i am not who i present myself to be
i am who i am who i am is not me.

I can’t hear
anything
because sound
doesn’t live
in my ears,
it lives out of
everyone
and
everything
else
and it
slinks
into me.

i am not yours to keep

and his face
is much like
any other
faceless face
but his mind—
oh darling,
but his mind is
*enigmatic

My mood and this rain.

I wish I had someone to hold my hand and tell me exactly how the world works so that I wouldn't have to go on making so many false movements.

You should hate me but you don't.
You should hate me but you won't.

You made me feel lonely,
hollow enough to sink into a
tub of suds,
humming songs of loves and
those lost within it,
you made me feel lonely enough
to want you to stay

Happy people
make me sad.

he has his demons of his own.
he has to, kind as he is-
to have fallen for something
as cruel as you.

i don't have a heart for you to break

there's this girl I know
who has never fallen in
love. people keep saying,
"how empty she must feel."
I keep thinking,
"how free she must be."

this won't
save your life
or even your
neighbor's
but it will
make you feel
better.

i once had a dream i kissed you on a ledge and fell into the deep seas of smoke that your lips erased me with. i want to be made of the lust you drag with, it isn't that simple is it

I'm pretty sure I die with you every night. Miserable souls always seem to last the longest in this sent from hell world. Here comes the manslaughter, the impending doom of it all, the sideways games and glances that leaves my seat wet and my neck hungry for your hands, here comes the tragedies, mistaken suicidal attemptants at kisses that stream tripping in between sets and hollow stairs painted down my hips with the fire of you. Here comes the luster that doesn't lack. I think. Today would be a good day for everyone to disappear, including me, into you but you won't incline your hips into me 'cause last night I told you I once tried to **** a real good song so that I could own it's rights and lefts while spiraling into your lungs like a jail's black tongue. Here comes the poems and cults that Shakespeare shot down my inner thighs as you tattooed my lungs with the **** of your cigarettes. Here it all comes to ridicule me deeper into the middle of this crisis, here it all comes to take a toll on the planes of my mind as I shoot up high into sage tainted milli-universes. Here comes folded dollar bills cupped and lined against the tusks of my milky breath toned to the centerfold of your abdomen, here comes the part that hurts just a little bit more each time you come around. Here comes knowing you.

He called me.
I listened to him
as he leaves
me a message
on the house phone.

"Hey, I know
that we aren't really
talking anymore but.
I miss you.
Call-"

I picked up the pone.
Just to listen to him
say, "Hello.
Hello.
Marie?"

Before he sighed
and hung up. I just
needed to hear my
name rattle through
the case of his mouth
and hit me.

I think I miss him.
But I can't be sure.
I think I just
miss the way
rings me.

If there's one thing no one gets to see me at it's at my utmost misery. I revel in that and in that alone, I heave long chains of smoke that bubble gum, snap and pop, I have to say I can't believe we've made it this far, you and I. But on the crook of this spinning night I sit simply with a stranger to the right of me at my dinner table. I can't say I feel much towards this situation besides lonely indifference, like the tingle my nose gets if I rip for too long, I can't say it's been much of an amusement, his voice hums dumb like a drone.

I can't say that I know exactly what you want from me at this very standstill, I'm trying to remember how to breathe you in without becoming enraptured in the thickcut essence of you but on a day like today when my confidence frays at the slightest quiver of your lips, I couldn't say what I'm most in a haze about, the idea that you see me or the fact that you so frequently forget me, but it doesn't hurt me, it doesn't.

rinsed my mind clean of the words that caved in on me with the whiskey on your breath.

i demand
a certain
amount of
warmth
from every
body I lay
next to.

my tongue curls as i light my ciggie boy and pull in, fire to a furnace, i wait for ash to spill as i tick near its tip, and of you, much like the wind, my mind wanders and shifts and settles, steady mania spirals through me, grabs me and drags me by the spine. if it wasn't for the hood of my sweater, my head would've blown away with the dead leaves of my backyard's oak tree.

You fill your voice with sand
and I, with air.

when i was young
i froze the world between my fingers
and as it fell, I married it's teardrops
between the balms of my feet.

be careful who you lay with
everyone's so sure of themselves
morally nowadays
they remember to forget that
they are human.

how they'd handle this situation is
different when they aren't in
this situation.

be careful who you lay with.
And who you go back to.

I imagine him so                perfectly          without       -       me that when he's       w i t h me       -      I don't even recognize him.

the heart is a mirror that reflects nothing but organs

I never really understood how I coukd crave and understand anymore like I do you.

tell me,
I used to say to him
whenever we were
tense in the festering
breaths of an argument-
do I bleed like all of the
others

I like it when he
rests his head
on my shoulder
as if to let me know
that he is really
here with me
and not just another
sick memory
from what we were.

I like the way
his hair strands
tickle through
the sheers of my
shirt, breeze
sifting through
the vents of his lips,
cooling my warm skin.

He is *here.

I can't stop thinking

i rubbed salt on my lips and drank nothing but whiskey for seventeen hours while cleaning to help me forget you but you it only numbed me further into the idea of you.

I heave heavy breaths and I **die.

never let me leave this bed again
tie me steady to the palm of your breath and sift me quietly into a blue dream, leave me candied between the yams of your thighs as my eyes rolls sallow down the slot of your tongue, I am your-count it- 1 2 3- option on this languid roster, number E L E V E N on the back of your ******* mind and number  O NE for the title of 'most sought after and forgotten' tell me, how do you see me. how do you see me. how do you view me. can you even see me? Or is it only during your odd dips and lows when you need new energy to help you feel again. I have to say from level nine to ten, that's how much I hate you and I swear to this dude, I'll never ******' show it.

every once in a while i stay awake and dream of you.

I'm sorry
you had
to leave.

I'm sorry
I have
to stay.

she covers mirrors to hide the light, only ever showers at night when she can't glow, stays certain beneath this winter's dry cloak and breathes heavy like a sea bended on her ex-lover's knee. she hugs the sky with her mind's eye and pukes in mellow shades of green. she hides in front of open doors, kisses her swollen feet, pounds her head against brick walls and waits to bleed. she holds her happiness within the browning palm of her hands and watches the ripples of the wind blow her away.

the parantheses
on either side of your lips
do not say that you've spent
your life crying.
I'm guessing
you've smiled some
and laughed some
and if my presence is
what brings those lines
a great chance to deeper
set upon you, I'd like to
give you all of the chance
this world could lend you
to be a little bit happier.

Don't tease me with the pursuit of death. If you're going to destroy, please just go on and do it.

I'd like to say, now that it's subday,
blessed be the ***** that slits red like the **** laced raven, my chest beats steady like the pulse of you, lily lime green and keen. I am yours.

I am your, mint lean, get to know me but never forget her, I am hers and your story folded over and mistaken.