you tell me
that we should
take things
slow
and I hope slow
is sweet like
how your words trickle
out of your mouth

I hope it's
lasting like
the smell of smoke
on your jacket at 3 am

and I hope
it's honest like
how it feels
legs tangled up in each other
and I'm awake counting shadows
on your ceiling

thinking that I've heard
of slow before
but it didn't quite feel
anything like you.

I want to be the
fallen eyelash on your cheek
carefully collected
coveted for a wish
or two
or three
I want to be the tree above your
head
and the roots below
I want to be everything
and so much more

however I do not want to be your cage
or your basket of broken eggs
I do not wish to be
your scratched records
to be replayed
I want your freedom as
you want mine

I just want to be the fallen eyelash
on your cheek.

tie smoke in
knots
and watch the
stars
fall faster
than
anyone will
ever
fall for

you

Sometimes
I wish my body
Was softer
In hard places
And my mind
Would soothe
In dark places
Sometimes
I wish I could
Press my lips
So quick
To liquids
That could numb
And other times
I don’t wish at all

You know those moments
Where your heart sinks into your
Finger tips and
Seeps from your eyes
And your stomach is thrown
in every direction
Rattling around in your emptiness
In darkness
in cool
wet complacency

Those moments when your mind magnet
Sticks to every minute
Detail
every smirk
and every imperfection
created by the human hand

When
Every anxiety
every foul taste
And putrid smell
Rush through your body all at once

I'm sorry
and I wish I meant it
It really ***** that your cozy,
cushy life here wasn't what you needed
but I already knew that
I already knew we were just a way
for you to get by
That my dad meant nothing to you
Now you have to work for yourself
and I bet
you
regret
it
don't you?

I’ve been seeing
Shadows at the foot of
My sleeping sound
Sleeping so
Much my back creaking
At the thought of moving
Moving on
Moving forward is
so hard when
You won’t let me go
Like the thousandth
Cigarette smoked
Back to back
And discarded on
My porch

I wake
I see you
And I beg
That you leave me
Alone

I dreamt you cut your hair
galvanized and grey
You are the graze
Of finger tips over
A dropped knife
Stuttered speech
Is the same as the way
You catch me
From across the room
And I’m sweeping
The fondness shed

I’m hoping the sunburn on my left shoulder freckles,
White spots to the white smoke
Pouring from my glove box
While I take the highway in
Sweat pooling at the base of my spine
I’d like freckles on my shoulders
More than crying shuffling around
Brownwood
More than the big hoodie
I can tuck my knees into
And more than
Any love thin
And distant in dialect

I’d like just a few freckles

my teeth crumbled
                        and
                      tumbled out of my mouth
      moon mask
why do you
bleed     green                blood?
              manifested
                lumps in my veins
    time can only tell
how    long        death              might                              take

It is hard to find
People
Who for small periods of
Time
Make you forget there is
Anyone else
In the world with you.

Try not to let those
People
Go.

Everything I made today broke
And I keep telling myself that
It’s ok
And to
Love the impermanence
And imperfection of
Creation

The disappointment of it all

And I just
Feel
Go-to-bed-at
8 pm
Sad about it
Ya know

I cried
Driving home
From the bar
But I just work there
Mostly
The moon I poked out
Of the clouds to
Taunt me
maybe -
I’m not sure -
But she was Beautiful
And big
And she was taking up space
I want to take up space
Steal light to give
Others when it’s
Dark

I’m no good at
Crying &
Driving
But I think
I’m good
I think
I’m good
At other things

How simple would it be if I were a tree?
My only worry would be growing
And bathe in sunlight one should see
How simple would it be if I were a tree

Tall and beautiful; aesthetically bright
For who sees trees and sticks their nose in the air?
Who shouts at the top of their lungs
"How awful! God did not want that there!"

How simple would it be if I were a tree

It’s 8 am
And I was writing
Poems in my sleep
Perfect prose
If every
Mundane minute
Was at least
A year
Coffee stirrers
And reaching
Into the glove box
For ribbon

8 am and it’s
The third morning I’ve had today

I dove into him
Broke the surface of your ocean to feel
Ice cold lust
Crashed into your rock hard arms
And slid down your rough terrain
It took me years for my glaciers to reach the lake
To melt into your soft summer waters
To melt beneath your surface.

Why has love become so obsolete?
She asked as the forest floor pierced her feet
Broken homes and collar bones
Never known

A lush land burned by empty beings
To build fire escapes
And something attached called homes
Boxes and rows of superficial success
And fraudulent faces

Your chances are 50/50
maybe less
so why should I be a part of this mess?

Poems
Like the flowers you keep
Pressed to pages
Mythology of the
Soul
Or your shoulders
In motion
The summer time
And salt on
Your lips
I found out
Barefooted
On asphalt so
Hot

Puckered lines
Filtered out time
And a somber soul to face
Throw me in a tin can
Drown me in preservatives and peace
Comfort in inertia
Comfort in complacency
Comfort in a numbing confidence
that some how it'll work out
Wait
For change that's running
running
away

I miss when we were trees
All we knew was growing to the sun
And God was in my shoe box
When he gave me a shower
In purple pagan rocks
Coiled seasons were never
Created by a big bang
Rapid sings like vapid
With TV waves in brains
Colors smell like black and white
Greyscale is just your head
(Melted membrane to the third)
Why did our lips still taste like living pine
That's what I was waiting for
Our completely open sign.

