high and dry
sober, sober, sobreity
all i ever wanted was to feel

slowly dying
but finally alive

push me down the stairs and pin me to the wall
we ****** on someone else's floor and i woke up with no regrets and a ****** nose
the only thing that clouded my judgement was my old life.
i live in constant fear that i will find myself

i want *** with love
but last night we ******
and i felt nothing—except for
the hardwood floors

can't live in the past
can't live in the future
can't live in the present

can't live
can't live
can't die.

*(i am alive)

Kicked in the teeth, cut by my lovers
and there's nothing i can do about it—
not that i would have wanted to change it,
anyways. swallowed in sadness.


speaks of dreams and lives in madness
eyes like oceans, swallowed in sadness.
swallowed in sadness.

days will come where i forget your face
and all the words that we have made
and i will wait
for them
to fade you
away

the father, the father, the creation—

the sin
the sun
the son

what words?—she stands
behind me, come out
from there. next—waiting—watching
what words?—gazing—what
random
collaboration of lines?—come as language—he frowns—
it is not your best*


my gift, my time, my blood—
yours.

(I see you in
      the    pupils      of my lover—
all you ever wore was black)

I wonder if    you hurt
to see     me

with             any other   but   you.

white was always my favorite color

(i used to remember you


i remember when
you used to breathe)
     but i never wanted
to taste it,
no

I  miss  the  way  you
(didn't)
talk          to          me.

some boy once told me
when we were 16
"the way i see it, it's either you or the drugs— and i know which one i've chosen"
when i remembered that,
i laughed—
because it's funny
how three years
can change you.
it's funny, too
because when i laughed
i blew
the line away.

i can't let go of the past if i am surrounded in it—
watching the old and blowing off the new.
From second to seventh, all i can recall has left me
counting months until it means something

I am a cocktail of spite and melancholy
sip me slowly, my percentage is high
and my intoxication will sneak up on you
like children's ghost stories

i am sorry for nothing
except knowing you.

Laying down and letting the sadness
consume you
Wrap
around you and slip
into your throat
like the lover you let
into your lungs
like breath

I would drop the world for you
I would drop the world for you
and I have

true love doesn't die

true love doesn't die
but it ends
and we look through glass windows
at a time we both wonder if we can touch again—
but we can't.
if we break the glass,
our hands will bleed
and happiness isn't worth the hurt again.
happiness isn't worth anything to do with you

stuck between polarities
between loving whenever you are gone
and
loving wherever you have gone

you licked your lips and they were
salty

Cycles always tend to repeat themselves in circles but
I find myself standing in the corners of them.

when you took him out
from under my wing
and into the air
and into the lightning

"if it fixes all of your problems
it will become your biggest one"*

you looked to your right
and then you left

i want a christian boy
to gift my skepticism
a rosary

you were the greatest catch of my life
but i am no fisherman
i was never meant to reel you in
i was always meant to throw you back

"child! you are

so beautiful!

in your waves by the sun

standing like architect pillars—

waiting for time

to tear you down"

i welcome lows like highs
you bit my ear and then laughed—
*"if your entire life is peaking
you're nothing but a plateau"

i have lived under a thousand suns
each day a different combination of powders and palliatives
each day a different way to substitute people and painkillers
i have found the meaning of life and it is such—
the only way to forget your name
is to also forget mine

and i am 0912 minutes of wasted breath and second guesses
longing over the lost 0814 days i searched for in other months.
i think of the 0601 seconds i were happy in—
replacing them with 0722 heartbeats trying to scrub the coldness off my fingertips.
0126 lifetimes pass and now i am warm again but unhappy.
reality left me for numbers and birthdays
and now i am alone with my thoughts

reality is fleeting
sanity-insanity, seen-unseen
i slip from meaning to mean
mean to meaning

one day you will be too poor to afford happiness

pill after pill
out of the orange
under your tongue
and into your blood

chequing account gradually dissolving into
$0.00

one day you will be too poor to afford happiness
your sanity sleeping with the devil
and i will laugh

You called me "loose"
and in a way you were right.
I can feel my screws falling out
one by one.
The thread of my seams
getting tangled as they spread apart—
like legs on graduation night.

you did not fill the hole
you were the hole

i wanted sin and *** appeal,
but you were my achille's heel.
i singed my skin so i could no longer feel
what's real, unreal—
what's real—
—unreal

you told me once
that sleep deprivation
is the equivalent of
seven shots of whisky.

so i drank your words
on tuesday afternoon
and slammed down
seven shots of whisky
on wednesday night
and watched the sunrise
on thursday morning.

the whisky wore off long ago
but i am still here hoping that
if i stay awake long enough
i will stop dreaming
of you.

Your found your wings
passing the forty-third floor
but (like a baby bird)
you couldn't figure out how to use them yet—


and you used them, then
on your way to
the heaven that you had never
believed in.

I wish I could have told you before—
That all of your problems stacked up
is less than the distance
you jumped from.

you ran around screaming
*"if life were a race
you came first to me—
but you gave me 9th place"

i am cold without your eyes in my sockets. do you still look? i still look. do you still see? i don't.

i don't.

i want—
i want to talk to the wrong crowd

Love is the death of man and I,
I am coated in a lacquer of immortality.

i met my seventh lover
seven months and
seven days
ago.
seven years
will pass
before his scent
sheds from my
skin
and seven lives
will have been lived
before i love
again.

Coins with one side
live forever
on the side
of the street
and are stuck
in the corners
of cedar-topped tables
you never clean
anymore.

Give me two faces and
place your bets on me.

Give me two faces and
spin me in the air.

i saw you one last time
before you crawled
under the couch—
back into all those photos
that i took of you

"Old habits die hard"
were the words you whispered as you kissed another cigarette and
I agreed with you
"that's why you're still in this room with me."

Scent is nostalgia
when I sprayed you around my room
in the days of september
(of church doors closing—
of burning love letters—
of tipping heads back—
and swallowing)

the two second view of Jupiter over
the two hour night that I spent awake
with you

How my memory favors a
one night second over a
one night stand.

You're not my first or my final
but you can be my favorite.

Being half-happy reminds me of you
When we'd talk on the phone and I'd write you poems
Comparing you to the pills I've never done
and the powders you described to me

dramatic sighs and erratic thighs
I picked up the phone and heard only static
you were heavens fanatic and you tried to reach it getting high

waiting for the rapture you become ecstatic
*"if
I'm an addict,
you're an addict."

I don't know what I want but—
I know I don't have it.

If I could I would live forever
inside a 10x10ft dorm room with walls higher than all your bottles could stack.