there's half eaten cake here.
remnants of its body
thrown onto small plates,
forks laid atop them.

empty bottles of cider
stand like bowling pins,
one stumble and they'll topple.
(much like us, one stumble and we'd fall).

drunken laughter,
spoken and unspoken admissions
fill the space between
silence and sleep.

and i wonder if years ago,
i hd made a different choice,
if this is still
where i'd be.

salt seas
and cold nights.

narcotics atop sand:
your bellied laughter,
a little dry gin,
the rising sun warming our faces as it wakes the world.

and here with you,
maroon painted and
drunkenly dancing around words,

everything seems so
light.

your soul is dark,
and sullied black
by life.

it must ache
to be so              hollow.

to be so empty.
without substance,
without light.

a pit of mystery,
buried inside of you.
water so murky
a swimmer should not risk,

but boy,
i am drowning.

time takes us
and we let it.

i want to fight it,
but i do not know how.

anger will do nothing to slow it.
but i will still rage, in hopes that it will.
(it’s the only thing i know to do)

when did the flowers
start demanding blood
instead of water?

when did life
start demanding thorns
instead of petals?

i am made of every person i have met,
and every person i will meet.

some are and will be kisses on cheeks,
others are and will be cuts.

i just hope
those that scar will stop pinching as i move.

i’m afraid i am nothing,
without literature, and art.
without words and ink.
without flowers and music.
and most importantly, without you.