yeah, I lived in a
supernova
once.

there weren’t as many
stars as I would
have liked to
imagined

but the parties
were great
& you could leave
whenever you
wanted


I think I stayed because
no one really
saw me


I left once I got
tired of
solving puzzles in
the dark

the sky was red
with your
fury

when you thought
it wouldn’t
show

the night made it
seem snowy
if you tilted your
sight at
the proper angle


the train down the
avenue
moved so hauntingly
between the
trees


& I couldn’t find
your soul this
time

she lives for the days when
she doesn’t mind
the wind through her hair
or when he was always
in the way

just a few nights
prior
he had twisted her wrist
& she’ll never recall
why

she would freeze this stage
with her heart if she
only could
just to find that tiny scratch
of leeway for
the missing nap
& untouched presentation

of where is my old motivation?

you are pretty with your
words, sir
but ugly with your touch
& tone

now hand me that feather-tip pen
& I’ll write you a
new one

life is cold outside
& my breath is
pure winter

pure inspiration
pure intrigue

with every yawn
is intensity
& uncomforting vibrancy

but I must push through


ｂｒｅａｔｈｅ
ｂｒｅａｔｈｅ
ｂｒｅａｔｈｅ


the lights are all
dancing


& they’ve yet to
teach me
how

eventually you’ll see
the side
of taking scissors to
conversation

lovely languages of
instance
& small talk you won’t
ever recall

no need for such
concern;
she’s no longer bitter
but she can’t help
a smile
at just how very unhappy
he must be

strangers give embrace to
her intuition
& she’d prefer to stay on
the same page
but only for this day

if he takes time to talk
to her wings
perhaps they might
grow

but only under his clever
guidance
& unmasked, ruthless
tongue

when will they learn to
love with their unbridled,
innate charm?

he’s a cannibal of
his own colors
& she’s just a renegade
paramour

you are my constant


my only constant


you keep me living


although I may be livid


you might not see, dear


just what we’re here for


so don’t watch me waste


another beautiful day

little to no progress
has been made
& she’s craving all the things
she isn’t supposed to
crave

like a quart of rosato
& a bottle of
vicodin

she does not bless this mess
& her only resolution
is to **** it up
even more

what happened to
summer camp
& only caring about
jesus and
three lane super
slides?

she stole the last drop
of raspberry
& it stung her throat
turned her lips to flames

yet
it was still so sweet

how can there be such an
air of serenity in
this place
when in her heart there
is nothing but
turmoil?

only three pills to last
the weekend
& she doesn’t want
any of them

but they’re the only
substitute
for life at this
moment


she is low
again


a dangerous, dangerous
kind of low