my greatest fear became my greatest virtue.

why did someone leave
that man alone on the sidewalk of a pet store
along the midnight highway?

the question invokes a universal terror
that is relatively the greatest idea i ever imagined

goodnight to you and good morning to me
cause i know ill be up all night
with my heavy head
and hardened memory foam pillows
stuck against my bed

if youre the sadist i believe in, ill describe my pain in detail:
the middle parts of my eyebrows were hit with too much information,
my eyelids are burning with salt
(i hope it causes an abrasion on my cornea),
the tips of my nostrils burn and feel wet,
my shoulders slouch and the blades sharpen
(i hope they tear through my back),
the rash on my legs and arms is from scratching during the phone call,

[yea i get itchy when you make me nervous,
im glad you only call me when youre upset]

my stomach is tight from not eating but i still want to throw up,
my existence is weightless and im caught in my paradox again

cigar strokes stinging mid-car ride down the hill of the highway
reminds me all too much
of the slow hum of a dimmed light hanging about a smoke covered sink

"im still humiliated"

she sinks into the kitchen floor
one hand over her ribcage
and the other over god-knows-what means the world to her today
i am waiting for an explication
to the wary few days

sitting over a body can only get you so far
when her mind is millions of miles away
some place happier, i hope
because the noose she tied
is too small for her neck

it doesn't take a man

to be respectful to a woman
to not yell at a girl for rejecting a drink
to not hit a woman who hurt him in some way
to resist the urge of having *** with a reluctant woman
to hold in a cat call late at night
to prevent **** and ****** assault

to stand up for whats right
to look into others interests
to fight for the underprivileged
to know right from wrong
to identify societal problems today
to hope for women to live and succeed

it takes a human being to realize
something much bigger is happening
than our finite
identities

For some strange reason, I keep repeating the same thought in my head:

Wouldn't it be beautiful
to live to the end of the universe
and fade into the stars
with the sounds of nothingness?

Maybe all those stars are people screaming to the worlds around us.
Shouting, yelling, crying, "I exist."

If that were true,
I hope my light shines brightest,
or burns out entirely.

who is that critic in your mind?
she keeps pushing you around all the time.
a day will come when the voices
will subside and no more will those
songs about me hide.

little sleeper, keep a spot on the shelf
for your mind
because i see myself
in the thoughts you leave behind.

you feel stuck in a ditch,
i know this is true,
but i also know those little thoughts
aren't the kitsch
you thought you knew.

how i wish you could cut back the ropes
and know your shining hopes
glow in my heart
even when we feel more than millions of miles apart.

so sleep, my sweetheart,
let your dreams scream aloud.
i'll make sure to whisper in your ear,
how much you mean to me,
and how much i'm proud.

dark blue spring sky
sitting high above my head
yet i can barely remember how
yellow the slide was where
id watch my parents sit and smoke
as my youth would flash down
into the dirt

watering the grass became a sport
less a chore
as bumblebees would spring out
of the blades only to
be shot down by a rush of
water

cut up knees and cigarette burns
erected a time of what i thought
could be but definitely was not
total bliss
i still feel the very pain
of falling face first into
the gravel
only to grovel at the
streams of blood and dirt
flowing from my very body

thats it, my 6 year old self thought,
im dirt