The first day was
promised to be ours

but responsibility tore us apart.

your tongue tasted of
pabst blue ribbon
and regret

and I drank in
the time we never had

through a long glass neck
that I stole from my father

Our last summer
unbeknownst to us at the time
was riddled with fear of loss
and confidence in abandon

I never wished for you to leave
(I always knew I would)

But the sweet taste
of your tears

is far too much
like corona

and I can't handle
that kind of remembrance

so I lift the covers
off of our sweaty bodies

and drive "home"
with no good byes

meaningless tattoos
and fingers stained blue
with the hair dye I used
last night to spite myself
are this moment's triumphs.

a half full bathtub
with most of my body
above water
is all that is keeping me
from drowning.

symbols of my unfinished life
start closing in on me
until i convince myself
of artificial claustrophobia

"I never did anything to you"
is the cheap excuse tingling
on my slippery, fat tongue

But you never did anything to me either
and my teeth still
grind against each other
when I'm reminded
of your existence

We could have loved each other
if we met today
instead of six years ago
but I'm glad we didn't
because I don't want  to love you

my face is pink
with alcohol abuse
and a hot shower

i clumsily sit cross legged
on my counter
wrapped in a ***** towel

the familiar taste
of fermented wheat
tingles on my tongue

and i see no beauty in the world

the whole planet,
my whole existence,
has been a twisted illusion

my eyes take in random
collections of atoms and trick me
into believing in the material

but everything
is just a reaction
inside my mind

the love you profess
the taste of this beer
and the scent of my mother

they're all just
cruel jokes
i played on myself

It felt to wrong to listen to those songs with you last night.
We’ve both changed so much.
But I feel that I’ve shrunk
rather than grown.

When we first met I loved people
and hated myself.
Now those feelings have inverted
and I live in a constant state of bitter narcissism.

I miss the poems I used to write you
The ones that rhymed and were ignorant to pain
Written in neat handwriting
a parallel to how I saw the world.

And I still love you
I just don’t understand
how the same love can still exist
between two different people.

And it breaks my heart
that the boy who
made me avocado and peanut butter sandwiches
and took me on a picnic in his backyard
doesn’t exist anymore.

Just like I’m sure that
it breaks your heart
when you remember the girl
who would ride bikes to the park with you
after school on Tuesday afternoons.

I'm not sure if I'd rather
live in that world of innocent love,
or move our hearts forward
into an unknown territory
filled with the possibility of separation.

As I lay in my bed,
nothing on but my faded blue bathrobe,
my mind drifts to you
as it always does.
Your lips on my skin
our bodies so intertwined
that it is almost impossible to leave
an unbearably sweaty bed.
I'll never cease the dreaming
of your old T-shirts
peppered with holes.
And the khaki pants you wore
when we first met.
I'll never let this love fade
like the colors in my laundry
I'll hold these thoughts
deep inside
and where everyone can see.
I never want to have to forget
or to have to remember.
This love will always be
present.

I want to try
everything
but I am afraid
that I
am not worth my own time

i can't escape these frozen images
feeding instantaneously into my sight
of the people who i once would call on
now so happy together without me

i'll never understand how easy it is to love someone
who doesn't give a **** about you
but my ******* heart is so attached to these fiberglass mannequins
my veins pumping blood into them with nothing in return

maybe this is the universe telling me
that once and for all i need to leave this town
or maybe this is just my friends telling me
that once and for all i need to leave them the hell alone