the authors make themselves welcome in my bedroom to console my aching heart.
I'm down with the flu stuffed up with my feelings for you.
It's better out than in when you spit it out,
have you ever watched a 5 month old baby sleep, then something gets caught in their nose, that soft face turns pink and wrinkled like a pug, the baby holds a breath, about to cry,
that was me last night,
but then the baby's countenance is as peaceful as a cloud
and once you get it out that awkward feeling of release as the congestion subsides,
and I held onto the warm memory of you
to help me get to sleep.

I was outside shoveling horse **** considering the more **** I piled up, the less you'd deal with when you came home.
2.  I woke up every night at 2, unfamiliar to having the bed all to myself, curled around a pillow like a buoy far from shore, sea sick in the choppy water, my vision reduced to abstract smudges. I focused on what must have been your silhouette as I gulped cups of salty water half a mile into the ocean, exhausted and drowning.
3. Medicinal marijuana alleviates  anxiety. I won't swear on depression, I believe, there are four types of depression. Blue dreams are most desirable, every day for 8 months.
4. You've probably seen this desktop orb that captures electrical currents, so when you touch it with your fingers violet bolts ignite against your glass fingerprint. With this light, 2 a.m. I scoop the sandman's hash into my pipe so i can get some rest from my past who caught up to me a few days ago.
5. Dreamer. Heartbreaker. Deep thinker. No harm has come -- to--- you.
6. When it gets dark again, run baby run. Spin around with my eyes on his, reveal the wreck behind my lids, at the thought of losing him, not to another woman, but to Fate. Hold him tight. Make love like you mean it, not to ****, but to tie two hearts together as they bleed. It's bloodstains on the white sheets, two people loved here like death sat by the dinner table, waiting on his appetizer.  
7. The cruel morning illuminates his naked body as he slept. I cried because I didn't know if dreamed of pleasing me. Why did I let things I couldn't control worry me?

Before the wreck, dark purple circles under her eyes,
the hospital bed, recovery, the exile
we enjoyed ice cream on a cloudy day.

She said, before her jaw was smashed down her throat, the semi brake failure, her beloved camera in smithereens in the passenger seat,

“Let’s be happy.”

Carpet sand, it’s hard to dig a hole without a shovel,
seagulls land perfect, shell chips, skinny *****,
I’ll sit on the shore not really knowing any more where the horizon is.

“If only you knew how beautiful you were.”

After the wreck I could not recognize my friend, bringer of Delhi morsels, blunts, the secret
charm bracelet dangles in front of my eyes not mine *** lines
a jade elephant

“I didn't want to break your heart.”


A secret division, how did I perceive the truth, was it The Truth, Who’s IT when everyone comes out of hiding?

"It looks like you've seen a ghost."

**** motives. Evidence. It's the 21st century, every person hides behind a digital encryption, if I wrote this story would any body listen. **** photographers. Poets. Models. Artists bleed.

Does he love you?
Does he love you?
Does he love you?

After the wreck, it was only you in the room. Food for thought but your stomach howled and your heart puked.