The throbbing headache and nausea
I can endure; I've had worse.
Right now I could cry,
such a raw hope consumed me
as I thought about you, desperate.
It was still dark for me then,
when I needed you. Now it's day.
It brings a true smirk to my face
to know you are nothing more
than a night of binge drinking:
a foolish part of my youth,
a consequence of boredom.
I could not hold your liquor,
I vomited all that bile you said to me
in the hedges outside. Don't fret,
this is not a bad memory, in fact
you might never be a memory at all.
I am well. I will drink better and
far more dangerous poisons.
I am today, you are only last night.

Call a                          doctor/ plumber/ priest
My heart is               broken/ leaking/ deceased
My life is                   worthless/ so much better/ over
I'm going to              **** myself/ tell your wife/ Dover
How could you         leave me/ not know/ lie?
I hope you                return my stuff/ come back/ die
I'll never                   forget you/ forgive you/ go away
I need                        closure/ a DNA test/ to tell you I'm gay
Your                           face/ crotch/ top of your back
Is                                so beautiful/ lumpy/ unusually slack
Your                           ex/ mother/ best friend from school
Always made me      great coffee/ feel inadequate/ drool
I will                           miss you/ **** you/ stalk you forever
That way we can      be friends/ get away with it/ be together
I'm sorry                   you did this/ I did this /we failed
I promise to               pay you/ dye it back/ get you bailed
Please don't               leave me/ show the Polaroids/ write or call

(*delete as appropriate, just delete it all.....)

i.

When will I hold a place on your list?

Names that are worth something
- a few I've never even heard before -
sit like pretty little
teacups
all in a row,
all holding their breath,
all minding their own business,
until something comes along and
ignites their genius.

(And I want a piece of it.)

I want to see my name on your list,
I want to feel like everything
I think is worth something
and I am worth something
and I somewhere behind my eyes, I suppose I know I am, but I'd like the confirmation, and if you'd be so kind as to please put my name down on
that list of yours
I'd be ever-so-grateful,

so sir,
when will I hold a place on your list?

ii.

Your decisive opinion of these
fictional scribbles
is like a
black-and-white
silent
stop-motion
film that I was never asked to expose.

And when I did,
(sir, your mind is like gravy)
I knew that you'd thicken with flour and
and overrun my potatoes, and
I've realized that dinner isn't worth ruining for you,
and besides,
this film is nothing more than a
tally of my faults.

One, two, three.

Tick-tock.

Beep.