Moments of total nothingness,
you don't deserve it, just because you're unknown
Your greatest virtue lies within
your inner dialogue between one
Your audience smiles at your achievements,
as you look into a mirror applauding a reflection
Prolific insight woven and painted by your pen
is sadly wasted, unraveled and sloshed by bias
esoteric and snobbish, the twins of bias,
sit on high poetic mountains of celebrity,
while filing away your non-read thoughts into
deep, deep trashcans

I want someone to notice how far ive drifted how lost i am how tired how dead. I want someone to tell me how the song in my voice once sounded so joyful; feel the drag in my feet, the shake in my hands. No, i dont  want this cluttered mind and I dont want this used body and I shouldnt want to drown in this silence but I dont want to disrupt the hapiness of those around me with a sadness I dont feel entitled to. Pretty white girl and she dont wanna live? More like crazy attention seeking *****. Dont wonder why I isolate. Reason behind sadness is akin to reason behind actions and when all we can do is wrong dont underestimate a cry.

I like to think I have a little moon
behind my lips, that you
could reach in & pluck

and in your eyes, reflecting
the rare bits of light that slip through
the blankets we cover the windows
with

I never know whether to look away
or to let them fade  
in slow-     motion

We were twenty minutes outside
Asheville when we slipped, carelessly
From the edge of the earth
Into an oil painting.

We were, still are really, perpetually
Twenty minutes away when the traffic
would clog, and Michael would blow
Into a tissue; trying to clear both.

Every curve would birth another stretch
Of road, another ridge of mountains, their
Sight not unlike the unlikely vantage of seeing
your shoulders for the first time in film.

Then we’d break again, sure that this was
Some sort of ******* afterlife, full of minor
Inconveniences and signs warning that
‘Bridge ices before road,’
Mocking us in our perpetual summer.