i chase my jameson with the best of intentions
and each of my cigarettes with ****** tension

i guess i'm the best
at ignoring my own lessons

i've learned to trust each exception
     and never call a moment home

that's when i grow

in the universal record skip of an instant
that reminds me to question
absolutely everything i know

I know that
with your
little fixes
you're always
just trying
to help me get better
but
I am
so much better where
I am

exhausting
every possibility
of how I am
becoming
                 limitless

I won't take one more day
of being dulled down
to your level
Suppressing the rest of
what keeps me from hell
because your fragile grasp of power
is just that tangible

You say I stress on your spine
I know it's just that
my existence
escapes the boundaries
of your mind
when this exasperation
can't escape
when you so refuse all reason
I ache to break
the balmy surface of my skin
(in the end
I cannot win)

I know I owe you
for a life I never got to choose
for all these years
marked by faded bruises
though I love you
you've barely got
respect to lose

For only a few seconds
He was stood outside
Next to where she waited
In the heart of the moonlight,
Peeling back her unknown promises
Behind the hiss
Of a stuttering train
In a mystery of bleached hair,

And bright red lipstick
Tangled up in each others footsteps
On a uneven texture
In the mist
Before tossing her cigarette
Back into the
Middle of the river,

And with it
The last remaining evidence
Of the crime
They’d just committed
In black and white.

(Previously published at http://www.staxtes.com/2013/10/andy-n-of-stuttering-train-poetry.html)