the night we camped in my car
in the backwoods of the city
I had an anxiety attack
so we drove to a gas station
got some water and antacids
slept in the bowling alley parking lot
woke up with ice covering the windows
it was only 28 degrees that night
but we slept safely and we slept soundly
because ******* it, we had each other
-

sometimes my parents will ask me
"are you really going down that road again"
with such disdain and bitterness
and it just makes me so angry
because they do not realize that depression
is not a road one chooses to go down
and it is not a road one can easily exit
it is an unpaved road riddled with cracks and potholes
with no street signs or stoplights to guide us safely home
and to accuse someone of willingly taking that road?
well, that is how some of us end up there in the first place
-

it was the night I fell in love with the universe
the night I fell in love with myself
the night I fell in love with every hand that touched me
every petal on every flower in ever garden
I fell in love with the twinkle lights along the window
and the wind chimes that line the front porch

the one with the orange hair pulled me close
she promised we would always be sisters
and sealed the promise with a kiss on my forehead
she knew I needed that reassurance

the one with the freckles held my hand tight
she reminded me that I was as beautiful as the stars
and gave me her favorite rock to hold onto
she knew I needed that permanence

and the rest of us, we danced into oblivion
in a smoke filled room and on a candle lit porch
with jaws clenched and teeth grinding
I felt what it is like to be a human being again
-

sometimes I think I am loveless and cold, and that's why I hate the heat and get sick all the time
but she reminded me of all the love I do have
love that fills the room and echoes like a choir's song on a Sunday
love that burns through me like a match in a grassy field
I have love for the trees and for the river and for the smooth rocks and even for the jagged ones that cut my knees
there is love every time she forgets to put on sunscreen and there is love when I take care of her so she can be high on acid
I give love to my father and mother, who watched me destroy myself for years and held my hand as I walked out of the darkness
but I think most important of all
is that I have love for myself
for my scars and my freckles and my stretch marks and my illness and my flat feet and my small hands and my messy hair and my sweaty palms and for everything that makes me who I am
I have love
-

I paid for my father's day present with a twenty dollar bill that still had traces of ******* on it from the previous night's festivities

A pretty girl with blonde hair got a text from her dad while we were doing lines off of her phone (i love you angel, you make me so proud)

happy father's day to all the dads who have no idea what their children are actually up to
-

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Liberating or degrading
Hangs from single strings
Nothing comes and no one sings
No one laughs and nothing breaks
See the cracks drip down my face

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Fascinating fascist face
Flash-forward foreshadow
White cold lace
Not as durable as we first thought
But the car is packed
In the parking lot
I light the cigarettes we bought
And now there is no going back
Not back to there
Nor back to that
Not back to night
Nor back to day
Nor back to summers
Far away

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Forget my fascist family tree
The fascist fascist memory
And moustache moustache damaging
Or fresco firefly reverie
Just tell me that I’m yours
Sign the line
Like you have before
This is where we are right now
Two souls alive
In the empty town
Two souls alive
In the ******* ghost god-empty town.

So, What think you of Whitman?
And what say I of Plath?
I understand all but maybe half
On my greatest finest day
(dearest, how’d we get this way?)
How’d we fall so far from grace?
How’d this canyon split my face?
Maybe it’s the trace trace amounts of fascist.

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Friday fickle convocating
Tragic talent intubating
All the world smiles, undulating
But in the end
You’re still a fascist.

I often do the practice of looking for anomalies in dreams.. What I mean is the small things that do not make sense in reality..  Its a trigger point I give my dreaming self to let him know he is dreaming..  Then anything is possible.. And I do mean anything..

The first thing I do is fly!  I float at first very slowly..  As if there is no gravity.. I have no control at first but then realize I can do what I want..  I then jet through the skies over Earths oceans.. Majestic blues..  I fly over storms and see the lightning dance from above..  I then look to the stars.. And I want to go beyond..  I fly outside of Earth and into a strange expanse my mind creates..  I visit other Planets and see new forms of life..  I then share them here with all of you! I smile at the thought of this being an eternal ride.. Where I will never be able to discover everything..

So the doctor said her foot
Was broken.
Yes, I like a woman tough,
But it's been two months
Since it started hurting.
Suppose few things are as
Subjective as pain.

I rub my right hand when it's
Cold. The one I crushed
Between two containers.
Crane driver was still
Drunk from breakfast;  
Suppose few things are as
Subjective as responsibility.

We're all scars. Broken bones
And bruised hearts.
Embarrasing memories and
Bitten bullets.
Walking on broken feet until
They heal.

Suppose few things are as
Subjective as
Growth.

I feel like there is rocks in my aorta
There is sediment blocking my capillaries
There is pebbles filling my lungs
There is sand irritating my eyes
There is gravel eroding up my esophagus
There is a landslide coming out of my mouth
There is an earthquake rattling my stomach
There is a boulder weighing down my mind
There is a hole in me no mountain can fill