it doesn’t feel right
to write about you
i am sorry
i love you
a little
(i left my heart under your doormat)
(please don’t ever check)
i am sorry
for all of this
even though you probably didn’t know
(you might have)
i hope you never read any of this
i can’t get you out of my head
and you’ve throughly clogged my arteries
i am so sorry
i’ll be okay
i hope you are
i hope we both are okay
in the end
in the middle
in the now.

pull me through time pull me through rips in the universe that my gods scratched with harsh voices
bask in the pale of ignorance and the lack of structure in my words
bathe in my pretentiousness
and look for the beauty
in the small things
the spot on her nose and the way a pine tree smells
scream scream scream because i'm almost something scream scream scream because i can't feel who i am from the inside of myself scream scream scream because i have lost so much i have suffocated a person inside of me scream scream scream
whisper whisper because i hurt myself today whisper whisper because there's ink in my veins now whisper whisper there's purple underneath my nails and it isn't my own whisper whisper whisper
i'm turning my suffering down so i can fit into the lives of others and be comfortable i cannot bare to take up all the space my body wants me too
what will happen?
i will slip under the quicksand and my body will go back to the earth
which is pretty okay all considering I CAN HEAR A CAR SCREECHING I CAN HEAR A LIFE FLEETING I CAN FEEL THE WORLD SPINNING AROUND ME I COULD JUMP OFF I COULD JUMP OFF IF I COULD FIND AN EDGE

days are spinning by and i think this is what remission feels like
empty apathy
and struggle
i wish i could write
better things
but this is all that i feel.

constantly losing battles is so hard
we play a losing game
monopoly maybe

i long for the person i used to be
or is this the person i’ve always been?

hold flowers between your fingers and think long and hard about something
something that you want real real real bad
maybe it’ll come true
probably not.

so full of pain trying to be subtle i should be bleeding
word choice alone
should have given you a clue
and the consistent undertone of raw pure unadulterated angst and bitter humor
that isn’t funny at all.

Adventures In Good Deeds
i helped pick up the trash and i thought about volunteering at a soup kitchen
if only i could find the on switch
5 Hour Energy .

am i decent enough for one word biographies?
do i hold enough presence for silence?
can i afford to not begin my sentences with sorry?
i am barley a person
just a body with good organs
and no license to complain
“ma’am kindly shut the **** up no one cares.”
that’s what they’ll say to me i’m sure
the thought police
who hate me and i don’t feel anything towards them
because i am nothing but apathy and stupidity
i don’t deserve anything
not joy or bad i don’t deserve either
not because i’m neutral but because i’ve never done anything to feel anything
not that i am undeserving of feeling the bad things
but there has been nothing in my existence to make me feel
spoiled brat woes and hearts sealed with classical silver duct tape
maybe a dash of pepper on a delicious meal that had no need for pepper
i don’t

Patchwork Happiness
on the dot
24/6
sunday’s for church where the atheist goes because he fears and dreams

someone is breaking glasses outside my window
tink tink tink it’s a broken kind of pretty
the kind of pretty that rests in old mirrors and dusts on good books in hipster-esque shelves with smiles worn into their wood
tink tink tink
i think of the times when i thought i would be a person wild and free and that’s what i thought a person was

please let me break one too.

i don’t know where The Pond With The Red Dock is
[turn past the black boots and the corner of infinity
it is only spoken with ashy lips
carved out of pure reality]
[in actuality it’s an ocean]

******
**** ****
****** **** **** ****

i’m sorry dad father baba

i’m so so so so sorry escape my lips time and again and again and again i’m made of apologies that i release with gusto in whimpers on any given day [problematic days] i have so many of them they lie under the surface and bubble and stew and boil and i’m sure they’re expected but not no none none whatsoever their nature is a mystery to Outsiders

if you don’t live in the Great Vast i cannot explain it there’s nothing there damp sweaters and apologies through blubbering mouths sewed to record players
but it’s there and it’s been there forever
and i know it will be there forever.

today is your birthday and i don’t know how old you are
i don’t even know the minute and hour and second i don’t know if this is your real birthday or not
we went to target and i splurged money that was not my own on a nice green shirt that you will wear under white jackets
i know you will do this because i know a part of you
a tiny part the part that is My Father.
you have given everything and not really hid but rather just never revealed who you are
tough tough tough i can spin words about the You that i know that will make my own head twirl and crack on the carpet just because i have seen a sliver of one of your selves
i think you are cruel.
i think that you have the outside lining of a teddy bear and the second self of a *******
and the real you is something i have never seen before.

you also got a family from different puzzle pieces this year
2 are lost 1 is faded and the rest are drug addicts
happy ******* birthday.