ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
   *stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
   stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
   stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends

I build my new life over graveyards swollen,
each journey stolen on paths walked before;
the oak church door, the adolescent postures,
first breath of ****, first taste of flight
amongst grounded freedom, amongst polluted nights.

I trade eyes with women over numbered tables,
contriving fables from coffee cups, loose-tongued gospels
for manufactured apostles, remnants of mistreated advice;
last pocket of ****, last drink of the night,
I have learned when to swallow, I have learned when to fight.

I found myself in the ground-zero wreckage,
last vestige of meaning and useful obsession,
those drunk-dial confessions, aftermath of silence;
first smoke of the day, last image of starlight,
I have forgiven my failings, I have kept them in sight.

I'm ******* **** uuuuuuuuup in the worst way!!!
almost forgot my mom's birthday
drowning in my own little misery
I think I really hate life
liquor seems to stick to me
**** wants to reminisce, dig up all my old ****
sitting in a cloud of smoke, dreaming of my old chick
nostalgic of past days
   wish this was my last day
...yea I wish this was my last day

Now it's daybreak
sun is on the rise again
hiding from the moon to keep the shadows from my irises
ignorance is bliss so I don't wanna see no evil
but I can't ignore a whole world full of people
I can't be blind to my own **** reflection
used to be good but I lost that connection
nother kid murdered, still I feel no connection
-----a common misconception

But can I fix my vision to become a visionary?
Can I find my purpose ******* her in missionary?
in a world full of things, if i buy a diamond ring, Does that mean love is eternal?
cuz that's kinda scary.
Is happiness an illusion cuz it doesn't last?
Is today just a mirage of the distant past?
if a circle always spins, when I do reach my end, Does that mean I was a point in a pile of ash?

I believed a life of solitude would suit me
and mostly it has suited me a treat
but when my tongue is bitten raw
in the company of others
I feel so ******* lonely
I could weep
.

Spun out and liaising with The Smiths,
slow death of living, a decay into night-
this incomplete ******, tend to album sleeves,
wearing the dismal heart
as a tablet for communion.

A choreography of chords and isolation,
a steadied high, sleepless eyes of longing
scratch faces in the ceiling print.
Anxious plots of escape,
the paralysis of a song lyric.

Bludgeon of chemicals, the sunglass confidence
of a new summer, a winter spent inside.
There is calm in desperation, missed chords;
imbalance amongst the infrastructure.
We wait for it all to come down.
Reduced to word,
reduced to sound.