i've made a lot of promises,
promises to dark beautiful faces
that float above me as i say my goodbyes
to the fleeting hours of light that never
seem to linger long enough for me to
reach you, despite how much i grow

promises that fly away on the wings
of beetles, wrapped in summer winds
and promises that dig deep into the dirt,
so deep that they become fossils,
undiscovered for centuries, or perhaps, forever

promises that become ugly beasts
that prowl the streets and set this world
on fire in the worst ways, promises that loom
in cracks under porches and as soon
as you're about to reach your doorstep
they grab you and drag you away

today i made a promise, a promise i've
been working up the courage to make for
a long, long while, a promise i didn't want
to make, but i really needed to make it, the
kind of promise that makes you stare at your
toes and shuffle your feet and wring your
hands out like they're full of ***** dish water

today i made a promise that will eat me
alive from the inside out like a million tiny
termites deep within a house, it will start
at my core, layer by layer, until i'm left with
an empty shell, and from the outside in, i'll collapse
upon myself, until i'm nothing but a foundation,
ready to be built back up again, all it takes
is just one, just one small, simple promise

resist every urge
the urge to fight back
the urge to be complacent
the urge to get ****** up
the urge to be sober
the urge to stop sniffing,
stop smoking, stop slipping,
the urge to be better
the urge to be awful
the urge to **** everyone
the urge to **** no one

find balance, find balance, find balance
tell me one more time, tell me once more, go ahead, tell me

i'm not blind and i haven't forgotten
what it means to listen,
to listen
and actually hear,
to hear
and actually process,
to process
and actually understand

you can be as brilliant as you
are beautiful, as beautiful as you
are bold, as bold as you
are benevolent,
it doesn't mean anything if you
haven't got the means to mean
what you say and say what you mean

somewhere along this long road
i missed the lesson of self control
and jesus christ, if it isn't true
what they say about teaching an
old dog new tricks

i will weave you into
the borders of my existence
strong hands, smooth lips, moments
where eyes met pavement when
they should have met my own

i will remember it all,
the way that you stood there
and grew roots instead of
keeping up, don't feel bad,
almost no one can

i thought you were different,
but even brilliance can be
poisoned by doubt

beauty doesn't get you
anything of value,
just things, things that are
fleeting and unimportant,
beauty gets you objects that
grow stale and stupid,
objects that rot and wither,
objects that disappear

i'd rather lose this face forever

i'm the kind of drunk that
floats home gracefully
in boots with soles that
slip and slide through sobriety

i wake up with bruised knuckles
and stiff fists and wonder what
witless wonder stood in my way,
only to find out that a few garbage
cans looked at me wrong

keg stands, house shows, hipster
filled houses with filtered lighting,
the stench of hand rolled cigarettes,
familiar faces blurring into
bearded babes once i've got my
goggles on just right

i sit around and wonder,
when the **** am i going to grow up?

freezing garage grav **** hits
hands shaking, lungs quaking

drunken moms vomiting dead center
in king sized beds on graduation night

fast girls climbing wildly out of little sister's window
once the street lights lay low

dark basements full of *****, boys, and bongs
building our bad habits

homesick, always homesick,
for a place that doesn't exist

i am in love with you
in the worst way

creeping thoughts that
tell me it's over loom in
crevices and corners no
matter how bright
the sun shines

every moment i'd like a
hand in mine, it's yours
i picture and then it's gone,
one ****** digit at a time,
til i'm left with nothing
but a dripping stump

i write you with depth
and decisiveness, but you
want none of it and
for some reason, i am
not deterred

i will hang from spanish
moss and bide my time
amongst cicadas as leaves
fall and seasons crawl on,
i will wait until these bugs
breathe life into this earth
again and again and again

this cannot be it,
because i love you,
even if it's in the worst way,
i just wish that you could
see how big this love is
without my wearisome words

i go into my workshop
and surround myself
with teeny tiny tools
and put on goggles
that magnify my hand
until it looks like it belongs
on a giant, not a tiny girl

i turn on bright lights
that illuminate a blank
surface, that i've imagined
is covered in things that
must be fixed,
and i pick and i ****
and i poke and i position
until there's nothing left,
though i can't be too sad
since i started out with
nothing in the first place

i wish i could figure out
whether i've thought this
up or if it's real, but the fact
remains, that i am being
haunted by something i can't
grasp or understand

i wish your lips would move
when i see you in my sleep