Make sure
I'm the first person
You drunk text this weekend
She said
He said
You always will be
So  the weekend came
Drinks drank
Thoughts thought
Feelings felt
I'm very drunk,
And drunk texting you,
To let you know,
I miss you
And she said
Dawww
Miss you too
With three w's
Three,
Which of course means
She likes me back

The lightning
A sharpness of illumination
The charged ions, her hands.
I want to join her
Her vehemence, her power, her random abandon
Her ardency, her benevolence
She strikes the earth with a tremendous blast
And cracks the crags of cenozo
The snapping of her leashed dogs
Excite the nightro

gen

I shall climb the mountains to the west
I have to yell loudly into the atmos in hopes of her hear
I will thunderously dance under her wet and hope its tears
If answered, I shall join my love in the aether, and become one with her.

Thank you sir, for everything you have taught me in your honors algebra two class.
I do understand that it is important to learn these things
and memorize where each variable goes
and what to square
and what the equation of an ellipse is
and I am not being sarcastic
But I was hoping maybe you could also teach me the equation to mending things that have been broken?

I finally said good-bye
I told him last night
And i know that he was upset.
I told him to call me sometime,
But somehow I know he won't;
It’s just the way he is.

This morning I told my friend,
She said she was proud!
How could she be so happy?
That I said good-bye to him,
When I feel like dying on the inside?

I almost gave up last night
As I explained what was wrong
I almost gave in to his begging and pleading
But I just can't do it anymore
I had to say good-bye.

She asked if I was okay.
How can I be okay if I told him good-bye?
How can I be okay if I gave him an ultimatum that I knew he wouldn’t stick to?
I’m not okay
But I have to pretend that I am
Just to get by these last few weeks in this country.

2 days of school,
2 weeks of exams,
3 weeks before leaving this country forever
Not to come back
Leaving him forever unsure when I’ll see him again.
Why am I losing these last few weeks with him?
Why did I say good-bye now?

I didn't truly want to say farewell
But she made me.
She hates him
Even though she's never met him.

I finally said good-bye to him
And said she was proud of me
And asked if I was okay.
But how can she be proud?
How can I be okay?
When he's still on my mind?!?

There is a consumer product demon
in the trash underneath my sink.

The other day, I tossed in a wrapper
from a Quest 20-protein-gram nutrition bar
and a hand reached up to grab it.

Thinking I was daydreaming
I pulled out the white plastic Rubbermaid trash basket;
no hand, but the ¼ cup of Kraft Fast Mac
tossed in yesterday was moving, undulating.

It made a distinct voice-y sound
like “You’ll like Mac-a-lot, so eat me!”
Thinking this was just my overactive poetic imagination
I turned to the sink.

My JetZScrubber had wrapped around a spoon
dancing in circles around the In-Sink-Erator drain
while the Ajax Easy-Hands Dishwashing Liquid spewed bubbles
in unison.

Now convinced I took too much acid in college
I ran upstairs where my dog Mr. Brown sleeps
on his 44” x 36” leopard-print GoodDogBed.
“Howdy, partner,” Brown chimed.
“Sure is a fine day to go for a walk
using that Halti multi-loop leader and Sprenger prong collar.
Yes, I love ‘em.”

I took Mr. Brown to the dog park.
the one with the Safe-Steel chain link fence
and the pine trees without labels.
He pooped in the sawdust and vocalized
in his hound voice.
I could have sworn he said,
“Glad I didn’t do that on the L.L.Bean Woven Nylon Area Rug,”
but I wasn’t sure.

Nothing moved
except the wind in the trees.
and I wondered what to call it.

Can we just play *****, you and i?
I mean give me looks across the table, that you are disgusted with me, for taking my ******* off and dropping them in your crotch. I mean like you talk to another girl and glance at me, as if to say '******* *****', knowing you will **** me; Later.
Let's play *****, come on, i will welcome you in to my house, in stockings and leather, and push you against the wall; grab your hand and bend it back whilst i bite your neck. Push my knee between yours, and hold your chest in my hand whilst i make you watch me unbuckle you. Let me drag you on the floor, whilst you try to get up and say 'not here'.
Why can't we play *****?
I don't want no ******* bedroom. I want the doorway, i want the hall, i want the kitchen counter, i want the living room floor and the shower. I want the couch, where i will straddle you and make you watch me as i undress myself for you, slowly, pulling, my, stocking down, so my knee is between your legs and i lean over you, so my ****** points out to your mouth, and i can hear you breathing, and every time you move towards me, i pull away.
Why can't we just play *****?
Why can't you get me mad, and we argue so bad that i want to smash my fist in to your skull til you bleed all over my kitchen floor, brains on the washer...then pick me up, throw me on the bed, slap my face about, slap open my legs and grab my throat and the other hand on my chest as you push deep into me? Hear me gasp, watch my pupils widen, groan at you, watch as you come close to my ear, and say, 'this is what i *******, wanted'.
Why can't we?
Why can't we be deviants?
Why can't we go play in the forest?
Why can't we do like animals do?
Why can't we make two barebacked beasts in the moonlight?
Why can't we play *****?
I touch your leg as you drive, playing the piano up and down your thigh, biting my lip, running my fingers up and down your thigh, nails pushing deeper, up and down, up and down, until you pull the car over, slam the brakes on, pull off your seatbelt and grab me, push the seat back, as  i smile a secret smile as you breathe deeply in my ear as you pull off my wet knickers, and begin to take me on a journey through the stars.
Why can't we play *****?
Shut your eyes. Shut your mouth. Shut everything, the, ****, up. Listen to the beat of my heart, as it quickens and i place your hand over my chest, and i look in your eyes. Stop you talking about me, about what i am like, and who i am, and what it should be, and this and ******* that.
I don't want no tv before bed, i don't want no book, i don't want no midnight stargazing.
**** that ****. ****, me.
I want to play *****, with you.

"Look at the way your feet drag the ground. What an idiot."
The voice is more like a knife but knives are just fragile pieces of metal.

Luckily I am in the mood to break stuff.

If I opened the door to my room and found an empty hole, I'd have to smile because I see something new.
Sadness is walking the same streets and never visiting the bookstore on the corner.
That explains why my eyes are sunken and my cynicism is more than just a bad habit.
The escape hatch is already turning though and light is pouring onto the pavement.

The odd thing is...
that is where I ran into her.
Standing in the middle of the street, holding a paintbrush and humming something soft between those lips.
Sometimes the most beautiful things can't see what they are because demons and unkind words have wrapped them in a fun house mirror.

Hmm...
Luckily I am in the mood to break stuff.
If the sun spoke in poems and sang us all to sleep, it still could not compare to the radiance emitting around your soul.

Come on dear, let's smash some glass and paint something new in this world.
The future is an empty canvas.