percussion pounds painfully pleasant
boom ba dum boom
there is a certain rhythm
to the way people speak
skip across the plains of this globe
and you’ll hear it
at times when I am at my most idle
I can find my hands
going rat tat tat rat
we listen to hip hop
the scratching sound of a needle drop
enough to catch the breath at the top of the path
making your heartbeat stop
I always fancied guitars
strumming your pain with my fingers
but instead i found that words
pop pop pop
out of my mouth
like faulty machine gun fire
I’ll be your rhythmic drum for hire
waiting at the tail end
of all your punch lines
ba dum tish
angry kids pound graphite graffiti onto their desks
which say things like
SOS
Mike was here
School *****
for a good time call X Y and Z
make me an alarm clock
tick tocking in the corner
like your personal circadian metronome
see, people like we
don’t need a megaphone
we just open our mouth
when we knock our messages out
and let them find a place to call their own
a home for the percussionist

Awakened in a strangers bed
by a breeze through a skylight
dusting traces of rained-on geraniums
and newly cut grass across my face.

My lips taste like salt-rimmed margaritas
when I lick them and the flames
from giant candles that danced
and flung our mad leaping shadows against the walls
the night before have all blazed out,
cried themselves into waxy puddles
overflowing into a stolen hotel ashtray
full of half-smoked cigarettes.

The comforter slides off,
silk whispering as it pools on the floor
and I am naked beneath,
hips dotted with tiny bruises from fingertips,
hairy belly still sticky with release
and I wonder what possessed me hours earlier
to so savage the worm,
that ridiculous prize
lying at the bottom of a tequila bottle.

I could die of thirst.

I spy our spent casings on the night table and remember.
Thrown clothes, then skin.
Reloading during the battle.
The hot breath of secrets over a white-flag pillow
when the cease-fire came.
Then no sounds at all.
Adrift in a shamble of blankets,
sleepy kisses till dawn.

I hear the shower turn off
and remorse sets in
making me wish hard for mints,
a better memory than this,
the removal from my chest
of that hive of angry bees
grieving a dead queen,
and God only knows who’ll walk
through the door so I brace myself.

Wrapped in sheets, I wait.

In the sky there is a lonely star,
and in my heart there is a starless sky.

With the help of friends and methamphetamines
its been forty-eight hours since I've slept
but I am not tired.

Last night I laid awake on a lovely boy's couch
thinking of the moments we spent together
and I couldn't help but replay them in my brain
over and over,
hoping beyond hope for sleep
and you to share it with.

I guess I didn't see your scars,
blame it on the lighting or the beer,
but I knew they were there.
As my hands felt their way across your beautiful landscape,
I took special care not to rest them upon the raised, pink lines,
not wanting you, for even a moment,
to think the thoughts you thought when you created them.

I would tear my skin wide open,
stretch it across all the seas seven hundred times,
if it meant a single, tiny scratch would never find it's way onto your body with the guidance of your hand, the guidance of your starless night sky of a heart.

the easiest way to tell another of anxiety
is to simply say that it interrupts.

it interrupts your life,
gets in the way of love
and laughter.

Just like a well placed hyphen - anxiety interrupts

I've peered inside what my heart hides in It's cage now
I know that I've made many mistakes for my age, how?
I'm addicted to the touch, to the ****** and the sweat
Darling,
Moan
Would you still love me through all of my regret?
If I let you hold me close, if to you my heart I gave
Would you trust that you're the one I love?
Could I be the the one you want laid on top of your grave?

If I let you kiss my scars and let you occupy my heart
Would you accept the hurt and despair?
Love my soul, and mend all of my broken parts
Pleasure me when that vicious urge for a ****** lingers in my air

I've done some things for pleasure
I've done things to please
wet eyes
"Please, don't ignore me when I'm down on my knees!"
If you knew what it meant, If you knew how I feel
I'm here for you, I'm giving myself..
That deep stinging pain inside is real
Look me in the eye, hold my cheek
Kiss me hard because your knees are weak
And when I swallow both our satisfactions,
Do not question where I learned my actions

There is a past behind me,
I'ts pawing at my memories strands
Help me forget them
Help me warm my cold hands..
Tell me it doesn't matter,
That you have me now and that I'm enough
You want me forever, for me you are tough

When someone disrespects me, will you be there to set them straight
Defend my honor, even my curious past
Fight my battles with me, vow to me that we have a love that will last
Love me even though I think you never could
Give me a love you think I deserve, and for once dear God, let it be a love that is kind, encouraging, and understood.