My blood runs still
but i am faster than
the river we used to play in,
flinging mud and catching minnows

I can crouch lower than
that mole hole
we dug up, a labyrinth of tunnels and scattered rocks

I can spread myself flat
and become the horizon
shining from all directions
but you'll find me at none

Think twice, blink later
keeps your eyes open
and your mind open wider
now you see me, now you don't

*Catch me if you can

I miss you like I miss cigarettes
   They were killing me softly too
      I miss you like I miss *******
         You both made me act the fool
             I miss you like I miss London
               ****, *****, vicious alcoholics
                  I miss you like teenage years
                    Confusion,  dabbling  narcotics
                       I will miss you less and less
                         Until, well you are just regret
                           But that has not happened
                              It has not happened - yet.
                                                    X

i quake to my bones
to my very core
i shudder and crumble
ashes to ashes
dust to dust

overwhelmed,
consumed
filled to the brim
the very thought of me
Screams you

the slinking corridors hide my addictions,
afflictions,
illusions, distractions,
my convictions
the mirrors reflect nothing
i am weightless, drifting

*ashes to ashes, dust to dust

I love mess
Messy hair and
Messy eyes from a sleepless night
Messy art and
Messy words
Because expressing yourself isn't as easy as they say
Messy is an undefined subject
A messy life
With messy situations
Mess is just a simple reminder
That nothing is perfect
You're not suppose to expect it to be
Because it will not be

I don't want
to keep running from my problems.
I want
to stop getting high every time I feel any form of
guilt
remorse
sadness
anger.

I want to stop whining
and I want to start doing.

I want to think about flowers
and French music
and I want to think about you
but I can't and I hate myself for that.

I hate that I created all my problems
and here you are,
the most lovely human being I've ever met
and you didn't do anything to deserve your problems
and I can't ******* help you with them.
I can't help you with them
because I get high anytime a negative doubt lingers
and I get drunk if I can't sleep
and I cry if I'm out of ***** or dope
and I really really like you and I only want whats best for you
and I want to do everything I can to make you happy.
I want to pick you ten thousand flowers,
all of which will pale in comparison to you,
and I want to write you ten thousand poems,
none of which will be as grand as yours,
and I want to give you ten thousand kisses,
because you deserve them
and ******* it,
I like kissing you.

Above I said that I can't, but I lied.
I can, I will, I am.
I'm getting better

What's one more pill to a man who's taken thousands?
It depends;
if you're running out and you drop one under the fridge, it's enough to move the fridge.
If you've taken eight but can't seem to fall asleep one might just do the trick.
If you're trying to sober up one might mean starting the cycle again.