breaking wrists, bruised upper lips
chewing cigarettes like they're chalk sticks
breathing in, let's let go
throwing shoes over the barbed wire
and inhaling november rain to soothe this
this is the mediocre
let's blow **** up with dynamite
i want to see the end with you
hop in the busted Toyota
play some ****** lofi and let's let loose
bust your head on the dashboard
i want chaotic
run this red light, brake before the train on the track, dine and dash with me, shoplift this bottle of moscato for me
rack up the records
and let's let loose
i'll drink for me and i'll drink for you
i know you hate these nights when you can't reach a high
but i'll count the feathers with you
play with your hair
and hold your hand while we let the car run in your garage
i'll let you ramble about your rendezvous and listen diligently
this is how we can go, i just want to see the end with you
i hope this is good enough

we could have the summers in italy
the peaches in paradise
the dawns and the dusks and our toes in the sand
but we're doing the vtc and ecstasy
listening to scratched disks and taking shots of drain water
dreamers only think in French you tell me
so i chant the words
je veux tout in my head
i want the nutmeg stuck on the walls in my nose
and your moans in my ear till 4 after midnight
i want the silk sheets wrapped around my neck
the tongues in my mouth
i want to get familiarized with the richness
when a balenciaga shoe hits me and the euros are in my bloodstream
i want to be used to it
     the velvet carpets and red lingerie
     the colosseum and vatican city
     busboys with scruffy berets
     expensive wine in busted hotels
     chocolate fondue and burnt pasta at the cartels
     michelangelo's david and authentic fur coats
     tramps and 2 dollar bills down your throat
     throwing ash trays at the sistine chapel
     gifts of china tea cups and diamond rings to forget the scandals
     fat cigars and the bonnie and clyde lifestyle
i want it all in italy baby

je veux tout
je veux tout

mantra and insolence hand in hand
intercepting the idea of the baby boy crush applying to me like kinetic sand
barbie dolls at the marriott
saccharine jewels in the sewers rot
with
the old girlie i had a tap on
lipstick peeling away like a deteriorated vinyl record's song
let the angels waver, barter, become sicker
and quote 'say anything' as if it's a 90s sticker
have *****-stained carpet posted
and
uploaded to the black market webs
caption it "****** me"
and let the media do the rest
tired of these wicked games
isaac position me with rachel some day
at the mosque, eve and ann is scratched out into the old testament books
pack the bags
let's go
the hilton's booked
etch and sketch situated on the train tracks
along with two birds together
feet lazily dangling
bargaining with god to finish them over
****** denial, toothbrush stuffed in the dog's mouth
ran down the line, kissing him to the south
lost the baby girl along the way
let the dirt do the talking
gargled some milk and jack daniels honey
in large arms, lucid dreaming never seemed so calming

i wake up at 2:13 every morning cause my body forbids me to sleep and rest, it's just an uncommon thing for a human. why sleep when there's finally silence and no one to disturb your skipping stone acts? let's rise before the sun and break the fire station's glass! who's going to say no? who's going to stop us when everyone is sleep deprived and just wants to go home and rest? oh no. oh wait, here comes forth the poor policeman that pulled himself out of comfort, sleeping with his accomplice's wife, running towards us out of breath and looking useless and insufferable. he must be able to defy the laws of Newton if he feels almighty this night. but don't worry, we'll submit. we'll pick up the glass sir and by pick up i mean abandon it because that's a familiar topic amongst you and other humans, no? when have you ever felt secure and bound to someone? i highly doubt you and your mistress can recall a time, so just use this glass as a metaphor and we'll make our way back before the sun rises and you won't have to deal with i and thee anymore until the day resigns his position and dies.
oh wait, the day a he? the sun a she? how can an orb that produces energy possibly earn a check mark of gender on a useless piece of paper? it cannot. it will not. it'll burn the letters! how comical! that silly orb could burn us instead 'cause at 2:13 in the morning everyone has fallen asleep and no one will be able to notice they're de*d.

