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Chris Dionisio Nov 2015
Let me down easy
Don't soften the blow with formalities or kind words
The delivery is slice of rye that should be washed down, not buttered
Do not leave me hungry and desiring more
Let me drown in the wash of Time and liquor
Let me dive into the sharp icy bath of realization
Stop my heart and shock my senses
Spare no expense of my feelings or wellbeing
Let it be a summer storm to last but a day in my life
Then I will know that you truly care
Chris Dionisio Nov 2015
The house is still in slumber
I peak out my window and the sun peaks back
Dawn.
I pick my layers and dig for change
A Banana Rep sweater, a Lee denim jacket, and $6.75 in various coins.
I tuck my jeans into and lace up my boots while music plays in my ears
Arctic Monkeys.
I head out the door
It's cold out and an elderly cyclist crosses in front of me at a steady pace
The smell of cigarette smoke dances into my nostrils
I breathe in
Soon that will be me.
I make it to the 7-Eleven and greet good morning to a homeless man who had just woken up
Please don't let that be me.
I go inside and ask for Marlboro reds
Ah, Death's satin dress.
The clerk tells me to quit
I smile to hide my irritation and tell him, "Maybe."
As I head home, I spark one of Death's twenty porcelain fingers
It's still cold out
Yet I sacrifice my right hand's comfort for another drag.
It's going to be a good morning.
Chris Dionisio Oct 2015
Cigarette smoke fills my lungs as I press graphite to the dimly lit page
I am uncertain if my light source is the street lamp or the moonlight
Mucus builds up in the back of my throat
Lovely habit
I look up and see Orion and wonder what he thinks of me
Does he think of me?
I put out my cigarette and the faint yet pungent odor of marijuana hits me
Maybe some Mary Jane would help this flow better
Maybe
I begin to count
Ten
Ten cigarettes to last me until Monday
I reach for another, begrudgingly
Filthy habit
Orion looks down at me with disgust
Or is it indifference?
Marlboro Red's
The sharp veil that adorns Death's alluring figure
Each puff is a tighter grip onto my unhallowed lover
Smoke hits my eyes, stinging them
Death is such a tease
And I am in love
Chris Dionisio Oct 2015
The weight of emotion sinks into my soul
The weight of loss crushes my chest
Pressure builds inside of me
Rage and sorrow, love and frustration
I want to apologize
I want her to apologize
I want to hold her and tell her that I'm still here
I want her to need me again
Every thought of her pains me
My breath shortens
My arms grow heavy
I want to release the pressure the only way I know how
I want to hurt myself
Even now my mind drifts to the blade
Sweet crimson life dripping out
Please, help lift these stones from my chest
Help release this pressure inside me
Whoever, wherever you are
Please, help me
Chris Dionisio Oct 2015
Spending nights off in
Bars or back at school
Spending nights off
Laying in bed sad and alone
Going out at my own expense
Paying no mind to my
Bank account or rent
Spending my breaks
Smoking out half a lung
Worrying more if I have money
For cigarettes than for rent
Coworkers and family ask
If I have a girlfriend yet
I tell them I don’t have
The time or money when
Really, I don’t have
Confidence
November is my birthday
I’m turning twenty-two
I’m feeling twenty-blue
Chris Dionisio Oct 2015
I watch the energy roar silently across the sky through the thin veil of cigarette smoke
The parking lot lamp lights the page
A midsummer night in October and my skin sticks to my shirt with sweat and desperation
I look at my life and think
Our individual existence is as fleeting as a blot of lightning
The observation or neglect of it doesn't make it not so
Yet we cannot help but be in awe of it all
Chris Dionisio Apr 2014
I was the boy who refused to grow up
And as punishment for this hubris
The world moved on without me.
My friends all out grew make-believe
While I spun stories in my head.
They learned and embraced responsibility
While I was crushed by the weight of my decisions.
They adapted to the jaded world of adulthood
While I became prisoner to my habits and ideals.
They pressed on from struggle and forward with life
While I stood still, wallowing in depression.
They have their futures
While I have my present.
And perhaps, like the absent-minded astronomer,
They will fall into the well of Now
While I sit back and enjoy the city lights.
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