Five AM
can't sleep
my thoughts are having a rumbling party
with everything that could go wrong
and alcohol
but maybe that's all just my toxic thoughts
that won't let me rest
when I know there is a tomorrow
when I'll have to face it all again

I'm pretty sure I've been invited
to a date with Migraine
as I hear
Someone Like You
play in the stereos of my mind
and I start to remember
things and people I wish I'd forget
that I try so hard to forget
when I'm sober

Right now,
I'm drunk on sleep
and can't control the party
the toxins are getting to me
and I wish Sleep hadn't rejected me
so I could go back to its warm slumber
but it has long since kept
my cold sheets
feeling welcoming

Six AM
can't sleep
songs and people I used to know
and regrets and thoughts
still unforgiving
with the smell
of sleepy alcohol
drumming in my skull

Underneath laughing gowns
And clicking white heals
Fall lost hopes and dreams
Things we used to feel

Each red petal; now dead
Used to celebrate a new start
With friends and family and something blue
A fellowship of two hearts

And here I sit at the last row
Watching young flower girls sing
And clatter sounds as hands clap
When a finger bears a wedding ring

But those petals; red and crumpled
Lay suffering as they all applaud
And my memory recalls two more suffering flowers
And my fingers plucking a petal
And whispering
"He loves me not."

As the sun shines
On top of burnt heads
And warm, wrinkly smiles
Beam brightly

I can't help but wonder
That at this moment
The world is too perfect
Too perfect to go on like this

If I ran
The longest distance
Climbed
The highest mountain
Jumped
The tallest troubles
I still wouldn't be
Trained enough
To dodge your **Big head

I asked her,
"Why is warmth wanted rather than cold? Why is warmth more respected when it burns and sears?"

And she replied,
"Sh! The normal ones will hear you and think you're crazy!"

So I laughed
Because you see
(I am crazy)

But Hm.
We have not discussed this since
And I'm beginning to think
You've caught Normal too.

Tell Them
My Sweetheart
That I never wanted a funeral
But it was only
For tradition

Tell Them
Not to cry
Not to mourn
But rather
Sit in a circle, knee to knee
And share stories of me with them
Bad ones
Good ones
All of them so that I am seen
Even after death
As an imperfect human being

Tell them
To wear black skirts and no makeup
And high spiked boots
With skull rings
And silver chains
So that they remember my dark side

Tell Them
Not to miss me
Not the slightest
And instead
Await the day
They can see me again
If they pray I make it to heaven

Tell Them
To tell me their stories once in a while
I like a good laugh
I like a short smile
But even if not
They can tell me their doubts
And I'll listen
Because I love voices that talk to me
And reveal a journey

And when They bury me
Will you all pray
That I end up safe
Many many miles away
Away from you all
But still in your hearts
I'll be sewn
As tightly as my
Pursed, frowned lips

Tell Them
Sweetheart
That I never
Left
(because I was always right)