momma always said that life on the farm wasn't always stingy she said the birds were chirping Roman numerals and the bees buzzed the alphabet sometimes

daddy always said momma's knees were full of salt because grandad made her kneel
momma said childhood was rough once grandad knocked the hummingbirds out with morphine and daddy had to peel their feathers off

sometimes momma would have a seizure and start sputting out random stories that she would remember and then we would go have to quiet her down and bring her to bed
the one story she never tells is the story about me - how I broke her vase
that barnacle was so delicate it cracked when I put too much salt in it

momma heard the wrong bedtime story once and ripped her seed-filled bible in half
she said god gave her a vision and finally tore the dream catcher I have above my bed to see the trains I stuck in my head
she never knew I could be the little girl dreamin of covering her next lover in salt
and the little girl screaming in the crazy box when she had to put miss instead of sir

now momma always said that I would be her little girl but momma never said she would always treat me the same
momma threw a knife at me and said girls belong in the kitchen
momma striped my room clean and said decorations weren't manly
momma yanked my clothes off and pointed to my chest "these aren't supposed to be here"
now daddy always stuck up for me but this point I wasn't daddy's little girl - I was momma's little reject

now momma lost her mind when she found out uncle shared the same name as me
momma threw the cat tails at me and threw me out
momma ripped my life apart and said I was at fault
momma was weeping with the pigs and shot the dogs heart out
momma scratched herself up and declawed the horses
momma went headless with the chickens and skinned herself with salt

momma calmed down when we tied bricks to her feet and dumped her in the river for a bit
now she sits in her rocking chair on the porch, picking out dead flies stuck in honey
every now and then she gets bit and feels a sense of reality
she doesn't talk much anymore so I just stuck the tongue back in my hat

thought a country girl would've been good enough for the folks back home
spent the nights carving in the trees together
sticking wheat in her teeth
and she shoved grass down my throat just to keep me quiet
momma saw me filling my lovers mouth with a tongue and yanked me by my hair
dragged me all the way down the dirt road
momma didn't flinch and quickly had my mouth washed out with salt

it was an anaphora. repeated with repent over and over again. my skin blistered when you thought that heating a metal rod was the way to smoke insomnia away. im stained with regrets, stained with your thoughts, stained with you. red wasn't my color and i wasn't yours. seeing you peel my skin away with a broken bottle set my matches volatile. you made me feel intolerable. looking at a compressed chest and empty lower half wasn't anyone's ideal. seeing you in the mirror was sickening but my throat was burned with the taste of mercury and my hands were covered in biocide. you chopped my head off and let me loose in the tennis courts and i ate braille for breakfast. i became malleable and slitting my throat was to the answer c as was my tongue growing a mouth to the dead bird in the drain. my room was stripped, skin diminished, a phase so to speak dispersed along with my security. forgotten like the gum on a shoe, i scraped my ears clean with barbed wire and drowned everyone's mind with a plate of malaise - i was gone but here at the same time.

i.    now i'll write this in the melodramatic form everyone has been wanting as "no place like home for the holidays" plays in the background and my mother throws my dad outside while punching him relentlessly

ii.     i break my window and put the broken glass in my bag for memories - it's a stereotypical bag of goodies that contain candy canes, broken teeth, cigarettes, and now my shards of glass

iii.     as i scrap my skin on the rough edges of my window, i decided to be the false underdog named santa tonight and give everyone the sickening hope that the fat man that flies in the sky is actually real

iv.     you'll find me breaking into houses looking for a place to stay and if im lucky enough i'll get caught - my hands in handcuffs lieing in a cell is better than nothing, its more of a home than i'll ever have

v.     let's not forget the phone and keys I've left on my disheveled bed as they wait in the cold winds for i do not plan on returning any time soon nor do I plan on surviving this deathly Alaskan night

vi.     my dog nips in the cold and my mother finds the neon green duct tape under my bed to close the window and lock the door with -
shes been crying for so long that her eyes have welded shut - she mistakens the lump on my bed as me when in fact it's suicide notes for everyone I encountered (even the old lady who threw her glasses at me) and the stuffed animals (I've been collecting them over the years, the ones that were given as gifts)

vii.    one thing remains that i should have taken and it's my shoes I had the silly thought that maybe if i went barefoot my mother would follow my snow trail and look for me but no one will come out at night no one will breathe at night it's just me and broken shards