We were listening to California Love when your friend left my room at midnight
and you decided to stay longer and move onto the single bed of my dorm room.

I didn't ask for you and I to be alone in my room.
I didn't ask for bruises on my neck or a permanently locked door or a situation I never thought I'd end up in—
but somehow I ended up with them.

You want to be a model and it shows—
you wanted photos on your phone
of us making out before i kicked you out of my room
with a smile on my face because violence
is scarier when you could reciprocate it
(i know you're not above that).


you started crying because I am "so beautiful,"

taking off my shirt
"too beautiful to pass up."

"Like Barbie"

It took me twenty minutes to convince you to leave
with California Love playing again on my laptop.


California only loved you because they love ****** up try-hards who did too much coke once and dropped out of university.

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

This Demon screams,
This Demon moans.
He slices my soul,
He breaks my bones.

He takes over my body,
Only to kick, to scream,
And when he is done,
He rips at my seam.

He’s got other Demon friends
With plans underway.
They grab at my arms,
They pull me away.

The destination is isolated;
A building of brick.
A man adressed himself as, “Doctor,”
Isn’t that sick!?

His comrade in white dress,
A clipboard and a voice that sings
She smiles at me with metal, sharp.
Such odd delusions, this ***** brings.

These Demons do tests,
To determine my will.
Scans and long needles,
A daily purple pill.

My least favorite torture,
They call, “Spinal tap,”
I’m breaking, I’m breaking,
I am a twig; I snap.

I yell and I scream,
As they put me to sleep.
The only sound now,
Is the metronome’s beep.

I’m normal, I swear!
It’s this Demon in me!
But the “Doctor” calls different,
He mutters, *“Insanity…”

This new friend, who showed me
New ways of thinking.

She came much too often.
And then her eyes started bleeding.

I thought she only came when I was bored.
So I went out and bought a book.
But then I heard her over my shoulder.

I thought she was chained to my house
So I went out Friday night.
I saw her in the theater.

I thought she hated school
Where all those social butterflies gather
But then she sat with me in English.

I thought she only came out in darkness
But when I flick the lights on,
She is still here with
Bleeding eyes. Smiling.

A lover like my lungs—
     That partly provide
     with smoked-out abuse
and the air inside.

A lover like my viens—
     That tear open wide
     When your mouth does
and the blood inside.

A lover like my spine—
     crouched over snapping
     as I write this.
I hope it breaks like this rhyme scheme.

I love you like my lungs, my viens, and single spine
All were yours
And never mine.

I am not mother, just lover,
to legs never met. Housewife, I once dreamed
of sweat over ovens, oh only to love in,
places I was told not to go. I am wet for another
touch, weak knee for ****, low self esteem,
I am student supreme.

I told you once, that my nihilism
was the only thing I ever bet with.
I wasn't lying, then, really,
when I told you I had nothing to lose.

Lately I’ve been feeling out of place in places that used to bring me a lot of comfort, I don’t want to be near groups lately, I can’t remember recent events because I’m too busy remembering how I felt during those recent events than the actual events themselves, my entire day to day outlook depends solely on one feeling, a constant feeling of always knowing you’re going to be late.

"I don't know how you can be so high and low in the same night."

"It's easy. I'm just highly lonely."

The sun sings, "Why the winds do blow
across the planes of the earth,
I shall never know."

The planes of earth
the never knew who to look up to
finally fly up in to the sun.

The sun sets on the worlds below
The sun sets on the clouds to know

"why the winds do blow
across the planes of earth
I shall never know
for I
for I
can never rain, can never snow
Can only warm
surface below."

We are
Done and gone.

Two that are
One apart.
Two that do
Not rhyme.

I am done.
You are gone.

Do not trust in me, my dear.
I can make you fall farther,
     than your deepest fear.

I’ll break your bones,
I’ll break your heart.
Your head is a bullseye,
and my hand holds a dart.

I’ll give you bruises, (accidentally!)
royal purple and a cobalt blue.
Because if I can’t even trust myself…
Why in the world should you?

If you've cheated on every lover you've ever had,
It's probably you.

Actually, on second thought,
It's probably me

(i like it when it's cloudy and the water surface reflects blue and grey)*


http:// i left my car keys on your table made of cigarettes
looked out the ***** bottle window and knew—
there's just something so ******* beautiful about destruction.

The skylines, the cruise ships, the water in every window.
From the sixteenth floor of my permanence—
I do not write to you.

You said you were drafted
and I
misunderstood.
For a fleeting second I almost thought
that I could pull you out of my drafts, polish you, and publish you.

