chewed up pen caps
cuticles  too
white knuckles
and a belted waist so
you will think i am a better woman.
this perfume to resume.
and i hope for you to give me
one last kiss upon my forehead...
before i slap you across the face.

hermit ***** crawl from their exoskeleton and find new homes as they grow
they shed and leave everything behind to the currents of time to wash past away
they search for newness with no direction
this was you when you left me
you grew out your hair and bought more rings
you when to a pharmacy of internet culture and hijacked the life which did not belong to you
something to comfort your lack of love
something to cling to so you could say that youre wild and free
instead of broken and crippled from the death of this all
im a shell not empty because of you but now a house with no deed
another animal adjusting to the mania of love
there is no deposit
there is no tax
there is only myself, there is only my chaos
and when someone else tells me im their bomb shelter
i hope they take time to understand
that dynomite is in the freezer
and i would like him to know better than my past self
to stay
and
dont open that door

was filled with love
but mostly filled with heartache
because it is more interesting
and they all loved you
and i slowly hated
as the plot went on
and the more it sold
the better i felt

because there was a twist where i never got you back
and it was more climactic when i didn't want you back
and i survived and moved on
and made something i once loved into literature

and i am not an author for this
but an architect

i am flat footed
and sometimes i starve myself
and sometimes on purpose
but sometimes not
and i am not sure that the lead on my palms will ever fade
but i am positive that the acrylic will never wash from my jeans
and i am a light smoker
and a cautionless drinker
and i REALLY want people to
STOP
STEALING
MY
FINE-POINT
SHARPIES.

home is a memory away,
you are near.
closer than you thought,
maybe even closer than you want.

I want those things
I have never wanted
I want you, forever.
I want to wake up in the mornings to look over
at your scarred face.
I want you to kiss my forehead
Like you always do.
And call me lil' lady.
And smother my body in the morning like you used to.
And you feel like home.
You are the feeling between my toes,
You exist in the fibers of the frieze.
Chattering inside the dish washer,
Humming my name in the shower.
And you are only a memory away.
And I am trying.
I am trying to hold it all together,
but the foundation is cracked.
I am so alone.
And I will give and give and give
to deserve you.
And I will wait.
I will.
Until we find a place.
After a while I had hoped for packing lunches and bingo cards.
Bad timing for now I guess.
But patience is a virtue,
I just hope it will see the sight of this unholy author.

in the night that shadows my gloom
encouraged by whiskey, cigarettes
and the seeking of an empty room.

****** me,
give me no promise of tomorrow.
hurt me, use me, tell me something untrue.
hit me, choke me, pull back my hair
unwind my body
untie my mind from there.
cry for me, bite my lip
grind me from the side
trace my hip
tell me im **** then tell me im wrong
this fragile notions ive foreseen for so long

times will change and time will pass
now, its time for me to get over what couldnt last
i know you look at me and see her aching stare
but this is the night you needed me
and i finally didnt care.

the claws of your pride
they dig and puncture my chest
under my left breast
i could scream for a savior
but i do not wish for him

whatever you find there is your treasure
whatever you find there is for keeps

reteaching myself artithmatic
variables and integers and invisible numbers
no longer the wallet or the will to return to university
instead resilient effort
of comprehending without hand
and now I can feel the ethic in the space resting between the cap of my pen
and
my curling lip.
feeding on knowledge
sustiaining dissatisfied soul.
maybe,
im just ******' tired of being an artist.

Misinterpretation,
Mislead,
Missing all of you.

The knife blue your eyes,
sawing hacking engraving
your initials in my chest like bark.
Embark.

Rough hands.

I remember the canyons of your lips,
I plummet down with every word you mouth,
~falling falling arms open face first~
The kisses and kisses and kisses and more kisses.
Smother me.

Booming laughter.

The marks and scars of your face,
from other boys and girls and parents and growing older.
I remember their order and presence.
The beauty marks and freckles
Which shape constellations my zodiac has applause.
Resume.

Lazy eye.

