"My heart beats so strong, you can see it through my shirt"
I wanna feel that beat moving up my skirt
And my body with my skin
Tingling
Pace, pace, back and forth
"Your heart feels fine girl, no worries, what's the worth?"
A big strong boy with Polaris eyes
I can feel your body tense
Thinking about mine
Beat em up baby, there you go
I'm sorry I woke you up last night
And the night before
Always bringin my girls, what a world
In your room  
It's the safe place
To come back and party
When babygirl is throwin up,
And I need to feel okay
You just let me do it, go with it, always
I know when you're mad, when it hurts,
You press up against the couch and the clouds come down
From their place in the sky,
Of your eyes, they pour
Harder and harder, now my hips are sore
Cause I told you more, I told you "more!"
And when you moan its like a lions roar
You're the king of here, breathing in my ear
Down my neck in the bed
You taught me everything I know
How to control a boy, destroy his soul
But you're a catch, got it bad
Think I finally met my match
Now when I'm making em shake
I'm thinkin of your hands
Coulda never been such a good lover
Such a good sucker and *** shaker
Such a "Please don't go baby, come back, *******!"
I wouldn't have learned how to **** around  
If it hadn't been for you, tuts

I smoked a pack while we unraveled white and black.
Wrapped in your bare sheets I slept best.
Dewey skin in the morning light,
candy tongue
tulip two lips.
Alarm goes off you ignore it.
I loved messing your hair up.
You look better that way.

I danced around naked on the pedestal you plopped me on
as I let you sketch me.
You scolded to stand still and slapped my *** when I didn't listen,
but you looked so cool holding your paintbrush in your teeth,
studying my figure,
peeking around the easel with your big eyes and crooked smile.

I always left with stains on my hands and your jacket
on my shoulders with a new Camel in the pocket.
Your hand slid down my jeans and I bit your lip.
I could have finished you.

You were so mean to me constantly,
and I curiously indulged in your temptations.
Your ecstasy whispers in my ear.
But there's something special about being loved
by someone who hates everyone.

You thought I was interesting.
Thought I was pure in my mini skirt, but tough
because I never cried when you were yelling.
I just yelled back.
Thought I was brave and wildly adventurous,
standing on edges and throwing things your way.
Even I thought it would be different this time.

But I should've probably listened
to you when you used to tell me not to get my hopes up.
That way I wouldn't be here,
praying, which I never do
that you didn't mean it and you didn't want me to ever have
to know
why you didn't come home.

You would rather
it be expected than me be disappointed
when it's the morning after and you're lying there restless
while you're passed out in the back of a van,
shoes off,
shirt hanging off your back,
with cuts from cans on your hands.

*** doesn't make a sound.
It's the loudest way to shut someone up.
It's the silence that cures.
It's the cork stop in a bottle,
but it will glimmer when you spin it upside down.
I'd love to smash it.

I came in that afternoon and burned the edges of your drawings with my lighter,
smeared the charcoal on all your new pages,
and stamped my boot until all your brushes were in half.
I picked up your jacket that I sewn a special patch in
with my initials,
and I hit snooze when your alarm went off.
You didn't move.

I watched the dewy skin of your back rise
and fall as you were breathing,
sheets ruffled,
pillows on the floor,
empty side next to yours,
all alone.

I decided you look better that way.

i always fidget with my itches
then itch raw with each digit
of the rigid way we squirm with
words we feel to be explicit

but rearranged we're indifferent
without the frame we're elicit
no stopping shame that exhibits
the way your brain always listens

even in pain it's persistent
you can't prohibit the accident
of unwitting existence
don't say sorry to the superstitious fiction
stay judicious

just ease your mind with the lyrics
and grind the grass to find distance
don't mind, the path meets resistance
the system we're in's nonexistant
i'll build a fire ladder for each fallacy
and scale every rhythm

just cleaning out all desire
mind going off like a piston
mankind don't need this fine attire
but the dior keeps us christian
not built to feed to designers
only a liar does glisten
yet we find ourselves requiring
our own kind of inquisitions

in addiction and prison
a shiny label don't listen
so without your permission
i'll find my own set of prescriptions

she’s sweet like wasabi
and wicked like cinnamon.
she sleeps alone and she lives alone,
but she has the trees and the dirt and the birds,
so she isn’t really alone.
there’s ivy vining its way up her legs,
and cobwebs collecting around her chest,
but she holds hope like an amulet,
like someday someone will brush them away.
breathing isn't always easy for her
because she still carries the moon in her chest,
so she's got a heartbeat like a hex.
she’ll spider her way into your heart,
but before you know it she’ll disappear.  
she’ll be here as long as she can,
but she’s dangerously human.

This One Time,
                        I stripped naked
        and ****** my couch.
This other time
  I threw a copy of The Fountainhead
at an RV moving at 64 miles an hour
  I have a tree
            In the foothills
    named Clementine Valencia Jeff
  and the same day, me and John
made a religion with Adam based
       on cloud formations
      You see, I'm a weird guy
         I got
           I got problems
      I see a therapist
           Her name's Rhonda
        She likes Batmaa aaaaan
     She sees people worse than me
        but recognizes I got problems
     and she
         she tries to help
       cause
            cause I got problems
      and the
         and the problem
                   with having problems
         is
           is function
   You
         You can't do anything
  You live to defy expectation
  And - and it's really hard
     to get into college
    You never really get accepted
       and and
            and even if
        even if you do you
            you
               you never really accept that
  It's hard out there for a freak
I get lost within my own
       ridiculous quandaries
  You feel like you're not
    you're not built right
      like something's wrong
  and you just punch and
    and kick and
       and destroy
   Whatever feels des-
           destroy able because it gives
   purpose
     Bu
       But I finally think I -I
               found my mantra
My my
       My compass thing
   My map whatever


   It has the same number of
letters of something very very dear
     to me
   and
      and that holds meaning
  I
    I wrote it on the back of my door
      my door
  and- and I sprayed it on a
           shirt
  I actually got it from a videogame with
   with a
    with Ayn Randian themes
   It's religious
  and
   and every night now
before I go to sleep
     I
       I- I look into Neil Patrick Harris's
        eyes
   feel the warmth of my wonderful blanket
  admire some handiwork
    read about serial arson
close my eyes and tell myself
     She is our Salvation