We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

She's angry boys
looks like we're burning fast
"lighter noise"

There goes Larry
he was always toasty
and with that drink,
I think it's a beautiful death

Here we go
into the purse
I wonder, where she'd forget us this time
or if we'll soak up her drunken
thoughts

It's 5 am, have some mercy on your lungs!
Oh, I am the last one
struggling to stand up straight
in that crumpled pack
half awake, half dead,
swinging between sleeplessness
and drunkenness

I welcome my fate
I want to dilute in her breath
I want to kiss her with sunrise
I wish I my nicotine would mend her thoughts
I wish my filter, would cleanse
that stress
I want her to exhale cremated
bits and pieces of me
with the crisp breeze of dawn

Alas, I am burning
along with her awareness
along with her energy
she kisses me
one last time
I burn
I burned
along with
her night
Oh,
I burned