“As for Charles – he likes girls. If he’s drunk, I’ll do. But – just when I’ve managed to harden my heart, he’ll turn around and be so sweet. “
“You like him a lot, don’t you?”

The night crumbles to dust as I trace
every single crease, every nook, every edge of you.
I drink you in, you drink cheap wine:
you only kiss me with alcohol in your blood,
you cannot stomach me without
the drugs.
A pile of cigarette ash on the floor,
broken glass. Shattered ice cubes and
cigarette butts.
It’s a scene of decay; you and I
could only survive if you whispered
sweet nothings and I let you gut
me. You lead me on and I always
slip, and touch you and believe
this time will be the time you stay,
this time will be the time you remember last night
morning come,
this time will be the time
I
am
the
one.
It rains the first time and there’s a bottle
of scotch; we play cards; you’re drunk:
I strip you off; tonight you smile; tonight
you will not mind if I touch
your jaw
your lips
your waist
and below
and your heart
no – never your heart.
Then it’s a matter of time.
You always come when you need me and I
can never refuse to be the one
who lets your tongue
explore my mouth
if only drunk
if only for a while
if only for the night.
I’m there. I will do. For now.
I kiss
your lips
your throat
your neck
your collarbones
and down – way down – below
and your heart
no – never your hear.
You twist me round your little finger and I
would die and die and **** and die
a thousand times
to have you look at me and say
I’ll stay tonight*.
My Charles.
No – never mine.

everyone i've written about
has left me.
so you must understand
why i will not immortalize you
with my words,
why i won't turn you
into a poem.

maybe this way
you'll stay.

hey, you say
he smiles and you
light up
he throws his arm around you
and replies, hey, bud
you want to cry and trace his lips
and make him
mutter your name
while you have
your tongue in his mouth
you want to touch him,
trace the map of your heart
all over his skin
but he can't know
he won't know
if only he knew you'd be dead meat
with ****** carved on your skin

she grins at you
and loops her arm through yours
and shows you her bra
does this dress make me look fat
and you wish you could say
you're beautiful
and touch her back as you
slide the dress down her sides
but she chuckles and says
i think that boy is cute
why won't he ask me out
and you know
she can never know
she won't ever know
if you ever touch her
she'll push you away
yell, ew, a ****

you're oh so pretentious
you, such little poser
you've only ever been with guys
you don't know what it's like
to be with a lady
what a grand faker
you're so not special
shut the **** up

you're being ridiculous
don't you like ***
well you've never had it
find someone to put you in bed
I promise you'll like it
the best time you've ever had
now don't be a freak

here's something unheard
not in *** ed
and not at home
who sleeps with whom
is a business of their own

the clock is ticking off  one painful thousandth of a second at a time
i feel like alice chasing the rabbit
except you are the hole i'm falling through
if only time could stop
if only i could drop
the needle that you are
my drug
if only indulging
in hallucinogenic substances
would make it stop
the pain of you
the pain that's you
if only i could drop
the clock
and break it.
stupid alice, it's not a rabbit you're chasing
it's a maggot
and it's eating you
i
n
s
i
d
e
out

i bought a pack of cigarettes tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
i sat on the stairs in the yard of the old house with its walls crumbling,
with its facade turned to dust.
the air was so cold it stung my fingers, frost licking my face,
turning my cheeks blood-red but nothing hurt
as much as you do.

i smoked a cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
the smoke filled me up and i feared
it would leak out of all the holes you punched in me.
it didn't. i choked and i coughed and it felt a little like drowning.
like your mouth on my mouth, like your teeth on my neck.
i choked and i coughed and it felt a little like you
so i liked it.
who cares i almost died.

i smoked a second cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
nicotine ran in my veins,
blue rivers along my pale skin and it felt, it really felt
a lot like love. a lot like you. a lot like us.
galaxies scattered across my skin, poison running in my blood,
yes, it felt a lot like us.
i didn't choke this time, but i think you would have laughed
at the way i ******
on the cigarette ****.

i smoked a third cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
i swallowed cancer like a drug and it stung
at the back of my throat, and it burned and it burned and it burned
as ash gathered at the burning end
and fell to the ground like snowflakes,
little flakes of ash on my sneakers
and it reminded me of your kisses a little, i didn't choke this time.
i laughed. a bitter laugh.
you hurt at the back of my mind as i put
the cigarette out and i thought about the way
you'd look at me, boldness in your eyes, hair a little all over
the place and your mouth
shaped in a little "o"
as you blew circles of smoke out.

i smoked a fourth cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
the cold stung but not as much as my lungs burnt and my brain burned
and you hurt.
i blew smoke out but never quite like you did,
and i thought it looked and was a little
ridiculous maybe
to burn the leaves of a plant wrapped in paper
and fill our fragile bodies with the exhausts
we breathe out smoke like broken steam engines,
ain't it funny, haha.
you'd laugh, harshly, you'd bite me, you were always
a little rough.

i smoked a fifth cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
it's not half as venomous as you were, i decided.
i put it out.
cigarettes are so not worth the hype.
you were.
you are.