Just one more cigarette.
The smoke helps me breathe.
The nicotine clears my mind,
Gives me some room to believe.
So just one more smoke tonight.
I don’t really need it, but it can’t hurt.
Besides, I’ve been feeling kind of anxious.
My temper’s gotten short, my words, curt.

Just one more drink, I guess.
The ***** keeps me numb.
Don’t want to voice any real opinions.
Let’s keep conversation dumb.
So just one more shot tonight,
Then I’ll try to get some sleep.
It’ll help keep my head heavy,
Along with all those secrets I keep.

Just one more argument.
Yelling keeps me grounded.
I like to see that vein in your head.
Hurtful words keep me well-rounded.
So just one more fight tonight,
Then I’ll sit and cry alone.
Put some ice on the swollen spots.
Just look how much I’ve grown.

Just one more superficial cut.
The blood reminds me I’m alive.
Hiding them is like a game.
They give me motivation and drive.
So just one more scar tonight.
Like anyone actually looks below my head.
Like anyone cares if I’m even alive,
But just one more smoke before I’m dead.

A drink in one hand, and your hand in the other.
Smoke curling out the car window like a
secret ribbon.
Songs filled with passion and anger
blaring through the speakers, soaking in my ears.
Your words spill over the music, riding the melody
like a passenger’s seat.
Stories and anecdotes just to pass the time.
Pointless conversation has never meant so much
to me.
Hands squeezing each other just a little too tight,
Not daring to let go.
Pass the blunt, and watch me inhale. I feel your
Eyes like a kiss.
Soft, tender, full of light,
with hunger and urgency underneath.
You make sure to keep my stare as I pass it back.
Eyes flickering to life with each ticking second.
I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath.
Holding my breath for you to break the stare,
To kiss me hard,
To say you want me,
To seize my soul.
And I would give you my all, the best of me,
Though in pieces.
I would let you break my heart, would
revel in the exact moment it shattered,
For no matter how brief or fleeting the time, my heart was
carried and loved by your hands.

I have no power here. No voice. No reason to continue fighting.
I have very little memory, actually, of what it was like to care.
I try to rejoice in my numbness: celebrate the dulled sounds, flat images, and jaded feelings.
The expression I wear is emotionally ambiguous at best,
Though I do not look sad. I plaster on my smile, straighten the edges, and clean up any smudges you might have left behind.
I use drywall to build my body each morning. Carefully construct a pair of arms, legs, *******, eyes.
When everything is finished, my sins are shown as an imperfect body, reflecting my imperfect soul.
I still look in the mirror, look into my dead eyes, and feel remorseful for the girl that could have been standing here in my place.
She may have been beautiful; unfortunately, she had nothing to protect herself with.
Though the process is trying, I know I must do this every day.
I do this every day so I can face you, and your omnipotence, and your destruction.
I do this every day so I can love you.

I stare at my mirror every day.
Every ******* day.
I smile into.
I shout obscenities at it.
I cry on my floor, desperate to avoid it.
Every ******* day, I walk past it, tell myself to take a single, quick glance.
One glance becomes an inquisition upon myself for all my flaws.
One glance ruins my entire day, brings me to tears.
My mirror hates me.

I stare into this woman every day.
Every ******* day.
I smile back at her.
I take her complaints in stride.
I search for her face when she hides, and listen to her cries beneath me.
Every ******* day, she gives me a double-take, as if to find something new.
The screams will always continue,
And the tears will fall, despite my efforts of honesty.
This woman hates me.

Beyond every whisper of doubt,
And far past each pain-soaked shout,
Your shape, your shadow guided my way.

“Sing me a song,” I mumble,
Despite knowing you’re far too humble.
In spite of that, you sing anyway.

Your sarcastic humor and quick-minded wit
Made loving you too ****** hard to quit.
For my every “*******”, you counter: “God bless”.

Your voice shapes words I’ve longed to hear,
All while placing my heart upon its bier.
You’ve forced my hollowed soul into regress.

My minutes with you fly into the past.
You think quick, play hard, and live too fast.
And every night I’m alone, tears fall till I sleep.

Maybe I’m young, and adolescently naïve.
You’re throwing me a bone I’d beg to retrieve.
My faith in us takes form in a leap.

It’s exhausting doing this ridiculous dance,
Knowing full-well you won’t give us a chance.
“Just let me love you” is all I can say or think.

The slightest breeze, a calming zephyr,
Is enough to send through you a violent tremor.
You kiss my mouth and beg me for a drink.

Chest to chest, you hold me still.
Move my body, bend my will.
Still, your efforts go to waste.

The faintest touch, the smallest bite,
Shifts my cheeks from pink to white.
I kiss your neck and beg you for a taste.

A tangle of limbs, sweat, and screams
Make up our web of wet, sinful dreams.
This passion, desire, is too strong to ignore.

Yet, afterward, when our breathing is stable,
A lit cigarette still burning on the table,
I tell you this is different than before.

I said it was ***. You said making love.
I said no regrets. None you could think of.
We agreed that this was just for fun.

Color creeps in your cheeks. You make my head swoon.
It all looks so romantic and simple with the moon.
Tell me: does it look this good in the sun?

The skies reek of a certain vastness,
one that can be tenebrous and gloomy, or lustrous in its omnipotence.
I gaze up at it sometimes, letting thoughts scarcely run through my mind.
I let my eyes consider each color on the horizon, and
become confused and fuzzy as the light fades, stars igniting into focus.
At times, the trees can become one with the sky:
their branches reaching into the Heavens, hoping to pull out a piece of the celestial.
Rustling leaves blot out burnished stars.
You may think trees only grow so tall for the stars, their lovers. The starlight
quenches an Evergreen’s thirst that rain cannot.
Under a thick blanket of moon and dim, every sound gets much-deserved attention.
My ears catch crickets singing of desire, or wind fondling the tops of trees.
Yet, as the sun follows its arduous ascent into the fragment of sky I’m gifted with,
another dawn takes place. A dawn of realization.
The beauty that our world has seized and evolved with will always
go unappreciated.
Strangely, the evanescence of a human life is expected, mourned, and understood.
However, the pulchritude of the world shall always be a mystery to one person or
another.
I will forever live in awe of this planet, and in fear of the surrounding universe.
Power pulsates from the earth, shivering the planet into seasons and disasters.
It has always been, and will forever be.
And yet, the world cares so little of me.

Still running on empty.
A stomach grumbling is my applause.
I’m starting to see some changes,
But not enough to cover the flaws.

No one has noticed the loss,
The sharpening of my frame.
Bones more visible than before,
But not enough to cover the shame.

I feel my thighs touch
With every ******* step I take.
I only feel ugly now
When I remember I’m awake.

In a world desperate to break me,
And being smothered by those who “care”,
I will refuse to be controlled.
Like a tree, I’ll live on air.

Like a flower, I’ll feed on sunshine.
Every “no, thank you” is really “yes, please”
Because the tinier you make your waist,
The weaker you make his knees.

I know that I’m stronger than food.
Eating or crying is now allowed.
Don’t stop until you’re empty.
Don’t stop until you’re proud.