the ants in my veins dont bite me anymore
was it something i did? are they dead?

or is there just less to feed on?

my bones are quartz
my heart a horse
my eyes are dew
I'm nothing but a compilation
or emulation
of things I see in you

"I'm not afraid to die," I said
If I was sure money wouldn't be wasted on a funeral
I'd **** myself anyway

Inconsequential, any of us
Why does it even matter, when all we are is dust?
"You inject meaning, and that's how you live how you do"
I reject that completely, what I've done is just not done.

I want to feel whole but I only
feel like my skin isn't on properly
is there a way to tighten it?
take it off and alter the way it hugs my bones?
it's all a mask and I'm only
trying to figure out how to rip it off.

am i sick of this or am i just sick of myself?

2 a.m. approaches, so of course i'm still drinking
sitting under the stars, getting lost,
simply thinking
and i lose myself in the night, as i'm sinking
goodbyes never come soon enough

notes scribbled out into rhymes
never serving a purpose
other than clearing my mind
taking all the ugly stuff out
and turning it into something else

i've always had a hard time taking advice
i make every wrong choice,
at the very least, twice
and sometimes it's hard to realize
that i'm the one thing that stands in my way

i've been shuffling pennies
inside my pocket
and hearing them jingle
as i take more
and more steps
in the wrong direction

I have a sleeping giant in my heart
Did you know?
It slumbers in its chains

in the clouds is a charity
it moves from town to town
sometimes it sleeps
when it wakes, it rains
and when it rains, it pours

look up and see a window to heaven
stare as long as the sky is clear
realize your days are numbered
make meaning from nothing
fear death

me too.

six or seven years old,
on my Little Mermaid bed,
playing doctor or predator,
with my innocence.

me too.

eight or nine years old,
in children's church groups,
asking me why i didn't shave
or wear a bra.

me too.

eleven years old, it's the
holiday season, you're my
favorite uncle, so why do you
stroke my breast and cradle my
***?

me too.

in high school, everyone's doing
it, it's not a big deal.
you're such a *****, why can't
you just send me a ****?

me too.

in college, you convinced me
i'm mature enough, i'm old enough,
so why did i feel so terrified to say
no? why did i cover my eyes and bite
my tongue?

growing up, i lived on the
highways between FL & KY
either in the cab of my dad's truck
or the backseat of my mom's ford.

streetlights became stars, &
the stars became my universe
i saw my first meteor at 3am
on the road back from TN.

Halloweens were spent in the cab
with Bugle's on my fingertips,
cackling like a witch.

Christmas was an adventure,
stuffed into the backseat between
blankets & winter clothes.

breakfast was a McGriddle,
lunch was a bag of chips & soda
from the gas stations & truck stops,
and dinner was my favorite, always
at ******* Barrel, beside the fire place
surrounding by my family & others.

the highway is my home, &
i wouldn't have it any other way.