I sink
Sank in July
And scrape with my hate
I scraped why
Deep into my sides
Like knives
Falling from the sky
I want them all
To land in my eye
And stab
What's left of my mind
July 5th
You're my sickness
If I had more fists
I'd punch out my own ribs
Blood the color
Of my lipstick
& beg like a liar
With no power
I fly lower
Than ever
& ever
& ever
& ever
& I'll never remember
Why
But I'll always remember
July

I hate planes a lot. Mostly just the cabin pressure. It makes me feel real uncomfortable. Like peer pressure in the 8th grade. The snacks are good. I love complementary trail mix. Reminds me of filthy peanuts in a biker bar somewhere in montana. So here I am one seat away from a new destination. A new place where people know me... Or they don't. Either way I'm surrounded by strangers. Here on one side of me I have a California king. I'm not talking about a mattress here. I mean a man so tan his skin looks like stretched leather on a cowboy boot. Flip flops to match the watch that tells you time, or how much money he spends on accessories. He sits big in his little chair. Like an over filled glass of milk. A tan mark where his wedding ring use to sit. Divorce was spelt out along his confidence. And his MacBook.  And on the other side we have hello kitty. Dropped out of a commercial with zebra print pillows covered in comforted teal stories. An Asian girl. Traveling alone with a mouth full of things she will never tell me. Like " I hate that you hog the arm rest" " I don't like flying" and " where are you from?" We separate ourselves with awkward tension that you can't place in first or last. I'm 3 inches away from two parts of complete that I will never get the chance to know. So I realize this is the closest we will ever be. Me and you. In this space. Sharing this peer pressured air. Stuck between you and a compliment. I will never know what to say in these situations. So I will step of this plane miles away from anything I believe in. I'll drink a beer in the memory of every moment I did not take advantage of. Maybe I can step off this plain at 30,000 feet and fully recognize the brilliance of our time here.

When I was a volunteer fire fighter I found out that when a human being is trapped inside of a house drowning in fire, often they do not burn to death it is the smoke that kills them. My biggest fear is being burned to death.

So what's it like to inhale so much smoke that you quickly become it. You drift through the broken air full of charcoal grays attempting to find anyway out. A floating wish of a better tomorrow.

A window, a vent, a mouth. How much longer must we test the the water slide of convincing cancer. Smoke can lure you in oh too easily. Inviting you. Reaching for you. Holding you.

Boy there are so many thing I would rather be held by. Like koalas. Loosen your grip and follow me away from this place. You deserve better than an empty promise. I know dad conditioned you to eat them up.

But this is a broken promise. One that is going to break a family of two when you break a family of two you end with one. I know you want to feel like mom did, but she should be endured that pain and taught us how hearts can break when perfection is drifted away.

My friend, step off your pedestal. Mercy won't stay with you forever. And you know for a **** fact we don't have forever.
Open the window and flee. Drop your cigarette and grab my shoulder, we're in this together.

So when I realized you are in a house fire. I understand you are not going to die from the fire alone. I get that you will smoke yourself out before I get the chance to save you.

We are fire fighters. Mom taught us, so put our your fire.

I went rummaging through my mistakes tucked under my bed behind the closet. I have skeletons sleeping back there that don't exist in the future.

When I opened my heart to grab onto my spinal cord and snap myself out of it I found mirrors of my childhood girlfriends, a picture of the time I went to McDonald and got the chicken nuggets when I was four, and a bucket hat that my mother never should have bought me.

These were things I wish never happen. Hannah, she cracked my femur with the pressure of a goodbye laid across the never happen. We were 1822 days old and going on stronger than ever.

It was here that I learned that I love my stuffed animals too hard, because I often wear them down from all the attention smothering their jugulars and stitching my loneliness into their knee caps. We were. There is a storage space so wide open and full of grace waiting for a  soft hand to lift its spirits, i need a drink.

It stands two feet tall in a colony of insecurities so intricately woven into patterns of bad ideas that i don't think it ever had a chance. I've never been good at telling the difference between the color of the floor board and the bleeding pattern of the ceiling.

And I could never fully grasp the reason why ***** packs are not only socially looked down upon but completely misunderstood. Efficiently storing every secret at waste level.

I have a lot of regrets. I'm not proud of most of them. But from them I was drunkenly spit into my present form. And from here I will always wear ***** packs.

Your sun shining on my face through the tinted windows of restraint. Walls broken down though drop kicks and hammer hits. Crumbling to the ground with an earth shattering I love you.

Arms open take me home to somewhere unknown. To the distant unfamiliarity that I call comfort. Trust fall, head slamming smitten. Dazed as a tacky cartoon character. Blistering wind of happiness content.

To where I will go as the heart I carry. As a rock in my chest waiting to be moved by the storm of absolute ness. Walking through a curtain of shivers. Drop me to my knees as I fall forward. Catch me with your strong will and acceptance.

Be able to take this to a different dimension. Somewhere far away from what it once was. It being the thing that is not clear. The pure feeling of electricity in your touch of eel shock. Breathless and abandoned in pure form. Leave me elated again and I promise. I promise.... Ill show you

Love, well love is like a good cup of coffee

We all want to drink it without getting burnt