i don't watch home movies
hate them
reason being because
when i was young
i was looking for a movie
my mother
had recorded for me
and accidentally
put one in the vcr
that i'm not sure
i was supposed to see
i know the obvious response
"uh oh, ****"
sorry to disappoint
they were only marked with dates
  1991
on live television
montel williams asks my father
"how can you just throw
your child away like a piece of trash?"
   1994
i spend so much time
in the emergency room
that my parents stop
penciling in growth marks
on the frame
of my bedroom door
i always thought
it was because they believed
i would never grow out
of this sickness
sometimes i believe
the reason that they
never bought me a dream catcher
was because they never thought
i'd live long enough
to see them come true
   1996
i am eliminated
from a spelling bee
because i didn't know
the 'dad' is silent in 'family'
   2013
before i got into poetry
i used to do standup
none of my jokes were funny
one of the other comics
tells me my skits are dry
sometimes sad
he says "why don't you joke
about something like your family?"
so i say
"i never wore any sunblock
because i didn't want anything
to keep me from my father"
i say "what do you call christmas
without lights or heat?"
before he has a chance
to answer
i say "1997. better yet
why don't you
make like a dad and
leave"
   2014
every time we drive
past the hospital
my mother reminds me
how much it cost to save my life
like she'd rather
have her money back
she doesn't have to say
that sometimes she wishes
it was me who had died
instead of my brother
i can hear it in the way
she says "love you"
sometimes i imagine
that if i were to die
that she
would pick out a casket for a child
because she never loved
the person i became
yesterday i told my father
how close i'd been
to suicide lately
and he said
"that's my boy,
livin on the edge.."
and i can't remember
if i laughed
or cried

You're a one night stand
But we spent too many nights
I lost count of it.

You're that unexpected kiss
On a drunken wasted night
Of vomits and *****.

You're that awkward hi
Exchanged by strangers who
Thought they both knew each other
But were clearly mistaken for another.

You're the bruise that turns blue
When I accidentally bump my leg
On the corner of the bed.

You're the scar that I never
Knew I had.

You're the bittersweet taste in
My mouth every morning.

You're the last thought lingering
In my head before slumber takes me
And you're the vagueness that
Haunts me in my dreams.

You're the scalding hot shower
In a cold freezing morning.

You're the boiling tea that numbs
My tongue for the rest of the day.

You're the obsession
I will never learn to let go of.

You're that person I will
Never get to call mine.

You're the one that got away.

Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

When I was a kid, there were no monsters under my bed
Instead I had a mother who just wanted me dead
She once held a pillow right over my head
And was then taken away and put onto heavy meds

I wasn't scared of boogie men, and had no fear of ghosts
My mother was the beast in my youth that I feared the most
When she got on her meds, she was practically comatose
She was a mindless zombie, and grew worse with every dose

It broke my heart to see this, my mom was so far gone
But I just didn't get it, I couldn't fathom what was wrong
My mother was so lifeless, from the pills they kept her on
Her face was grey and blank, and my poor face grew long

I knew she was unstable, but my heart broke for her
It wasn't all her fault that she was such a monster
I wished I could fix her, and that love could occur
But nothing could make her affection for me stir

I envy the kids that had beasts under the bed
The kids whose only nightmares were living in their head
I'm jealous of the children whose mothers never said
"I regret the day I had you, and I wish that you were dead."

When I look at him I wonder if he even knows he's addicted. Addicted to the way she laughs, and how the curves of her mouth turn up into a smile. If he knows he is drunk on the way that she sighs at the rain, or how she talks to the cat late at night. Does he know that she is what makes his reality worth it? And at the same time I wonder if she knows. If she knows that he the reason the blood races through her veins. If she knows that he is the reason that her lungs feel so full. That he is the dizzy lightheadedness, the weightless feeling within. Does she know that he is what creates her earth?