Waste time with me
just for a little longer
and we can finally be free.

Free from the rushing lights,
free from the starless nights,
free like stringless kites
soaring through the vast skies.

Sundays will come
no matter what,
yet let's see if we can
last just a bit longer
and maybe touch me
just one more time
until the long wait
between now
and next Friday.

I woke naked atop a sheet lying on the floor
next to a pile of plastic hangers on one side,
her body pressed to mine on the other,
and the faint scent of *** and cigarettes on the air.
Although I doubt you could call it waking
when she and I had such little sleep.

Her alarm was going off somewhere in the haze
and I could feel her skin peel off of mine as
she got up to silence it and call out of work.
I took a deep breath, reveling in the stale air,
and sat up with my back pressed to the wall.
My eyes closed and flashbacks came to the
forefront of my vision from the night before,
my mouth full of her neck,
moans in the dark,
her face leaning out of the window above me
as I smoked outside in my boxers.

I shook myself awake
and the goddess strode her way back in
slowly and salaciously, in a dance with
my tired eyes as they traced the faint figure
that shone through her loose shirt
in the morning light.

I could feel the little time we had
slipping through the curved
hourglass of her body,
and I stood to meet her smile
with a kiss, pulling her against me
with one hand and losing the other one
somewhere in the oceanic waves of her hair.

The flashbacks came again, but differently now.
Years of memories coursed through my mind,
all the times she'd been right in front of me
yet I was too blind to truly see her as I did then.

We dressed slowly in the din of the busy street outside,
gathering the last of her belongings in the empty apartment
and taking them down to her car.

I stepped into the sunlight and lit up a smoke,
it was going to be a hot day,
and she locked the door behind us for the last time.

The car welcomed us as she turned the engine over,
and I buckled up whilst cracking a beer.
The wheels began to spin, I took a long slug,
and she smoked the last three drags of my cigarette,
flicking it carelessly out of the window.

It's not easy
trying to decide
on whether to run
or whether to hide.

Because she's a storm,
a torrent of sorts,
and I'm terrified of
falling overboard.

peanut butter and jelly


smooth crunch,
dilapidated layers,
crushed into,
nuts and margarine,
it seems those screams,
in dreams are clarity,
in reality,
whispers of margins,
so close,
shaves and wavy days,
charging in %’s in head rests,
pieces left in indents of you,
on the mattress.
The fact is,
subjective to the
context of sparks,
ignited by espionage,
rubber gloves,
the ****** scope,
from afar,
how did we cope
before they put us together,
in jars.
The antithesis,
of all we can be.
Weak at the knees.
Peanut butter and jelly,
ready to eat.

What I am trying to say is,
I am well aware that it matters not whether I am with or without you;
I will keep moving,
but I much prefer your limbs with my limbs,
and I enjoy the tragedy you think makes you unable to be loved,
and I'm sorry I didn't touch you a little bit longer,
and when you're here I feel it,
and when you're not I feel it too.

by : Alexandra Crawford

You are a model of a modern major failure
A martyr to yourself
Breathing the narcissistic carcinogen
The egos fermentation
Spewing like mayflies from your mouth
Your words hold naught even air
Like the boy who cried wolf
And the bird who mockingly rhymes
You were not perfect
But ****** you were mine!

Again we've come 'round, baby,
living in this dead end town.
When I stop to think about
the days gone by,
it makes me resent
all the decisions
that I was too afraid to make,
and all the time we've wasted
not ******* the nights away
or robbing banks together
or traveling the world
or going to plays
or just loving each other.

I resent all this wasted time
spent alone, baby..

But, maybe if we did end up together
you'd turn out to be
a real numb ****,
and I'd be longing
to be alone.

I'll never know.

The hate is killing me.

These cigarettes hate you.
This beer hates you.
These shots of brandy hate you.
The blunt hates you.

But I swear I still love you.