For our anniversary
you gave me a rope necklace
Then got angry when i started
chocking on
my
words.

Crazy, hazy me.
                    Is that all I can be?
                         I tell no lie,
                    For I have no idea,
                   of where I am going.
                           I'm going,
                      but will I arrive?
                   This is my question,
                           every day.
                  Destination unknown.
                            It's vague,
                    no transparancy there.
                       Should there be.
                   Destination unknown.

you are so ******* attractive and it annoys the hell out of me.

i write poetry in fifty seconds or less
sometimes the words taste like salt
and sometimes like maraschino cherries

i wonder if my blood is red or if it's purple
because pain no longer feels like the color red,
it feels like numbness, cold unsaturated color.
red is diamond and fire and volcano
and it doesn't seem fair to call myself eruption.
it would be more accurate to say that i'm sand dune
and flood
and hurricane,
something that doesn't burn painfully
but slowly sinks into your skin
like water
until you breathe in what you thought was air,
but really it's not oxygen anymore,
it's me.

this one tasted like salt.

*(a.m.c.)