I always end up listening to
Red Red Wine
Wether I'm sober, ******,
or on acid
I think I've come to find
that when I sing along
I'm not speaking to wine at all
I'm speaking to the woman
who I am yet
to meet

new friends don't feel so real
though I've been working on
building ladders to my walls
it seems either they don't know
how to climb, or they don't care
people in my classes
are already embedded with a group
approaching is foreign
everyone says it just takes time
except my brother
who told me he hasn't made
any true connections since highschool
is it always going to be like this?
Me in a room full
of kindly acquaintances
passing time till I can be alone
where did all my real friends go?

a long brown hair
pulled from a coat pocket
must have been yours
laying in there like a mine
then a shorter but still long
red strand poked out of
the knot in a blanket
still yours, but more fake
later an almost black hair
came from inside my pillow case
it was hers, stirred emotions
just a little too late
finally a turquoise one
belonging to a friend
but the kind that ended up
naked in my bed
and left questions
do you miss me?
was it just to get frisky?
does it matter?

She was one of those girls. Easy to love, bright, but when the season changed she was full of rain and overflowing gutters. I could get an umbrella, even a small boat to ride her waves, but she would always sink me. Just before I could drown in her waters she would give me CPR in the form of Spring kisses. Rays of sun shone through her eyes.
For two years I managed to survive through her storms just long enough to bask in her ever flitting warmth. Our one year anniversary threatened to rip me limb from limb, she was a tornado that day. Flowers and home made pasta blew away her storm clouds, just barely.
When two years rolled around I must have looked like a weathered sailor, knowing the exact moment to pull the sails, or when to just hang on and ride the rolling seas. So when she sat down one day and said,
“I can’t do this anymore.”
I just froze, caught completely off guard.
“I love you like…a brother.”
I started taking my ship into shore, to retire, maybe become a mountain man.
“I can’t talk to you…”
I pulled into the harbor, turned around, and set my vessel on fire. No more storms for me, no more blessed, tropical trips either. As the tip of my ship’s mast sank into the water, I let out a sigh of relief, shaved my beard, and disappeared down the coast.

It started nibbling on my spinal chord
not long ago
each day the bites get wider
tossing me into throws of
this all means nothing
or looking like my dad
while staring at the mirror hanging above the sink, It lingers

when I'm on my feet for too long
they turn red
making it hard for me to
stand for anything.
maybe my bed has a selfish plot
to keep me from ever leaving
with its sheets full of envy
forcing me to repeat defining moments
every time my mind deems it fit
to dream

I had that dream
with Sydney all close to me
and today two street signs stood out
what did they say?
The top one was my name
and the one right below was hers
I sat on the curb
head in hands
"When does this end?
When does this end?"
Every corner I turn is a reminder
smashing **** up in the grinder
but her
but her
what the ****, why does she linger
is it because I haven't loved since?
I just want to rinse my hands
get rid of her name
it's a a sick game this world plays
let me break the rules
let me cheat
so I can get her syllables
out of my cheek

woods surrounded us
full of clatter and charm
we lay beneath a woven blanket
you fit snug into my arms
that dark hair twisting in my fingers
your laughter and gentle kisses
complimenting the words that
filled my ears
I hate it, I hate it
these dreams abound with you
I don't even love you anymore
I don't even care
I don't even remember how to love
so why do they haunt me?
why do they taunt me?
why can't I let them
go?

all the eyes scan right over me
this hand hasn't held
this heart hasn't felt
this knee hasn't knelt
to any feeling of late
my plate is empty
and has been so for
many a day
I've forgotten how to say
words that melt or thaw
my body doesn't know
how to be raw or *****
I must be
I must be
fading
fading
faded

I call my bed my ******* best friend
it'll always hold me when
my head is cracking, pouring
tequila and brain matter all over the floor
when I'm hacking, dying
from the poison I chose to take
laying naked and shivering
but too hot to cover up
I'm generally not a **** but
for my bed I'll do anything
just put a few thousand shots in me
so I can be with my best friend
so I can finally
fall asleep

hacking coughs rack my body
forcing sleep to evade me
just give me some loving company
please
please
please

on the cusp of being Vegas bound
with a car full of old friends, howling like hounds
yet somehow it hangs heavy on my heart
as if this is the last time that things will feel
almost like the used to back in highschool
and ever after the sounds of our laughter
will fade further and further
as we drift apart
like leaves resting
on water

many illegal substances
have coursed through my veins
but the one that's killing me
can be bought totally legally
at any gas station
while legal drug lords
bathe in the spoils
made out of me
and this pack of
Turkish Royals

Waking moments are malleable
mostly under my control,
if a thought or longing
I wish to be rid of pops up
a quick shake of the head
sheds them from my mind
but sleep is a troubling time
because the power to steer dreams
is beyond me
The woman I need to leave
as just a good memory
keeps showing up
she hugs me and kisses me
tells me she misses me
laughs and smiles
then I wake up
and realize she is
thousands of miles
out of my reach
before drifting back to sleep
where I can be hers
and rest my tired head
at her feet

all I hear is
"Praise God for this!"
and
"Praise God for that!"
but to me
there is no arguement back
to why so much of the world
suffers
why heroes die young
and bad guys live forever
I known the name
******
better than any hero's name
ever
I hear "******"
more than "love"
and people expet me to
kneel to some man above?
Believe in white doves
that get shot down a second later?
You must be joking
If I ever see world peace
I'll be praying
to humans
for changing
not some omnipotent being
who is
faking

