Today is the anniversary of nothing
The birthday of almost
And could-have been
On this fence post,
Balloon heads hang in shame
Their white faces
Grimly fixed upon the ground

Full of wasted breath

It seemed like a good idea at the time
Clear liquid with a scorpion, asleep
At the bottom of the bottle
But oh how those feelings creep
Up, blurred and spun
As people turn to ghosts
And shadows start to run
Towards the music, loud, so loud
And I lose faith in my feet
Swept up in the crowd
Mouths and bodies meet
And sweat drips down, down
My neck and I’m dizzy and twisting
By the records, by the fire
And inside I’m not missing
That loss of desire
For once, a mental break
The one-night vacation
I needed to take

I buried a suitcase in the sand,
It's contents to remain unknown.
Although I wish to understand
These are best if left alone:

The interactions of two
Within a circle of three,
The meaning of You
Of I and of Me.

The silence that’s found
At the sun’s first breath,
A man that has drowned
Yet experienced no death.

The alignment of power
On painted lips,
The deadliest flower-
A rose with a whip.

The interstice between
Ribs and their cages,
Guardians without wings
And the gentlest rages.

Where land touches sea-
A transient mirror,
It seemed fitting for me
To bury it here.

I’ve overslept
I’ve smoked too much
My house is unkept
And my body's wrecked
My heart's a mess
And my head is worse
The doctor said
I over think
So I sought a cure
In the form of drink
That didn’t help, so
I turned to men
They let me down
All of them
My daily pills
For various ills
Don’t work so well
I’m starting to believe
That life is hell

baby, little boy
with bones of steel and ice
hate coiled in your stomach
like
barbed wire
i see you so clearly, on the edge
of that rooftop in Spain  
wind pushing your hair back,
arms spread, unafraid
The descent-
how beautiful you are, falling
i wish i could have been by your side
and held your hand
as we dove into the concrete
like
angels in reverse

I washed your sheets on Mondays, a private liturgy
Their veracious nature spoke; my eyes sought not to see
I scrubbed those stains with child's hands
Until linen stripped and fell to strands
Those twisted ropes that once bound us
Turned silent traitors, servants of  lust
Denial is my cross to bear
And of the irony, I am aware
Yet do not dismiss my right to ache
My faith in you is your mistake
But know when thread unwinds to bone
You will lie prisoner on those sheets
Alone

When dark arrives, tears follow
Heaving sobs to a baby’s sigh
It comes so suddenly—
An iron punch to the gut
Until I am doubled over, writhing
And when it finally passes
Delirium ensues
And every object surrounding
Turns a violent violet
So I curl into a ball and shake
Begging for morning
To keep me from mourning
The little girl that wasn’t