is like
the nights
you get so drunk
that you throw up
on your shoes
and **** in your bed
when you wake up
the next morning
you tell yourself
i swear to god
i will never drink again
but of course
that time between
sunset and sunrise
you find yourself
throwing up
and *******
all over again

the herd     moaned
three legged
broken

& the shepherd spits
           blackgold
off
silver tongue

is a sheep
in a black sweater
not real
not what they say
they are
not
what they do
when it comes down to it
to that specific situation
they fold
they crumble
they do what they do
what i hate
is how okay am with this
i do not mind their actions
do what you want
however
it makes me sad
i feel alone
with my thoughts
with my ideals
with my philosophies
with my mind
i try to help
but all i receive
is combat
i am okay with being alone
but i’d rather be accompanied
someone on the same page
someone on the same level
someone who’d
be frustrated with me
truly frustrated
i shouldn’t be trying to settle down
so young
i know
from stories told by others
that when the time comes
the time comes
so i will wait
i know eventually that time
will come
so until then i will remain
frustrated
with
everyone

throw my poetry in the trash and
scream hallelujah
maybe
then
I'll do the dishes

I wish I could love you
but my timing is all wrong

I already know who you are
what you love
what you like
what you hate

but
he's still there
even though
he's not

wanting is irrelevant
waiting is irrelevant

and my timing is all wrong

what if
he wasn't there
what if he wasn't a friend

what if
you were happy
what if I could kiss you on the cheek

what if
I could hold your hand
and not feel guilty about it
and only let get so you could dance in the parking lot

what
if

except
my timing is all wrong
it's never been right

I love you

has anyone
died on me
my relatives are all alive
i have always said
life is short
live it to the fullest
because **** happens

I knew
the day was bound to come

however
i never anticipated when
besides

eventually


it felt exactly how i thought
it would feel

sad
angry

and confusing

holy

holy
holy—

on mesa
high dune    and tooth

bats sing

     there was a golden
     burial

howl
loud

sun    of son

here, crawling
through blood and ****
of once brothers
too young &
too sober

deafened—
leaded
& known only by dog

for tradition
for man

absolute
obsolete
pure pride & purpose

but, I am scared—

death
has blue eyes
& hell
is in the hills

there are times
to give a ****
and times
to give a ****
both of which
should just be
thrown out the window
if hank was alive today
he’d understand
what i’d have to say
and let me do
what i have to do
yet maybe i
am just a fool

isn’t something we plan for
it is just sort of
given to us
yes
we have some guidance along the way
but for the most part
it is left up to us to figure it out
we are thrown into this game
of what is
and what isn’t
just to find out
there isn’t that much at all
there is just us
being
living
getting on with ****
it’s almost comical
how something so precious to all of us
in the end
in the big scheme of things
amounts to nothing more
than what we make of it
isn’t that funny

I found a dead
dog today

so I took it home
and buried it

with the others
I have found

I saw her hair
under
the mountain

like dead
roots

and the birds
forgot to sing

my head
there is a tiny stone

that I sand
knowing

it will never
be smooth