Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

there’s a sound at the base of my skull today
it goes beekbeekbeek
and then my shoulder goes numb
with fingers tapping out a rhythm I can’t control
or decide
if i am
as they crawl up my arm and across my chest
poking away at my cheeks
digging around inside
pulling out teeth
memorizing

I had a few unfamiliar mushrooms for breakfast,
And decided to have a picnic.
I got my berry basket and plopped two foxes in it.
I then staggered to the chicken coupe,
And told the hen to tell me the truth.
“What can you do with an egg?” I asked.
“Fake it” she replied.
“I could see dat” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
I walked out of the coupe, catching shooting stars on my tongue,
When I realized, I just had a conversation with a chicken.

I suddenly felt an urge to do so many things:
I could arrest all those screwdrivers for molesting those innocent screws…
Maybe I could get a balloon to bounce!
Oh…..wait, I didn’t take a shower today….
Meh, I’ll wait till it rains.
WOA what if I had a tail!? I would so drape it over my arm.
And who wants to breathe fire when it could be milk? I LOVE MILK!
Dam…. What if I start to shrink?
Eating my hat seems to fit.
***** this!.... I’m just guna eat some spaghetti with an axe.

Sometimes,
I wish that when my
break cable snapped,
(you know, the one you fixed for me with your falsetto expertise)
in a downpour of slashing rain,
I skid through the stale green light, turning red, like the leaves now on the trees.

I would be unable to stop, because of your spite
(you had it out for me all along)

I can picture it,
slow motion and horror,
gliding across pavement
until I become a physics problem:

"If Sally is riding her bicycle at a velocity of _, and a vehicle strikes her at a speed of _,  
how far will she fly through the air until splatting like an egg?"

I would feel satisfied
as you hung from a noose of guilt
just as you indulge in the power
of squandering the love city we built.

''I'm not convinced that I am doing it right." the little girl said,
And she tilted the glass so the insides slipped out.
The moon gazed down and shook his head,
"No, no, not at all, my dear, my sweet."
She hung her arms low, so her fingers grazed the soil.
"I'm trying, I'm trying!" the little girl moaned.
And from the dirt appeared a worm,
"Not enough, not enough." was all that she heard.

And down she fell to the ground in a heap.

The apocalypse was coming
I could hear it in the wind
You were my own personal hell
Waiting to rip me apart
I knew from the beginning
Why didn’t I run?

You were all lies and lust
But still I held on tight
Addicted to the feeling of
Your anger on my skin
It was better to feel pain
Than to feel nothing at all

There were moons in your eyes
Your touch got me high
The whiskey on your lips
Tasted like a flash of lightning
And you set me on fire
With every lonely kiss

And in the morning, I knew
I’d be bruised and scarred
Permanent reminders of our
Confused, twisted love
They represented your cruelty
And my ignorance

Then with delusional conviction
I would tell myself that even though
You’d ripped me to pieces and
Thrown me to the ground,
I love you in a twisted way
And you love me the same