All of this hope,
And every passing water gets my change
And every first day gets two rabbits
And every other boy gets my denial
And every suspicion is overlooked.
And I have learned sometimes that is what love becomes.
Me in a waiting room.
Staring at the suckerfish hide in plastic castles.
Reading Women's Health.
I have learned to trust time.
And to never, ever accept what I cannot change.
DEVOUR WHOLLY
And I will disturb these waters until
I am banished or beloved.


Tunnel vision on a Wednesday night.

a handfull of pills
a needle to the arm
that cuts
like the sound of your voice.
oh give me the drugs
and save me from the harm
that days bring
give me the dream
give me the euphoria
so i can run
after something that seems tangible
give me the darkness
the ruin
and the excuse
for you to hear that i am no longer the person that used to be.




give me a reason
to get
the ****
out of
my bed
at dawn.

The feeling reminded me of death.
Not necessarily in amount of tragedy,
But that feeling when you are trying to cry,
you know you should.
Maybe it is the shock of it all,
or the lack in
closure.
Crying is respectful.
That,
and I also knew
you
would no longer be
here.
Maybe I will find
something better
tomorrow mourning.

I have a pocket of sighs,
Near my heart which too
Carries these sins.
All plastered in the **** of my lie.

And this is the **** closest I have come to feeling.
The peeling,
The empty organs.

I'll steal the humdrum stampede away
Lush.
A boy's blush,
and a touch.
For a tick,
This pulse will tock.

I am a frugal woman.
Sometimes money,
A vote maybe,
but mostly in trust.
Heartfelt anything will consume my mornings
And by night whiskey departs my remorse.

And it smells like your Oldspice.
And  tumbler glasses feels like the stiff hills of your back
And I remember everything.
Like I said,
This is the closest I have been to feeling feelings.

instead i sleep with people i dont know
and i sip on a beverage with a bite
and it has all come back
to bite me in my ***

my friend showed me a mates of state album
(and im not partial to their music)
but a picture ofa  tombstone and arrows clouded my distaste
it read:
'beware and be grateful'

now, despair of my brave ***** is at rest
feeling is nothing more than a touch
investments of emotion are not worthy of a second
and in a full minute i dont think of any of you at all

i remember walking central park alone and desperate
nothing
i remember crying in my car lost on sunset
nothing again
i remember trying to keep my sanity when i walked into the room to see you and her
nothing now
the words you spoke "i get misplaced during winter, but i know what i want"
and no none of you did much to comfort me
nothing forever
or make me happy
zero zip zilch

so thats where i am now
with a stranger next to me
remembering those nothings
and a glass full of ice and a smiling and free bird
and the wild turkey repeats the line
'beware and be grateful'
i listen, finally.

Not because you choose to, but because you cannot.
Feelings such as love do not wash in and away from shorelines.
It breaches levies.
If you don't love me now, you never will.
Because you cannot.
I am the tide.
And that is all,
Lust swelled me in.
Emotion pulled me under.
And consistency dragged me back.
I cannot compel you to think of me.
I cannot focus your wandering eye.
I can only accept what is true.

Reality of an unrequited heart.
Oceans and the riptide tearing me apart
O' sailer wondered to here
In a nights course of dreaming I lay here in fear.
No returns and no tomorrow
I gave you my heart
And now you return it back with a fee
Tainted ***** of  salty ocean ****,  
algae .
As if I have the stability anymore to recollect:
I don't.

I held too much stock in those sweet nothings.

I held nothings in truth, reality,

distance.
Fool's gold
Lush's drink
And
nothing to show for it all in this time.


I thought "Chance!"
No.
No.
No.
Naive strikes again,
A chariot of ash rolls through in the sight of pupil blue.
And
I,
palms crossed
pulse calmed
forever a momento of your destruction.

