scattered scribbles cover my knees
i'm a wreck. god. help me, please.
blank mind with spotty lies
about the state of my eyes...
i cry more than i think
just let go

make the most of foggy breath
air slips from my lungs to its death.
like a bird song from the sky,
my thoughts are peaceful. free to fly.
no noise to keep me company...
i am alone

****** and bruised,we hold our heads up high.
We keep blocking the noise inside our heads by cursing at the sky,singing the anthem of the ******.
Hell bound,we only pray for things we need to make us feel alive.
Only when tucked in "I love you's" or "I'm a mess" do we say "God".
We keep committing crimes,using our sob stories as our excuses.
As if your bruises and wounds are enough to provide vindication,
As if our pain could justify our sins.
Neglected social casualties,we glorify our alienation,use our insecurities as weapons and wound others instead.
I'm sorry because we can't be saved.I'm sorry because we are told that,"it's all in your head".I'm sorry because growing up means succumbing to the cancer that is life.
I'm sorry,I really am.

I smoked twenty-seven cigarettes
in an hour, once

but the black spots on my lungs,
that the doctor says
will **** me

the breathless wheeze
when I try to talk

the
shudder
of
air
escaping

as my veins collapse
into the cavernous
shell of my b o d y

all
come
from
you

After years of attempting this craft, I still didn’t get it.
I read it walking to class during undergrad. Back when
Roethke described how nothing would succumb to death,
not even dirt. But in time, I learned that it is a mere calling

of truth. A slight manipulation of memories. A close reading
of a scene where nothing really happens. A hillside of purple
orchards shaking in the wind, then resting its petals against
the earth. I learned that it is a foggy window seat in time

catching the first leaf of autumn connect to wet pavement
or catching two strangers, after a long day, undisturbed,
quietly ******* in the privacy of their home, smiling
at one another for reasons the world will never know.