Imagine there's a vitamin you can take that makes you feel euphoric and free of pain and any thoughts other than warmth. Imagine that the vitamin's effects will wear off rather quickly. Imagine the vitamin is rather costly. Imagine after weeks of taking the vitamin you begin to notice that the good feelings it gave you are no longer present and you are only taking the vitamin so you won't feel sick and cold and alone and depressed. Imagine the vitamin is making you steal money from your mother's purse to buy more. Imagine the vitamin is making you hold up your local corner store. Imagine you only desire the company of the vitamin, your friends and family no longer matter. Imagine being done with the vitamin but knowing that the vitamin is not done with you, not until it has destroyed every meaningful relationship in your life, ****** your soul dry and killed you.

Now, you are offered a choice: this imaginary vitamin, or your life.

Choose your life, choose your friends, choose football in the street, choose walks in the park with your sister but whatever you do, don't choose ******.

Although my eyes were on the movie screen I could not help but watch you.
I noticed every shift of position, every tap of your foot, every blink in your eyes, and every licking of your lips.
I noticed when your mouth curled into a smile and when your hands clutched your shirt.

Although my body was occupied drinking half bitter coffee my mind was transposed onto the image of us I had swiftly conjured up in my own head.
    
Although
my bed will only have me in it tonight, my fingers will be running through your hair and down your spine. My legs will intertwined with yours and our hearts shall beat in time to the flowing of a poem.

The splitting of years was spent in a small room with a lovely group of nine people, surrounded by smoke and the sounds of the nineties.
Elena, with her laughter infused with gold.
Liam, with his thick dark curls.
Fritz, with his polite disregard.
Jonah, with his Iron Maiden shirt.
Kelly, with her eyes of nature.
Hannah, with quite understanding.
Erin, with her love of all things beautiful.
Dylan, with his smile of a deep purple.
Dennis, with his acid fried heart, still beating with love.

Beautiful people and beautiful dreams.
Here's to a beautiful year.

you hadn't spoken to me in four days
so i mixed enough screwdrivers and desperation
to mistake his strawberry blond hair for your black
and i can't remember saying yes or no
but i woke up covered in blood and bruises.
i patiently waited 23 years for love
and let solely your lips on mine
preserved for three in anticipation
only to give up in a grimy bathroom
to a boy with no last name
and a girl awaiting him upstairs.
life is not always a storybook.
later that night a girl sobbed on my bare chest
and told me never to trust anyone
that people will invariably let me down
that she wished someone had warned her
when she was like me
she said my wide-eyed naivete
was a bulls-eye
and i must not charge into battle
without armor and sword.
maybe this was a lesson i was supposed to learn
when you slurred it angrily last year
but my words are my white flag
and i've never been much of a fighter
so i'll start my breakneck pace towards heartache
with the exhilaration of foresight
and blinders for those with shields
until you cut me down.

In the dark corner of the room
Sits a woman curling her toes
Whispering an empty tune
Under pretentious lies
And cheap perfume
A dead stare meets the eyes
I stand still, not moving
Afraid to stir sensations
In a dark room
Bathe in deprivations
An open cut of the flesh
Pouring streams of red
Seep into ragged clothing
Yet still she remains
Trapped domestic restraints

In the dark corner of the room
Sits a woman painted black and blue
Faded gold hair covering emerald greens
Porcelain skin no longer valued
Abuse for any and all means
The stench of blood is everywhere
But the fear is palpable
So do I continue seeing?
Do my eyes deceive me?
Is she really a human being?
Thinking was not an option
As I step into crimson walls
My only doubt in all of this
"Do I have moral courage?
Or am I the precursor to all of this?"

Am I human?
Am I human?

A black stiletto lost in the throws of passion, kicked to lie far under the bed. Poor shoe forgotten in the heat of love making, forever separated from the perfect smoothness of your slim left leg.
The soft kisses, your arms holding me tight, a simple shoe left bereft at the end of the night.
Come morning the stiletto eluded us.
“It doesn’t matter” you said your soft lips finding mine. Full of the joy of our love making you left your face radiant a single shoe clutched in your hand.

---

You stand perplexity giving way to anger, A slim black stiletto points straight at my heart.
“What is this? It isn’t my size. No lies. Who is she? You *******”.

It was a victory really,
leaving this town, if only for a few days.

The drive was long, seven hours long,
but it was fun, an ounce of *** fun.

****** and in the dark
we set our tent up next to the beach.

When the moon rose and the waves grew louder
we opened our bags and procured brown mushrooms, which we ate.
A mile down the beach the mushrooms took effect
and I looked up at the stars
to find them looking back at me,
and it felt as if nature slapped me in the face
and I had to sit down.

We continued on,
stumbling and laughing and pointing at all the beautiful things we saw.
After a few hours, my brain took me in a direction I was not prepared to go.
You see, a beautiful girl appeared in my mind,
and I wanted nothing more than for her to spark the gas in my chest,
and allow me to shoot up into the stars,
the stars we have so often talked about.

But I could not feel her warmth,
and I could not touch her skin,
and I could not see her eyes.
And so I sat,
swimming in my mind,
observing burning cigarette after burning cigarette,
the smoking flowing in one ear
and out the other,
changed,
woven into intricate patterns.

Everything was beautiful,
and she was not there.