Despise the way absence become routine,
Ritualized thoughts.
The aroma of a meal,
One I have had before,
One I had before with you.
Stopped drinking.
Your songs are much softer when sung in sobriety.
I can look at other men.
I can flirt again.
I can be silly.
Best with you.
Here has been ten rounds of four weeks and all of those nights
Not one where you have not become phosphene,
A hallucination.
The kisses on the foreheads were the worst.
Dreamt of most.
Means something.
And!
I'm trying to find the key,
And I'm trying to unwind these binds
And I'm trying to release your chain
And I'm trying to fight the same fight.
And you aren't here to help me,
But you are also so present.

And I know you do not want me anymore,
Foolish poor tainted heart o' mine still cheers on time.
A ****** shame.

I thought of myself as a geyser, a glacier for love
bundled up tight,
And ready to explode with the affection I dwell upon.
But see here,
Because my love lusted over was in winter's bitter flake
And now I am left with a fifth and a pack and some sort of swelling ocean in my eye.
I know I was worthy
Perhaps even still 
Of the mind's manufacturing of a twin soul.
I practice growth
And I take this loss
And I find new arms to warm
the barren chill in the cave which they name my heart
In each chamber your voice echoes
And hell, i know I haven't been the first to ask
"please, just some quiet, just some rest"

I go to sleep with the quake tonight,
wake me after the shock.

youre snoring awfully loud
so
thanks for interrupting those nightly resurrections.


really.
if whiskey can't cure me
im not sure what will.

I went somewhere familiar tonight
Where my fear began
Where the bad kids where black masks
Where lays shells and stained cement
I returned
just to say "thank you."

i am not a bone chandelier

i finally told myself that this body doesnt need to be punished by my mind
and how much i hurt you
and how much i gave up to you

i am not a sack of sweetness,
stuff-****** with carbon
i am not the hose in the back window
i am not every horrible way i wanted to forget
what it really meant to be loved by you

when you found out i was a writer (or whatever i call this)
you told me i have to know the rules to break them

you did not know anything about me

and i knew then,
that if our love was anything like a true poem
it was going to end up like the hole i put through the wall two months ago.
i dont need to know the rules of love to break them.

I have been reading more.
I have been tipping my waitresses more.
Stopping on intersections to pet the passing canine.
Attempting to watch what I eat.
Having strong work ethic.
Bumming a smoke.
Paying the electric on time.
Talk less about me,
Let's hear more about your day.
You, you, you.
That should sidetrack the deafening of my thoughts.
Throwing pennies into fountains,
Tossing a dollar or two to the street performer.
Seeking fulfillment.
Not there,
Not yet,
Not happy,
Not a ton.
With this pattern I await a beacon.
With this pattern I await direction.

Cradle me in indecision.
But never rinse me clean.
Is it so absurd that one can love you?
Even grime has it's glory:
hunger.
A man beautiful,
thirsty for quest.
I shed no more sugar stains.
No more crocodiles.
The rotation of a day,
and more
days.
Moonrise eventually.
But I am sad to say
The pursuit in dusk
will forever hold you this way.
May you never wake up alone,
May you never wake up empty.
Although I already
Know you do.

I too am wandering this darkscape.
Many men have offered me love,
Or a decent roll-around.
But trust absent
And emotion lacking.
I always felt hallow beneath my feet.
I could feel the trap door.
And I am not sure
If you are the exception
or
The acceptance
for the way of maddened lovers.

A midnight love will never see the sun.
But please,
Never talk me out of this.

My mother always told me to not play in the street.
But when I was three, I was invincible.
I could fly.
So I shut my lids and soared-
Until an old man and his Chevy's bumper stopped me.
And ever since then I look both ways.

My grandmother always told me to not touch the stove,
but I still attempted to grasp the macaroni pan
But all I got was a patch on my hand of searing scarlet.
And after that I never learned to cook.

I wonder why no one had cautioned me of love.
Because I have this scar under my arm from pavement
And I have this gray patch on my palm
But I have nothing to show from love.
Where is the lesson?

Maybe I am still a foolish little girl.