Dad still in his apartment
Mom in the house
changing things to make it hers
not theirs
When I feel the stairs
like they've always been
I wonder when "theirs"
turned in to his and hers
when "ours"
went out the window
was it when Dad started sleeping
in the office
or when the tree came down
or when Dad moved away?
I miss them, I miss them
not Dad or Mom
but
Dad and Mom

been alone a lot lately
no new friends to keep me company
maybe when school starts
I'll open up and touch a few hearts
but right now it's just me,
my mind, and my body
which I'm working on every day
you know what they say
look good, feel good
burning calories like fire wood
sweating out toxins like
I know I should

gazing at my front porch
I don't see an empty
concrete rectangle with one couch
I see plants sprouting up
I see deep talks with friends
sitting at night under the open sky
the palm trees wafting gently
I see a new chapter
full of laughter and growth
I see a little garden
that I can call
home

(temporarily)

the highway lanes began to spread
like my veins, full of life
criss-crossing, bobing, weaving
and my heart began to pulse
so **** fast
faster than the cars that passed me
going eighty, cruising
driving a little reckless
despite having my whole life
packed in the back
of a ten foot Uhaul
everything I own bouncing
up and around
while heat waves
swam from the ground

That's when it really sank in
everything I've grown to know
is changing

the last few nights
will lay etched in memory
not because they were
overly special or
out of this world
but they are the end
of an era I didn't think
would cease to be

when, if ever, will I see
the faces that laughed
and sang along tonight?
will some of them press on
through the ages
or pass away with time?

my throat seems plugged
unable to open up
and say those final words
that lay solemn in the night
...
"Goodbye my friends,

goodbye"

handrail, wall, ceiling, stair
tumbled down the whole flight
by mistaking the door
for the staircase as the door
for the bathroom
as doom loomed near
nothing had been more clear
I've been falling down stairs
my whole life
bruising, aquiring contusions,
bleeding, clotting, bones snapping,
regrowing,
I'll be okay, I'll be okay
if I can just manage to crawl
back up to the party
to the... party
to the...
to...


**blackout

As much as I can
I repress the one part
of myself that I can't stand
the hopeless romantic
that sits in my brain
trying to change the things
I think
drown them down
the kitchen sink

money isn't worth much
not to me anyway
but words don't seem to hold weight
any more
sometimes it's a chore
to listen to people talk
their words a babble
just shh for a minute
and enjoy the silence

once I sat atop a mountain
for about eight seconds
it was completely quiet
for about eight seconds
I felt at peace

When I get high my songs all ****
I'm nervous for an audience that
doesn't even exist
But I feel like a million bucks
giggling like a school boy
interested by the dumbest ****
Trying to figure myself out
by staring in the mirror
then rearrange the interior
and pour water on my eyes
to try to see clearer

She whispered while we lay
"I don't regret anything"
which brought forth a chuckle
from my gut
"So I'm not a hated heartbreaker?"
"No...I just wish you would try"
I sigh
200 miles is to far for a man like I
despite the ability to drive or fly
I made up my mind long ago
distance is a poison
that causes all relationships
to die

She said she wanted to take me line dancing
down town with a couple of folks
I said yes but wanted to say
"Don't you go an' get too involved now
'cause I'm packing my bags, on my way out
and you might just wind-up a' really  hatin' me"

So I know it's late but I need to vent. Sometimes getting held to higher standards kills me. It's like I'm on this pedestal and I can't breathe
I'm my mom's baby boy and my dad's therapist
I'm our friends' secret keeper
a sponge that soaks up all the stuff no one wants to remember
I'm summer and I'm winter in the thick of December
the ember in the fire and I'm burning low like I'm the fuel for peoples' furnace
and maybe I just imagine it
maybe I make it up in my head
but it feels real to me
Half of me wants to be the one people confide in and trust
but half of me wants to disappear
to just leave and join a crabbing ship
somewhere out at sea
so I can prove to myself that people will live on
that with me gone they will end up ok
maybe it sounds like I'm full of myself
or that I put too much weight on me as an anchor
but that's what I feel like
an anchor cast out into the ocean to keep everyone from drifting, safe on their ship while I
sit at the bottom
with a mouth full of sand and cold salt water seeping into my skin
Even anchors
need a break
a reprieve from their duty.
Even anchors need to surface
for a taste of
fresh
air

Now it's my turn to rant
I'm so ******* tired of being
held to higher standards
of being the one with a halo
of being something more
I'm always labeled
song writer, poet, college student
I'm just Dan *******
just Dan
my blood runs red and blue
I just want to leave
I'm no one's savior
no saint
but I'm always painted up
some perfect picture for someone
some safe haven
some heaven
it's my turn to rant
I'm nothing more than
Dan

