realize how far
from the ground I am
how far from the ground I
have come

sandy shores and seashell hands
i'm struggling with the idea
of rolling up my trousers
tucking away the clean fabric
or letting the dust collect
onto the seams and hems
into the creases
around my eyes
I do not want those things
that I can not contain

and I see myself free-falling upwards
into the ocean of seaweed and pearls
if only I dared more
if only I tried

oh I wanna try

lets have them write books about
how we loved each other so much
that we couldn't stand it
so ******* much
that we did not know what to do with it
so we did nothing
at all

i am too self destructive to love
anyone but myself
and my misery
oh sing me to sleep
and wrap me in the dark
second best
always last
it's better this way

“Love does not exist”

“Love is ****”

“Love is just a word that we make up in our heads to fill our infinite emptiness”,

Is what I say to myself. As if I could drill these beliefs into my head, subliminal messages to soothe my cracked and flaking heart.

These lungs are my own personal generator fueling my skull

Turbines working overtime

Maybe love is the only tangible idea within this existence

Maybe I am just scared

So I bury the idea under the earth, waiting for the tree roots to weave themselves throughout my love

And sprouting a small, delicate oak tree. And one day, it will grow.

And like all flowers or trees, this seed will need water

and plenty of sunshine

waiting

what am I waiting for

I'm never good enough

my words are vacuous

I pretend they aren't

I act like they mean something beautiful but my words are empty and you can try to wring them out

hope that some meaning drips from the dried out shell

but I can promise you they are useless

and how do you expect me to be okay with myself when the only way I am given to communicate is faulty and the connection is bad

I speak like the static on tv channels, hardly any singal

and the fuzziness dominates over the show

it would probably be best if you change the channel, because the connection is lost

I am so lost, and coming after me is of no use

I'm already far too gone

drifting in and out of sanity

in and out of those static channels

if you come after me youll just become lost too

I'm a disease, I'm contagious

just turn back while you still can

Today my hands are purple.
I quit my job.
I gave a tattoo to a friend.
I was driving home through the night,
and thought about driving
straight off the road and into a tree.
I almost did,
I’m not sure if I’m glad I didn’t.

warm black coffee syrup
down my esophagus
it's a shame
you kinged me when you did
because i have more to offer
than those sweet mint nights
out in those cars
and as much as i wish
i knew how to whisper
to the bees,
I'm glad I can't
I'd rather keep the sting a mystery

I hate to sleep in my own bed-
it is already filled with ghosts
and everything plastered on my walls
is a reminder of everything
i have failed to achieve

your elbow excites me
because the angles
tell me stories of when dew
settled on grass

but those stories are
strictly for my dreams

the time spent hoping
for rain has been futile.
With each minute passing
second hand tumble our
memories become reduced
to questions, so as I’m
waking up in taxi cabs
wondering where the sky
went, I’ll think of your
lips ******* cancer and
your fingers holding
your future like a
crystal ball fortune
gypsy screaming “these
coming days will be
hard! Your lungs will
collapse and your heart
will turn to stone!”
But you smile and cough
and I imagine you
crying when I say
there is nowhere to go
from here. And now the
taxi man is demanding
a location, but I only
can give him snapshots
with sun-faded ink
cursive and he kicks me
out so I walk home
and try to sleep and
in the morning I forgot
what I did and who I
saw so I didn’t even bother
saying goodbye

we drove through vacant parking lots trying to recover our lost luggage

the moon reflected off the gray asphalt making the *** holes look like craters

and your voice stung my skin when it broke the silence

because the interior has been worn down by all my angles

I was drowning in all the things I couldn’t say

for a second i felt greedy because

here I was choking in an ocean of thoughts

and there you were parched, searching for anything

any word at all

if this is what the surface of the moon feels like-

streetlights glowing on my hands, making a kaleidascope

of patterns and shapes-

then I still would never want to go

if it meant draining your bones until they are brittle

until they are nothing but dust piled in my hands

there is a second stomach
and it is where words and sentences go
when you swallow them
instead of saying them out loud
And this process has become such
a mundane and common routine
that my second stomach is
overloaded with ugly
and unforgiving words
and if I am not careful
I will ***** all over you

Recently I have not been eating
I like how it feels
Wasting away
I want to become so frail that I sway in the wind
And disappear like the little burs from dandelions
Yesterday the cold infected my bones
and numbed my fingers
The icesicles in the air scraped my lungs,
But I liked it
Am I a ******* or am I
Mentally ill?
My suicide note is starting to resemble
The coffee I obsessively drink,
And the ink on my skin fading along with my chances
With him
The only way you're ever going to make a difference is if
Your name is in a textbook and children
Are popping bubbles and sticking the gum
In the pages
Is there a part of me that wants to hold onto life?
Why else would I write down my intentions?
If I was completely set on ending things
I would not need to write them down
They would fester in my mind comfortably
But these thoughts seem to fit very awkwardly
Inside my head
Then again,
What's the point in waiting?

stale cardboard pizza boxes and
smoke ashy lungs are the most accurate
phrases to describe this summer
and i say that while laughing
to myself, home alone,
at the dining room table
but it really isn't funny
its ******* pathetic
and if you haven't noticed
I'm wearing all black again
and if you haven't noticed
i think i'm sad again

i just want some cigarettes
but i have no money
i just want to get away
but i have nowhere to go
and i just want to be okay
but I'm not
so i sit here writing out my
internal sadness onto paper
like it'll patch up the busted pipes
all it does is publish it front page
for all to see
this just in
i'm angry at the world
and no one cares
(why should they)

don't tell me its just teenage angst
or my hormonal emotions acting up
if i feel it then it is real
and if its real then why would you try
to tell me otherwise
because i have one hand on the trigger
and the other in my pants
or in your pants
or in this bag of chips
and its delicious

its like i just realized how ****** up
everything is
and i think id rather be rejected by the
opinions of man than
the natural order of the earth
so to hell with this place
and by this place i mean you
heres some rocks to fill your pockets
and ill watch as you walk into the river
just following everyone else
no second opinion
we are all afraid to speak

so i guess this is me speaking

dusty books are keeping secrets
and their leather bound skin
smells of that time in the summer
when i stood over the dam
contemplating

pages crisp like rice paper
the ink inside smears
because i no longer have
the words to say

carve my body into
your wooden canoe
sail me
like a makeshift craft
into the center of
the storm
i want to chip and fall apart
to the crack of thunder
and your syrupy voice
peeling apart
my insides

tell me something I don't already know
like what is inside
the thousands of books
archived and lost
in the libraries
of your head

gut my organs
with your sharp
unforgiving words
like no matter how much
**** i smother onto my face
I will never be pretty
enough
No matter how much I
starve and throw up
I will never be good enough
and how my writing is too
mediocre.

and when I finally decide
that enough is enough
i'll realize it's never enough
it's never enough for you
taking portions of
my sanity
until there is insanity
holding my hand
with your acid
fingerprints
ghost recollections
of 1 year ago when
instead of you
it was him
and it was ok.

And instead of you it's me
it's always been me
devilish chants
over and over
trudging through thick
hot tar to arrive at
the finish line
but you
I
have bounded my ankles
to the start

I can never forgive you
(me)
for that.