My lips touched a few bottles last night
And my lips touched a few men
I broke a few of those bottles last night
And a few of those men broke me

Have you ever woken up one morning
With an overwhelmingly existential anxiety
Surrounding the inevitability
Of loneliness and dissatisfaction
With love as society has made it out to be
And the reality of the meaning of the word?

Nearly every single one of us humans,
If not all,
Dub ourselves "alone"
While simultaneously and obliviously relating
To each and every man or woman
Who has and will ever exhale
Into the earth's atmosphere
Unaware of each other's potential and ability
To connect with one another.

Our breaths conjugate
As they are ejected from our mouths,
As our feelings should,
Yet it is not as simple
It is not as simple as an involuntary respiration
Though it should be
It should be!

Why should I,
Another breather on this planet,
Feel as though my emotions
Are much too obscure and unfathomable
For a breather much like myself to comprehend?
Meanwhile in the other room
A man is breathing in the same air I am
And he is feeling the same way I am
-"alone"

Her bruises were
Red
Blue
Purple
And dark, dark black
Like the colors
Of her heart
And the colors
Of her beaten down love

I saw you
In my dream
Last night
And I saw myself
Too

I saw the way
You kissed me
And I saw the way
I kissed you
Too

I saw the way
You hurt me
And I saw the way
I hurt you too

When I woke up
All I could see was the way
I miss you
But I don't see you
Missing me
Too

The worst part
About your goodbye
Is that you didn't even
Say it
I just figured it out
On my own

She fell in love
With the instantaneous way
******* made her blood rush
With the way it consumed her
With the way it satisfied
Her cravings briefly

And in the same ways
I fell in love with her
And in the same ways
I am addicted to her

She is the deadliest drug 
Of them all

Life

That's a poem, right?

She was a lover of augmented volume
To muffle her thoughts
She was a lover of alcoholic beverages
To drown her thoughts
She was a lover of casual ***
To distract her from her thoughts
But above all
She was a lover of not loving

The most unfortunate love of all

Poems aren't always written
With a paper an pencil
They aren't always typed
In ink and with a signature
Sometimes poems are written
With the lips of a teary-eyed lover
Or the laughter of a young hospital patient
Or even the silence of two comfortable friends

You are my
Comma,
Semi Colon;
Exclamation mark!
Period.
You are my
Punctuated equilibrium

She wanted the waves
Of the bounding main
To lull her
To blanket her
To drowse her
With their lethargic drift
To sway her tired limbs
And pull her deeper
Into the blue, sedating tides

The waves withdraw
From the shore's warm embrace
Recoiling from the sand
Away from its touch
Yet they come crashing back
Rejoiced by the earth
Only to depart from the ground
*Again