I want to love. But who doesn't? I want the specialty, the confidential of love. I want to be with you at 4:30 pm on a Thursday, staring at your ceiling listening to the heater. I want to be unexcited, because I think love can sometimes be that challenging. I want to stare into your soul again, as I have many times before. And you utter my name softly, then drift into sleep with that satisfaction.
I want unsullied thoughts. While no, not a clean slate, but purity.
Snow.
A hug to radiate shivers down my spine and force cheeks to blush and teeth to flutter.
Mislead to Antarctica by our clutter.
I want your sanctuary, the cove of your heart, tie a tent, and weave our decisions into hammocks which cradle  promise and hope.
And I have sipped, in consistency, to discover you exist at the bottom of bottles. And you have tarnished the coffee table.
I want long drives on Sunday. To escape the complexities which plow our emotions. I want to drag you to the mall, and you roll your eyes and check the time on your cellphone every seven minutes. I want to crawl into bed at two in the morning when I get home from work, to hear your snores and fit into the mold that your body made so innate. I want *** in an alleyway with you because the mattress is worn and wine is the taste of passion. More so with you, because I cannot imagine anyone else. I want to listen to music while in love again, because it sounds completely different. I want that booming laughter back which trails you are an idiot. But so am I. I want you back because I am an idiot. I am too human.
Once wrapped in arms, now tangled in this heart.

my heart spread wings
which neither you or i did expect
and with a chirp and the patter
she beat these new ligaments
and i felt her on my tongue
escape from my jaw
and your name too
had abandoned my lips

how nice it is to have a weightless chest

it is upsetting to me
that
sadness
is the closest to
passion
i have felt in almost
a year.


****.

i will carry your body from the flicker
i will lose my eye
four houndred and fifty seven times
before i jab back.
all this makes a sister look weak,
but this is what i know of patience and loyalty.
and we will stare into the souls we drain everyday
and drown in the woes of alcoholism
and suffocate in the smoke
and go bankrupt from the weekend rut.
and i am happy
that i know
i could be doing this alone
but alas
i have a twinsoul
a twinflame.
for vinagar girls,
full of *** and vice
and all horrible things,
somehow we manage to hold more value
in each other
in people and parents
and newcomers
than any one any where
can relate.
my partner in crime,
my fellow feline,
i will follow you into the flame
and drag you back out.

selfish is as selfish does
i make my attempts to refuse cowardice
and mine for the gold in your heart
and ive delivered acceptence and determination on
the wings of carrier pigeons
you broke my ring
and you stick out your tongue
bitter little *****
i asked you to be kind
kind of kind
due to fragility
i know im damaged goods
and all damaged goods are a burden
and i am a beast
and i am a god
and i am unlubbable
and tonight im knocking on wood
because you wont even say hello anymore.

dont fret, disinterest is not individual folly
but shared in the space where we used to lay.

to those who claim to be bored
with everyone
they
surround
themselves with,
know you are
a:
flake,
a speck,
unappreciative ****,
a selfish-
poor friend,
greedy and
self absorbed,
and you,
yourself
are too
very very
boring.
more so.
because
a.
you lack
imagination

b.
you are predictable
on presumption


such claim is a self fulfilled destiny.
we focus on hypocrisy
and fail to see the hilarity.
laugh.

Youre lingering in me
And I feel so much
so much.
Mostly hatred.
Mostly lamentation.

I hear your cries,
echoing in the chambers of my heart.
And I am sorry
Sorry for being this maker
For being this destructive person.
I am sorry for being mean
And bitter.
I am amberized for another
And I wait
And again,
I am sorry.

WHAT WORDS CAN EVEN GIVE ME MERCY?
WHAT PERSON WHO WILL EVER GROW WITH ME?
WHO WOULD ******* WANT TO?
(besides you?)

In reflections I pout.
As a type of religious experience
Observe this wake caress my sadness.
I find it kind of funny how
a transition of a ripple can relieve this blue.
Water has been kind to me.

And when you stare into the sink
Half filled with water
And diluted with
shaving cream
and the
exhausted manhood cut from your face.
I will not be seen.

I know you have drained it all
Into the water which I stare.
I know I mesmerize in your tide
Day in, day out.
Acceptance: a religion to me.