this is a quiet town
where the roads are covered in snow. 
and I am the marlboro fairy, 
spreading my ash in the dead of night

with my hair in blonde knots
savoring the delicate drags of my cigarette.
all the little children sleep sound,
and dream of me.

my ghosted footprints
silently appearing beneath the streetlight

as ashes fly away with wind for sails
I barely am breathing out
nor making a sound.

I'm the marlboro fairy of midway drive
I'm a college freshman born in '95
I am the future of at least one of your children,
I am the cigarette butts stashed,
by the side of the building.

I have a life that I go back to at night,
I don't leave this house without a light.
there is dog hair and dust and ugliness
that waits to welcome me inside,

but I'm the Marlboro fairy
and I've got so much to hide.

everything was looking up
and I never knew that everything was about to go down.

the sliver of light between the blinds reached into my heart and burned an image.

sweat and love and smoke and *****
all smelled the same for a summer. 

my heart stopped keeping time because this was never going to slow down or end.

it wasn't even summer yet.
but I remember that smell.

I remember the feeling of waking up in the morning,
flip flops and long skirts.
cigarettes and heart bursts.

I thought I let it slip away.
but it's right here.
I wrote it in stone for you.
but it's more for me.

2-5-13

my muse has wandered and fallen
dead like the leaves that I stepped on last autumn.
when pain was still fresh
and snow hidden deep in the sky, 
time would come to peel you off my shoulders.

caught like a leech you scabbed and wounded,
the proverbial thorn has
been released from my side.
there will be flowers blooming in spring time.
another muse to use up a recycled line.

I watched the leaves fall into my nicotine clouds,  saw many an emotion
carried beneath a burial shroud. 

every death is a reflection on you.
every snowflake a shot at something new.

thinking of you
when the sun leaves the sky forever.
we both know that we are dying.

you could find me where the city stood
while my eyes burned bright
not unlike the skyline
but I could never find you again.

thinking of highschool smiles
skipping classes and standing in lunch lines
the way you spoke to me
like a small child
that needed protecting,.

thinking of nothing but the way you looked at me
and the way that I looked back into your eyes
waiting for you to walk into a room

thinking of you

feeling like I am always feeling;
just waiting for you to walk into the room.

"let her beg"
is all that needs to be said
because you know that I'm filled with cough syrup,
and tucked safe in my bed.

what you don't know is the numbness that spreads
when you're not here to stop it;
when the pain bubbles up and I use my razor to pop it.

you can't feel the heat or the coldness I suffer
you'll always have paul as your emotional buffer.

"let her beg"
I'm sure you said.

but it isn't just you that I'm begging.
I'm begging ashley to wake up,
and I'm begging andrew to watch her.
I'm begging myself to forget you,
and not get myself hurt.

9-17-12

7-12-12

cold for a july night.
hands cupped like a begging addict
trying to savor the heat of the flame
that spreads to the filter of the cigarette

now thats two wasted.

with all the times I've spent
sitting and debating if
this life is worth slitting my wrists
it's a miracle I'm still alive.

it's only seventeen julys
but if you ask me,
it's more like seventeen million.

my feet are cold.
in all senses including proverbial.