I don't know how many bottles of beer
I have consumed while waiting for things
to get better
I dont know how much wine and whisky
and beer
mostly beer
I have consumed after
splits with women-
waiting for the phone to ring
waiting for the sound of footsteps,
and the phone to ring
waiting for the sounds of footsteps,
and the phone never rings
until much later
and the footsteps never arrive
until much later
when my stomach is coming up
out of my mouth
they arrive as fresh as spring flowers:
"what the hell have you done to yourself?
it will be 3 days before you can **** me!"

the female is durable
she lives seven and one half years longer
than the male, and she drinks very little beer
because she knows its bad for the figure.

while we are going mad
they are out
dancing and laughing
with horney cowboys.

well, there's beer
sacks and sacks of empty beer bottles
and when you pick one up
the bottle fall through the wet bottom
of the paper sack
rolling
clanking
spilling gray wet ash
and stale beer,
or the sacks fall over at 4 a.m.
in the morning
making the only sound in your life.

beer
rivers and seas of beer
the radio singing love songs
as the phone remains silent
and the walls stand
straight up and down
and beer is all there is.

This has happened before.
And it will happen again.

This stage.
My most and least favorite stage
where I sit and think of you all day.

It's exciting.
And ever so self-destructive.
It's where I'm the most vulnerable,
and the most motivated.

The thought of seeing you
propels me through the day.
But I'm left disappointed
when you won't look my way.

It's like a self-proclaimed waiting room
inside my fantasizing head.
It's where I wait to see if you'll fix me.
I've been diagnosed with loneliness.

Is this fair? No.
But I do this to myself.
At least I don't focus
on possessions or wealth.

It's the cycle that I spoke of.
In that other poem.
Where I daydream of a boy
yet I barely know him.

When things don't work out
I am destroyed and relieved
I will never have him
And the cycle repeats.



This has happened before.
And it will happen again.
Where I sit in the waiting room
inside my head.

"I wish I had a cigarette."
The man as he looked down
at his half empty glass of whiskey
at the bar in Paisley Town

Little did he know what that dear
cigarette was bound to be
In the form of a strawberry blonde
no older than twenty-three

- J.S.

I poured myself into you,
as if you were a mold.
My imperfections spilling through your skin,
till you coughed up my failures.

I looked at your hands
and I found my callouses.

Broken and stained,
I slept on the couch.
Your skin started to feel cold,
I could feel it flaking off.
I have deteriorated you.

When I cut my own throat,
you choked on my blood.

Superman ain't super anymore.
He snorted all the kryptonite
and spilled some on the floor.
His cape is in the lost and found
somewhere on the underground
Superman ain't super anymore.

The Man of Steel's heart, colder now than steel
Lois slapped him on the chops
for trying to cop a feel.
Front page of the Daily Planet
Lois wouldn't let him have it
The Man of Steel's heart colder than before.

The problems of the world knock on the door
Superman has fallen down
he's sleeping in the hall.
Crying between fits of snoozing
wishing he could stop the boozing
The problems of the world knock on the door.

Let's play Hide-And-Seek.
I'll go hide,
and you have to find me.
Count to 100
and I'll off-
are you ready
here we go
1-10 keep counting
While I hide
20-28
it's up to you to figure it all out-
you sneaky cheat!
skipping right to 90
well fine then.
You think you can find me so easy?
you think you know where
and how
I hide?
You don't, trust me you don't.
Keep wandering, that's the way,
yes I was hiding there a minute ago
but not anymore.
Now I'm on the ***** of my feet,
stalking you,
like prey,
is that what you are to me?
I can't even tell anymore.
I wanted you.
I wanted you to find me.
If you find me you get my heart,
but that's the trick, see,
I'm not sure I want to be found.
So I'll change my spot
and keep running,
keep circling you and tracing your steps
I'll keep going until it's you that is hiding
and me that is seeking.
I'll ask you,
I'll ask the world,
count to 100
and come find me,
but each time
you get so close
a hairs breath away from finding me
Off I run
away
away
where you'll never find me.
Because that's the trick, see,
I don't want to be found.

"Have I ever told you how Beautiful you are?
I don't think I have but I could show you.
If you let me, I could kiss every little inch
of your face and leave no freckle untouched.
Your forehead; last. Idk who you're sometimes hurt by
but I hate your pain.
I just want you to know that there's someone out here
who wants you to be happy
& If I made you smile at any point in this message;
then I've done my job."

It's not a boy- so let me stop you there.
It isn't drugs either.

Everyone has an addiction.
Whether you like to admit it, it's there.

For some, it's a substance.
A-
grindable, smokeable, snortable
-substance.

For others it's an action.
A-
keep me busy, cleaning, eating, touching
-action.

For me, it's a cycle.
A-
god just look at him looking at me I want to be pursued what if he would touch me please come over me and touch me before I explode and my friend has to pick up the hot pieces I want to express this but I can't because I'm calm collective and sophisticated and mature and no one but Jackson Chesley Fenna Sarah Fish Alicia and Plum can know how desperately lonely I am I want to be with you oh my god you don't love me what's wrong with you what's wrong with me I can't believe that I waisted all of this energy on you I am so much better than that because I am calm, collective, and sophisticated
-cycle


Repeat.

someone I once (loved) kills himself every day
with various darkness and poisons
because he hates the way he was made
-
someone he once (loved) wakes up every day
with various dreams and flowers
because she learned to love the way she was made