An emptiness
Like sitting down
In the shower
Not recognizing
If hours
Or moments have passed
Letting plants
Starve
Chain smoking on the porch
Like no ones ever gonna need me again
I’m so tired today

I've never told anyone
About the boy
That lived on the edge
Of my street
Growing up
He was about 4 years older
And
Whenever we'd play
Manhunt in the neighborhood
He'd find me
First and
Shove his tongue down
My throat
And touch me
I was four
He was eight

And I saw him on Facebook
Today with
His three year
Old daughter
In his arms
And now my
Throat hurts so much

my stomach
hurts when
I think about
how much of myself
I've given to
"you"
indefinite or unspecified
"you"

Seven
Six split
I keep telling myself
That I'll quit
Eight
Nine
And ten
Somehow I'm back
In bed with you again
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Tell me how to
Surface
Tell me how to be clean
Eleven twelve
And thirteen
I loved you at just a baby soft nineteen

umbrellas in bloom
a city rushes like
water down to the bay
my hands sit still
on the coffee table
cupping my drink
watching the canopy
of covered swarms
make their way to
work
it reminds me of
the schools of fish
i used to watch
race around at the aquarium
because
occasionally
there will be one
that seems a little
                                      lost
                      or                             out of place
in the way
they move

The toasty warm water
Synthetic nature, fluid in my veins
It almost felt like christmas
With jalapeños on top
It almost felt like the night
Your dying heart stopped
Wheezing beats poured in
And you washed your hands
Never ever to touch that needle again
But if only you had taken the chills
And the tired pain
You wouldn't be on this path
Of winter rain

Depression sinks like a ******* stain

I'm a waste
(More or less just breathing space)
Florescent bulb
Midnight pulp
Synchronized sinking
And one brain gulp

Our time is short, sweet,
And something bitter in between
Scratched glasses
And a baby soft sixteen

Giving blood
to make
sense
of letting you
go

Then again
Sometimes you’ll find yourself
Lost like keys in the sofa
It’s so easy to forget
That you’ve been
There before

On those nights
That I dare
Sleep alone
I toss
Until my
Feet tangle
In my hair
My back bone
My wind earth
Air
Just missing
The fire
That once
Lay there

Some
days all I want
is to be
the sun
that kisses
the freckles onto
your shoulders

My heart
Doesn't belong in
My stomach
Carving out
A hollow place
An attempt
To hold myself
Together

I'm always
teetering on
the edge of escapism
and the firm grounding
of an embrace

It's far easier
to believe
that you never really loved me at all
than to drown in the fact
that I just couldn't
keep you
or maybe I just
didn't deserve you quite
like I had imagined

For a moment
My skin fell off of my bones
And the
Warm water clutched by
Your fingertips flickering
Across my form
They send people
To rivers to wash
Away their sins
You sent me to the river
And accidentally
let a little piece
of me in
Locked away

But bare to my bones
For just a moment
It seemed that you're
All I would ever know.

shivers
like the three day old knot
thats grown into my back
just above
my four month old
spinal tap

and i hope
i pray
that you might
stay for
one more night
of my chaotic
and calm
coaster ride

I know
That
I'm not
Actually alone
And that
Dying won't
Really solve
Anything
So I'm just
Stuck
******* thinking
About it

we were emaciated; ruined  
much like the twisted silence at the foot of your bed
a hollow battle field where our hearts would lay
and in nooks of tangled legs and distraught blankets
our secrets would hide

then at night fall they would dissapate
into the cage we called a home,
to poison the atmosphere already swollen
with ambigious thoughts and supressed dreams
  
we wait for rain
and we wait for the sun
but never reach into the atmosphere

so like our secrets we lay dormant
in our monotonous routines
and our open eyed sleep

I was your Saturn sun
I was your darkness won
I was a murdered dove
I was your hated love
I was strong but weak
and I never needed that peak
I tore into your attic
I crushed your velvet pops
I was your addiction
Then your time stopped
I held onto your cracked breath
I held onto your pain
I held onto your sacred touch
I dove into your frozen rain
Every kiss was magic
All the lust was the same
I miss your ****** face
I miss your lullabies

So until I see your swollen heart
I'll love your grave stone
Like I did from the start

I know a man
who sleeps
with a chiquita
box
as a pillow
on auburn avenue
every day I pass him
at 11:00 alseep
in a nook
of the city
and sometimes
for a second
I think about
bringing him
food
or water
but
I tell myself
tomorrow

now I pass that building
his pillow
and blanket gone
and a hipster
juice store sign
is being pasted
on the window

I light
a cigarette
and smoke
one
I do not stop
and wait
for tomorrow

Some days it's difficult to
Escape
The clutches
Of my bed

if love is a debt
i don't ever want to owe again

my arms feel heavy
like lead in my vein
from lust
loveless lasting
on my tongue
from far away
thoughts
I've tried to bury
beneath my bed
winding up
whispering around
my music box
head

sometimes
i dip my
hair in herbal
soaks
in hopes
of turning
into
crumbly
man made
nature
and putrid
performances
of morals

Skin to knife
Skin to knife
Skin to knife
Knife
To
Skin

I am quite familiar with loss
but losing your love
is not something I wish
to ever know.

Your hands
    cleaner
than my
sunday
shirt
and
I've collected
quite a bit
of dirt

Wishing
You were the
Tingle at the
Nape of my
Neck