The moon was so bright it was as bright as the moon.
The stars looked as radiant as stars in the sky.
You were next to me, and it felt as if you were near me.
And we held hands till they cramped up and were crippled for life.
This is so unromantic it's not romantic at all.
And it's not very poetic, it's not even poetry.
We were lying there under the trees...
Trees,
Swaying in the wind like my thoughts about butts.

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.

she was a short one
getting fat and she had once been
beautiful and
she drank the wine
she drank the wine in bed and
talked and screamed and cursed at
me
and i told her
please, I need some
sleep.
-sleep? sleep? ya son of a
*****, ya never sleep, ya
don't need any
sleep!
I buried her one morning early
I carried her down the sides of the Hollywood Hills
brambles and rabbits and rocks
running in front of me
and by the time I'd dug the ditch
and stuck her in
belly down
and put the dirt back on
the sun was up and it was warm
and the flies were lazy and
I could hardly see anything out of my eyes
everything was so
warm and yellow.
I managed to drive home and I got into bed and I
slept for 5 days and 4
nights.
from "poems written before jumping out of an 8 story window" - 1966

Maybe I'm a good man
A lost soul on the move
I'm a liar with conviction
Maybe you are too

I think the sky is blue on purpose
The moon still full enough to view
The stars add up in surplus
Maybe one plus one is two

The way you laugh is angelic
Maybe you already knew that
My compliments sound long overdue
I think you knew that too

I'm scared of asking for your name
Maybe I know you'd only be passing through
We're separated by more than six degrees
A conclusion you already drew

Maybe life provides no guarantees
And all I ever wanted was the truth
I don't know what to believe
Maybe I always needed something new

Maybe there are no keys to succeed
Maybe success is knowing who you are is true
Maybe who you are is complete
And you and I will make do