She said "Hey you" with so much syrup. It hit me and slid down my arm like thick cold putty. My tongue felt spent and numb like i'd burned it or something. How do I respond to that? She speaks like a low note, like shes humming. Like the dial tone of someone who could actually feel sorry.
God, i'd cut those words into my flesh if I still had that kind of anger left. I want to make a raging claim. Instead I just wear her same condescending tone like its an oversized coat. Choke those raw words out of my throat...
     I say, "Hey there!",
Chipper as ever, and swollow hard like it doesn't taste bitter.

all my dad bought was tequila,
so i spent my evenings staring into it, plugging my nose
(orange is my least favorite color.)
drip drip drip, onto our sidewalks, like an iv in an inevitably diseased vein
its still coming down, slowly. you feel it if you dont move
swallow me, into tunnels made of clear plastic film,
dry me out until i am the dust left by summer

Kiss it make it better,
Hike your skirt up a little higher.
No one ever looked at you the way friends do.
This is what you call fooling around,
And you do it with him and You do it with a frown.

And he won't remember your name,
You can't get dressed without a flash back these days

It's not even that I miss **** that much, or the nicotine. I think I just miss the action of inhaling something denser than oxygen... And my teeth are whiter since I quit smoking. I can't get this foggy picture out of my head. The two of us are setting fireworks off on a bridge and maybe its just because I have to pass it on my way to work every morning but I miss you lighting my cigarettes and the rocket ships for me.

She is a candle's melting wax
a slow caress onto the pristine surface
of a strong body that softens in her presence

She leaves herself
molded onto others
a heat that overtook the light,
melting fears disguised in hot wax
stained on the holder

That is the way she leaves them
they are all just a kindle to her fire
coming and going
never the same as the start.

These young kids
look for but don't get it
thinking
Netflix,
boosting
kicks from butane,
got no patination
not old enough

but the last generation
seen it and
deem it
reprehensible
that secondary modern education
fails them because now they
think they're sensible

brawling on Friday night
crawling home
Saturday morning, they
have razors to shave with
high street banks they
can save with
but nothing to give them a clue.

I'm through with this ****
old enough now to sit out my days
in a tobacco filled haze and
gaze at nights full of stardust
because
somebody must
before it all disappears.

Love.     you are a stranger
Knocking
on my door.
Gnashing teeth
"Let me in."
You were a
Golden savage,
Glistening with
sweat and promises,
Hot and sticky
A siren on the rocks.
"Let me in."
No,
That fire is
Extinguished
I don't know you
Anymore.