In a crowded room
We escaped
Ran outside
And twirled
Spinning in circles
Glow sticks in hand
Just like the alcohol
I let the toxins drip
All over me

I have lost track
Of the smoke
And cold breath
A hand-rolled cigarette
Sits between my teeth
Along with many
Other things

The words
I am too afraid to speak
Slip underneath my tongue
And dissolve with another drink

My feet felt heavy
Two-thousand thirteen
Was quickly escaping
Last year was flushed away
By champagne and a fresh taste of human skin
At 12:01

I've come to know the
hospital well
the stale smells
the nurses names and stories
the hand sanitizer
the countless quiet
nervous
elevator rides
stuff like that
I could even write a full review
of the cafeteria food
should this hospital
have it's own newspaper.
There's been too many sad days
but I find myself laughing
as she shows off her blonde
extravagant wig
The doctors and nurses
Fall in love with her
her energy
her aura
As most people do
They laugh with her
And cry with her
And hope with her
People come in
They say
things will be fine
things will get better
My mom grows weary
She's heard this since stage two
They say
keep up the fight
But seen as a fight
Her getting sicker only implies
she is not fighting hard enough
that she is losing
nothing can **** hope quicker
but she shrugs it off
She doesn't need some
greeting card or nylon balloons
or some
half-assed healer
or some gurus blowing
smoke from burning sage
She needs authenticity
connection
meaning
She needs to be told things are awful
And probably won't get better
She needs complete vulnerability
on both ends
She needs real
Which is hard to find
in a lot of places
and faces
and words
an hour with her though
she would get it out of you
the 'you' that you didn't even know
she touched lives beyond
whatever I ever imagined capable
There are many ways
I wish to be like her
but most
is to be able to smile
as real
and transparent
as she did
when I am about to die.

All those feelings you read about
have hit me all at once
and I feel emotionally, mentally and physically drained.

Being home helps some, but does not
fill the void left in my heart
or the loneliness when I walk in the door.

Tears flow without reason, smiles are hard to come by,
and love will be lost for what I am sure will feel like eternity.

I have never been a perfect lover,
way too many faults
but I have always tried to be the best I could be
I am afraid my well is dry.

I am broken, and there is no quick fix to mend my heart.

I could write about how the stars in sky,
reflect like the gleam in your eyes and connect us,
even though we are thousands of miles apart.

I could compare the curve of the moon,
to the glossy, upward bend in my lips,
when ever a thought of you passes by.

I could say you are like a working man's morning cup of Joe,
warm and uplifting,
something that always keeps him going.

But all of that seems way to complicated right now,
right now I need simple,
I need you,
to lay down with me,
and forget what this world is even here for.
Forget about the stars and the moon,
forget about work and ****** cups of coffee.
Because you in my arms is a big enough world for me.

tell me where you found God
I don't want the name of some church you went to
I want a detailed story of a brilliant burst of light
or that time you heard a voice in the dark
I want to know your details
I am fascinated with man
and higher beings
and the fact that it has to be real if I see it
if I believe it
tell me where you found Angels
doesn't matter if it was in a hospital room
or a highway
did you feel hands on your shoulders?
think in lights
and see in patterns
I want to know where you found safety
I found mine in a low voice telling me that the angels
were real
and how tragic it is to not believe in anything
and to also believe in everything

I was late to school once
reading a story about a heroine addict
who found the closest thing to God
in a little girl
talking to a wall
I thought about it
for so long

I missed 7 am

I want to miss 8 am
or 9 am
thinking about your story
of how you found
safety
finally
tell me,
where did you find God?

my bones shift and crack under my skin
like they never have before
i can't tell if tension is coming
or going
or sticking in my temples where it is so familiar
bones shape me
make me
these bones seem to hate me
they need another way to escape me

i am not doing so well

For the sake of time
just undress your eyes and tell me a secret
Tell what you’re about and exchange
societal mediocrity for sincerity
Because I’m afraid you sometimes let lies and stupidity cling to your clothing
and I think you should shed
Like snow from the sky
and let me see some bones
some proof that you exist
if only in the conventional sense
if only in the measurable sense
Take a step back and let me look at you against a soft and powder blue back drop
Because I like the view
Because you are an image of actuality
and I don’t have to touch you to know that you’re real
I don’t have to trace the lines on your hands
to be taught that they not only circle around your wrists
but also across your face
and they tell a story
One I’m afraid will be misinterpreted, neglected
I’m afraid it will only be read as the surface of the skin
I want to dissect the look of concern from your face
Because I can only offer you a lack of words
for all I want is the sight of you
the sight and simple notion of your existence
which is a subtle scream smothered by the slap of the wind at our ears
and I’m not entirely sure if it was ever there at all
So I’ll ask you to scream it again and louder
until the sound rubs the slippery slide of your trachea
raw and ******
And I’ll ask you to scream it again and louder until the vocals
slip past my sense and sink into my mind
where I can only hope for them to subside as a memory of an explosion
and wait for them to bloom again in the spring
tangled twine of the mind
impossible for me to forget you

If,
at the end of my life,
you were to ask me about the one thing I loved the most
I would answer
"Breathing"
because it was the one thing that
never
left
all that I have ever truly known
is the air in my lungs
and the ground at my feet