I can barely open my front door
inches of snow occupy my front porch
the white is so bright
I have to wear sunglasses to see outside
even though it's the middle of the night
and the sun is not in the sky
this is a rare moment in time
when you can be blinded by the moon light
everything seems surreal and sharp
the dry snow flakes strikes my face like glass shards
as it penetrates my skin, I notice my heart
leaned up against the wall, happy but broken into parts
as loving as life can be, it can be just as harsh
and knowing this necessary balance gives me power
The dinosaurs disappeared around the time of the first flower
therefore, when beauty ends, beauty begins
the end doesn't exist, the universe continues to change  
and is always expanding outward

I let the flame of my lighter
dance around until the metal turned red
then I pushed it into my hand
and watched as the skin bubbled
I couldn't feel it
but I knew it felt wonderful
moving like a machine
I'm wearing holes in my carpet
sitting still, the thought alone is haunting
I have to feel alive
every moment that I'm alive
and I have to realize
that I could die
at anytime
all the time

are you going to wait by the car door until I open it?
are you expecting me to pull out the chair before you will sit?
because that will make you a lady and I'm into that ****

are you going to finish all that you order
without thinking of me judging you?
are you going understand why I don't try to kiss you
and not assume that I have no feelings for you?
because, as a gentleman, I need you to be into that ****

I could never see myself with someone
who would give themselves to me
without wanting to know who I truly am
I feel that a good woman makes you earn it
and I want to earn it, because I'm into that ****

I could be your pile of leaves
whenever I'm around you could jump right onto me
and if ever I'm too far out, you can just use your hands
and I'll come swimming back

you're so beautiful, and lips as sweet as honey dew
I can't help but to keep my eyes open when I kiss you

you look at my loneliness the same way you would an enemy
I feel like you make it a little easier to breathe
and If I'm being too forward
you can just use your hands, and push away from me

I opened my eyes
wrapped in covers, drenched in sweat
and with no surprise
a sore throat and an aching head
I sit on the edge of my bed
used a towel to dry my neck
then I lit up a cigarette

I wipe last nights tears from the corners of my eyes
I can hear the birds sing a song I'd rather not hear
not really in the mood for the piercing sunlight
or anything that reminds me that I'm alive, or that I'm here

how I feel is unclear
I don't have my heart, but it's near
I can hear it's screaming from pain, from fear
that same fear that I have, that I might not see it again

last night
I truly believe
that you slept like a baby
while I
tossed and turned
staring at the ceiling

I dropped three ice cubes in my glass
added three fingers of cognac
then I threw it back
poured another and leaned up
against the counter
and let out a deep breath
I know who I am
but I'm still figuring out how

there is a knock at my door
I'm not sure I want to answer it
could be anyone, anyone I don't want to see
or someone, someone I want to see, or family, so I open it
and she, with her hair and face
stood there, a partial smile
with a certain pain in her eye
she always knew when it was best
for her to show up, she had perfect timing

she sat down on the floor
as I fixed her a drink
she told me that life is magical
but there is white and black magic
and life isn't any different
she spoke of intense drinking
and constant, hollow loneliness
with the feeling of ambition
but she knew that something was missing
and at the time
the familiarity of it all
was too much for me
and I dropped her drink
the glass broke violently and sudden
the opaque cola took shape
as two blobs of darkness
on the floor
she laughed at me
and called me drunk
I called her weak
headed for my room as she followed me

it's been months since I've been social
and loneliness to me is as rare
as a four leaf clover
I've grown accustomed to talk with myself
alcohol and interesting conversation
just like I was anyone else
I sit in the dim light of my desk lamp
thumbing through a photo album
with old pictures of my family
I found in the storage last month
I  flipped to a photo of my parents
my mom as beautiful as she could be
and my dad with a smile on his face, looking down at me
I turned the page to find a silhouette of them
two blobs of darkness
they were like two birds
that made a nest
I head to the kitchen for a drink
there are no words for how I feel
nor a reality for the things I think