I hope you’re doing okay,
but from what I’ve heard,
I don’t think you’ll ever do well.

I heard you were wasted, puking
on *** that was shoplifted
by your friend. Your ***** smelled like
oranges and everyone took you home drunk
to your mom like it was their fault.

Because I remember when you were just cutting yourself
to escape the trauma of your mom beating you
and living with runaways. Your friends raised you,
but they’ve gone to college, and you’re left
with drunk driving drug dealing boyfriends

A couple summers ago you called me when
you lost your virginity in the bed of your
obsession’s truck and you thought you
would be pregnant and drank yourself
to sleep because you thought it was decent
birth control, even though he came on your back

didn’t see you for a couple of years and thought we lost touch
because we were broken down and giving up
and I thought if you could just find a place that didn’t
party or abuse their girlfriends that you could find
a place to be where you wouldn’t feel so numb

Way too long ago I remember stories of your friends
running away to Canada, being kidnapped
or arrested, sent to the emergency room
like when you tried to **** yourself over some boy
or because you hated your mom
or you thought you were too fat

when you’re trying to forget yourself
drinking cheap alcohol and skinny dipping
I hope that you won’t have to last as long
because you aren’t meant to be ******,
intoxicated or depressed, when that’s
all you’ll ever do.

At the end of my time,
I want to say
“I hope the next life,
is as beautiful as the last.”

milky white eyes pupils searching
every time I step over you
long frayed coat
big ears like the puppy
and the black one that greets me
after passing through back roads

I spent summers with you
when you used to sprint
before your hind legs started to drag
before your mouth and tongue
started to sag

you sleep all day, taking your pills
‘crotchety old lady’
who doesn’t die

you’re a memory now,
who eats six pills before dinner
you’re here so we can all look into your eyes
like crystal *****, foggier with each evening

I hope you’re dreaming when you pass
that you don’t take for granted the last few months

old shepherd,
so hard to let go

every night this week
we've had a warm meal and beer
we all sleep under the roof
dogs walking from room to room
curled up on the couch

watching the ceiling,
chatter from my mouth
or the others
worrying about being taken away
going home again, or
back to the cancer cities of southern california

music blares, echoes through empty hallways and rooms
*** often but seldom heard
taking pipes in the backyard
tracking dirt and smoke in the house
paw prints on tile floors

Pants tucked into boots,
rolling cigarettes on the front porch as storm clouds form
******* german shepherd,

I haven’t seen anyone happier yesterday morning
you're my brother,
talking up a revolution

we’ll leave this behind soon,
Chasing hopes for a different life
Or survive the collapse of this one

‘Do you think this plastic canteen is dissolving from the inside?’
‘I wouldn’t worry about it,
you know how lead killed the Romans?’

She gives me everything
A bed to sleep in

I’m only human,
I want to own you, make you property
I can’t help it

Our lives are parallel
But the gap is quickly narrowing

I stick her like a needle,
when I pull out I’m bounded

I have my mothers hands
Bony fingers, veins visible to the forearm
Circular scars around the elbow

I don’t feel right drinking, doing drugs
Mom always in my head,
Grey and black hair
Wrinkling slowly with red gums

I hold my girl close, the same silky bedsheets
spotted comforter I spent Saturday mornings in

I hold her tight when we ****
I don’t want her lap to leave mine

When she leaves in the morning I can’t help it
Laying naked with messy hair, alone
And my black hole thoughts run between my ears

I can hear them between walls
Voices telling me to give my life to something else

staying here where the roots grow
or parting when the leaves blow