you say “let’s go for a drive, put the top down”
and i do and i drive
and you tell me to slow down
that i’m doing it wrong
and that sounds like a perfect example
of who we are now.
i gotta stop thinking it will be like
the other times before
things fell apart.
it hurts me more than it hurts you
and i know it hurts you more than anything.

i’m not sure that my body
knows how to handle
excitement or fear
but on the bright side
i think i’ve found a way
to cope with the answers to questions
i still don’t know how to ask.
i really do love myself sometimes.

i could just put on your jacket
i shouldn’t but i will
i’ll explain that it’s cold outside
that i just didn’t want to carry it
or i don’t know maybe
i could finally admit that i think
you should just let me keep it
i think it’ll end up in my closet
someday anyway

i helped a lady
take her groceries to her house today.
it was the same lady
i watched cross the street
it was the same lady
i didnt hear walk into the corner store behind me.
it was the same lady
i let the door fall onto.
i couldnt hear her.

she ended up ahead of me on the sidewalk.
grocery bags on the pavement.
phone on her ear.
i walked by her.
she apologized
said she was trying to get help.
we walked together.
she told me 'help' was on the patio
drinking a beer.
she asked where i lived
and i said a street over.
she said she hoped she'd see me around.
and i said maybe not, im going home for the summer.

she asked if i was getting out of the rat race
im too young for the rat race.

she thanked me a lot
and said
'some good karma will come your way
im a firm believer in that'

me too
i said.

i walked home and thought
i should write a poem about
that conversation.
about giving a second chance
about being a kind person.
about karma.

usually when something like this happens
i write the minute i get home

but i didnt.

i realized, i dont think i can write
about happy things
because when they happen
they always ferment until
they're not what they were.

it was a quick high
a genuine moment.
if karma is real
and that woman is right
either im the devil himself
or theres a big check
with my name on it.

before i started writing
i googled seasonal depression symptoms

apparently not talking to anyone between the months of february and may every year is still a horse with no name.

how do you **** a love
you made yourself.

i leave this town in a week
and i feel as broken
and confused
as the **** i tried to leave

all i want to do is jump in the river
to see if i can really swim
and figure it out from there.

sorry my time is off your hands
don’t mind me
just contemplating my
insatiable hunger for something that
doesn’t quite make any sense at all

maybe i’ll just order some Chinese
and call it a day.

i used to love you sober.



               i've been high for days.

" hey well, hope never dies!"



"yeah i know that's kinda been my problem recently"