water
freezing us to shore,
the illusion of safety
and whatever else is left out here.
my clothes on the grass,
his and hers in a tree
this drug—
so unkind to the tortured mind.
i left my brain smeared across the
common room,
with bits and pieces on my best friends cheek
while she cried for me.

i’m walking alone
and i’m tripping through
the softness of a midnight
swing,
we kept talking about
california
like it was a solution
to a problem.

i’m still quite
convinced that it is.

but like i have said before
i’m starting to really lose it
and everyone likes to tell me
that most things aren’t beautiful
and i see it less and less in the
moonshook skylights.

but my friends came over to my house
and it was late
with lots of different vices
and we sink
into our addictions,
maybe they’re not always that bad
if they mean
i can share them with the only people
to watch me shrink under the weight
of all of this ******* agony
still thinking i could paint the sky pink

cause the night time is
always illuminated
with our words that melt into
each others skin.

learning endlessly
about each others atoms
and i want to take the pain away
for whatever its worth and
carry it in my shoes,
walk to the nearest sunrise
and talk for a while longer.

in that light
white makes white go black
and those electric blue
waves of radiation
screws through the skull
hours of poison
pumping through the veins
strings grow brittle
and your will
written on my hands
like you stole something
you wanted me to have.

and i would live my life
over again
a million times
if i got to know you
when you were moved
by wind chimes
and the yellow bugs
that like the yellow flowers
would you have
loved me less if
you knew who i could be?

this whole time i’ve been
drinking salt from the ocean
and when you sleep
pressing one hand to your chest
and one to mine
to remember
you’ve got a heartbeat
that makes moves like mine does
because the blood in my veins
is your blood
and it feels like
a wild fire in my ribcage
when i look in the mirror and
see your nose and chin
and i want to die sometimes
so you don’t have to.
and to hear you laugh
every day because i know
no one laughs enough
anymore

the whole time you’ve
been teaching me
how to live
and what you’d leave
behind

it’s been a while

since i’ve written

because i forgot who i was

and i prefer not to write

as anyone else.

but strange

so strange.

just walking through

the aisles

of a grocery store

and suddenly

i’m no one

and i don’t know why

i’m even here.

in between the bread

and the canned goods

and someone filled the

building with

water

to the ceiling

and i am now swimming

because i guess

that’s what anyone would do.

but i’m always up at night,

now a days at least,

joking about ecology

with the pollenated air

and my lungs feel thick

with sweat and cinnamon

but the silver mooned streets

bleed sounds of angst filled poetry

and something about jazz music

at 4 am after the earthquakes

and bombs crash

so i wonder—

who stole the ribbons from the sky

and why did the earth get warmer

i’m back pedaling through

my no one mind

and when things get lost

they aren’t always found

and i don’t believe i’m even alive sometimes.

through the rattling and the

foggy colors,

grey black and blue --

bar lighting and smokey hues

i'm still searching for the truth

in between every word.

there you are still-
still ablaze
like you were when i first left
and when i second left
there became all this space
between my words when i speak
but they never sound as pretty as i think they do
so there you go.....
you stole the show once again
and your skin feels
like a sunburn against mine.
i want to die sometimes
because i break my own heart
and i steal the show
the words drip off of the page
the world starts to sink in
and i can’t count on myself to breathe,
let alone write worth a ****.
my love is so untouched, never disturbed once
in a tragic kind of way.

pavement scrapes beneath my feet
high on hash, howling at the moon
drunk on gasoline—
drowning in it.

i’m just trying to make it
to the promise land.
ya know,
where there is no road
and everyday is a ****** up holiday.

my sweat is sweet with whiskey
eyes burning red with angst
i might be ablaze
but i’ve never been afraid of being burnt.

so i drag myself through the 3am swoon
with money on my mind
when i’ve got none of it.
its hot
i’ve been counting my
teeth with my tongue
and i am searching for god
in the cracks on the side walk
but i’m walking alone
and the blood runs thick.

give me back
those two o clock's in the morning.
your warm mouth
the scent of whiskey in your lungs—
you speak,
everything is on fire,
and i have been wanting to burn with you.

you move under me
collecting stardust,
musing the inner stellar
planets
with your hot metal eyes
and they are looking at me
with all of their white hot
glow.

you see me,
quaking with a mouthful of stars,
kissing your hips
wishing we were somewhere more
explosive.

i never wanted to feel anyone
the way i feel you.

it’s been a while
since i’ve written
because i forgot who i was
and i prefer not to write
as anyone else.
but strange
so strange.
just walking through
the aisles
of a grocery store
and suddenly
i’m no one
and i don’t know why
i’m even here.
between the bread aisle
and the canned goods,
and suddenly someone filled the
building with
water
to the ceiling
and i am now swimming
because i guess
that’s what anyone would do
and i might be drowning
but there really is no way to tell.

the earth turns
and i’m always up at night,
joking about ecology
with the pollenated air.
my lungs feel thick
with sweat and cinnamon,
but the silver-mooned streets
bleed sounds of angst filled poetry
and something about jazz music
and an undying endless fury
at 4 am after the earthquakes,
and bombs crash
so i wonder—

who stole the ribbons from the sky,
and why did the earth get warmer?
i’m back pedaling through
my no one mind
and when things get lost
they aren’t always found
and i don’t believe i’m alive
sometimes when i find
rocks in my mouth, or
i'm choking on the air in
my house, and my cheeks
are burning hot enough to
burn the place down.
be still, through the rattling
of my ribcage and the
foggy colors --
grey black and blue,
bar lighting and smokey hues
i’m going somewhere but i will be back soon.