I think we forget
that we are on one simple planet
racing through  space
just a rock
just a glorified rock

I read a chapter on beating-heart cadavers
how they lay looking alive
chest rising, blood pumping
but brain not functioning
I started to cry
because once upon a time
you were a beating-heart cadaver
and now I know what comes after
how they probably slit you
from below the belly button
to just under the Adam's apple
practically unzipped you
then systematically took out organs
cutting arteries, clamping things
all the while your face
calmly looking asleep or maybe
hidden under a shroud
despite the initial stomach drop
I realized I couldn't have been
more proud of you
I couldn't have been
any more
proud

This marble pedestal,
that has me so high up
like an extraterrestrial,
is causing a lack of oxygen
my thoughts drift from neurons
to the tip of my pen
so many questions without answers
so many things giving me cancer
my own thoughts jousting
after the sting of a friend's syllables
even though I try and be gold
they still hold me up
push me to the clouds
where I will die for want of air
but if I jump down
I drown

I used to be golden
now I'm covered in tar
My lungs give in when
I've traveled too far
please let me shine for
just one more moment
please let the light
reach out
so I can be gorgeous
for someone who won't know me
fill up my waters
then break through my levy
my hands are shaky
nobody can steady
these legs full of jello
all I want is a
hello old friend
hello

I'm sorry but poetry does nothing for me. Half the time I don't read it and when I do I like less then half of what I read. I think I'm done for a bit, maybe a long while. See y'all later, hope your sad words give way to physical smiles

Ice and hail have pounded their songs
deep into the earth
men have brought fire and axes
torn into the rock with picks
no thanks given
no compassion shown
to the land that bore them
yet the soil will live on
long after they are gone
grow over their towers and bridges
crumble their walls
slowly until not even the animals
will remember their calls
till the trees stand tall
roots buried, gaining sustenance
from their fall

This one time, Eddie and I were in his house, their neighbor fed the squirrels and they had over run Eddie's backyard. He saw one on the fence and asked me to grab his bow. Standing at the back door he drew back an arrow, took a deep breath in, let it out slow, and let the arrow fly. It struck the squirrel right through the eye and flung it from the fence top. Eddie's pops saw and congratulated him on the shot, but said we were not to waste the squirrel so Eddie cooked it up on the BBQ and we ate it. It tasted terrible, but I'm ****** if that wasn't the best shot I've ever seen. And I'm ****** if we didn't eat every last bit. And I'm ****** if Eddie ever dies for a second time, when no one remembers him.

There are generations of kings
and peasants buried in my bones
though I claim to be neither
riches and starving stomachs
reside in my skin
though I've only experienced one
there are daughters and sons
doves and guns
my flesh is a tree
torn from the earth
my death will be
another's birth

I hate the phrase
"College is the time to try new things"
because it excludes the idea that
you can try new things your entire life

My nights have gotten longer, my body no stronger. A foul air soils my apartment, stale cigarettes, my beer breath. Sleep doesn't bless me unless my brain is tricked, altered. Faltering footsteps due to shin splints, a spot of blood on the white wall by my bed from my arm. I gave up ****** harm long ago, or so I thought. It's just different now, I don't cut or burn, but I get drunk and fall, let people put out stoges on my back, fist fight for fun. Jeff said I'm a *******, and **** maybe I am one. I'd say I'm a mess even though I'm on track, pay my bills, work hard at my job. Hell, to the rest of the world I'm on my way up to the top, but to me...to me I'm a hazard, a ***** mop, a wreck. All I can think is that my own hands are getting tighter and tighter around my neck

Two months left sits in my chest pressing against my vital organs. Days play out like recordings on fast forward while I struggle to press pause. It may be best to cease this hiatus, yet part of me will miss this.
The watch on my wrist ticks ever on counting down the hours till I'm
gone...

Well, I finally stated the truth. "idk I'm just tired of it, this drunkness is false happiness." glares up at me as I look about my room. Broke my painting, my sunglasses, wrecked my arm, my liver. Shaking and quivering from too much to drink to the kitchen sink. I think it's time to stop.

My downstairs neighbor got evicted,
he gave me a charm to keep away evil spirits, hung it right on my door. Acceptance from a few time aqaintance
had never felt so good. We stood and smoked stoge after stoge, swapping stories, who would have thought two stories and a noise complaint to meet a Pisces just like me, and have him call me a saint. That *****, quivered on the air followed by I don't care, a high five, and a see you around. Drop the stoge to the ground, stamp it out, peace out.

I've been riding my bike with the seat stolen for months. I've cut down the time that nicotine washes over
my gums to two times a day.
I'm on my way out to a four year
university for the second time
and reduced my drunkenness
to three days a week
it might be tongue in cheek to believe
I'm healed and ready to venture on
but I'm at least going strong despite
everything I've done and seen. My phone screen gleams with a fresh text
"Just for the record, there is nothing I
don't like about you." screen shotted,
only a hands reach away from my pocket, that text might as well be
in a locket