Some say they can't remember
    the details of their dream.
I think I can.
They might be wrong
    and fuzzy
    and a little plotless.
But I adore them.

They are what my mind
doesn't think
    in waking times.
    They are strange.

They are so beautifully strange.

Dreams are always dressed in black.
The lack of you I do attack.
Night is where the mind can speak.
You're the only one I seek.
Sleek and steady, I once drew back
In myself I find a crack
But dreams are always dressed on black
And you're the only one I lack.

It's a
    Hit-after-hit
Spitting image of the gutter.

Needle sewn to the vein,
chained to the mind,
Finding God, only to
     Fall.

All these
Psychedelic-whatevers,
No use for names.

Just effects,
Just feelings.

My spine is snapping
And dripping
Out acid.

It is, an odd feeling
Of
Who am I?

Getting darker as the night does
(Yet)
It is not even midnight?

It is, realization.
That perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
I took
You took
Maybe one or two or ten
too many tablets.

Gorging yourself on your finger to
Save your life.

That inveterate thought of
"Please don't be too late"
Is when you know
I know
It's too far
Gone.

-
-
*My eyes love you so much—
I only wanted to see two of you.
I only wanted to see two of you.

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

You use italics to cover up the fact that all of the words you speak are your father's.

*"Because no one wants to tilt their head to read between the lines"

cannot trust a thought.
i know not if i am action, reaction, overreaction.
i reside somewhere between emotion and environment

Entire Cities Made of Paper


                                                         ­                            —If you have no free time
Duck your head when you run down the stairs—
                                                         ­ —You will forget what you used to enjoy
Leave at 7:30, not 7:33, the bus is always early—
                                                          ­                                       —In your free time
Paper Thursday, integrate over frequency, tomorrow, today—
Entire bodies made from numbers—           —Entire cities made of paper

I used to swim in seas of possibilities—Now I only drown in rivers of ink

I had a dream where I purged you of technology
(There was a beach at our feet)

I had  dream where I     met you\
you dissolved away in the surf—
pixel by pixel

Fall in love with the insane—
Because crazy nevers leaves the honeymoon phase,
sadness can always be romanticized,
and appreciation stems from contrast.

Do not fall in love with the insane—
Because you will never realize it, but you'll know it:
that nothing sober will ever match up to psychotic intoxication,
and you will always be living your life
knowing you can't be satiated on sanity.
You will settle, and you will be happy:
But you will always be looking for the madness in people.

I dream of you, but
I do not day dream of you, and
That is a step in the left
Direction.

close my eyes.


today, the thesaurus revealed
himself to me as
my enemy. i
do not want any words
to describe this. keep a
perfect sonnet of all
feelings felt until now.
keep everything
under the radical
complex. prescribe me a
boundary condition.


open my eyes.

Nostalgia wasn't a liar, neither was my mind, but we kept having dreams of better times while in the best time of our lives. The golden girl was the girl next door. The golden girl next door. You're too young to feel like a baby again. You're too young to feel like a baby again.

The golden girl next door, behold, a pearl, ex-*****, and a diamond.

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

My fingers are just
a concept.
My mind,
a theory.



(my skin:
papyrus)

That's why the sun
makes you cry
When you stare him
in the eye.

Overload—
Love: authentic.
Benefits: carcinogenic.

Pop-pop, rattle-bang
Red being the color of the carpet
In hasty prayers, upwards is forgotten
North, East, Smith & Wesson

I, myself, perhaps a sinner.
You, ourselves, we are:
The saint.

So shining, so vivid, so bright.
You were a star,
My genie at night.
You were so far.

So many girls looked up,
They thought it was love,
But you only hooked up.

I tried to be special,
to stand out and shine.
But I'm only human,
I can't claim space as mine.

The other thing that I want now,
Is for another star to show you how
It feels to be played,
Looked at by the sun,
And know you weren't the only one.

I'll look upon you, falling star.
Sinking closer, no longer far.

My wish is for all the girls you've played,
To think, to dream, recall,
and make wishes from your downfall.

i stay up late, lately
waiting for the day when i call you the wrong name—
the wrong syllables in the right mouth.
because that's the way i was taught
and this is the way i will teach you.

i pray to your temples
with every slighted
touch of forehead

"i am the scientist sitting on the pew
holding a textbook bible.
i don't question you."

i have built a
rib cage chapel
out of love and letters.

I remember the day well—
When your lips traveled down my neck like a greyhound bus,
Stopping at the station of my collarbone and lighting a cigarette there during the five-minute break.
Traced me down once more and—
All of your belongings still in the cargo hold—
then left.

So much inspiration,
I think I've found my
expiration.