all my favorite bars
remind me of old ship wreckage
blue bottled dry gin
courses through my Viking veins
I steer this helm with one aye

“intimidating”
me from the one place I love
unbelievable

I never dreamed of
being here, now
nor what is to come
there, then

13 Ways to Cringe

1.

We met under a glittering ball

at the drop of the song

I told him not to fall in love with me



2.

We were swallowed by the city

and when he craved me and wings and beer

I had to marry things like ketchup



3.

We tried again in Chinatown

the club with the ***** girl at the bar

who tried to dance her way into his lap



4.

Eventually I spent a night

but that stupid 9-5

it’s like we didnt even talk



5.

He wanted wings again

I snuck him beers

He was always a good tipper



6.

I remembered his address

a door so nondescript

I wound up forgetting again



7.

We talked on the fire escape

watching people is cool

because you get to skip yourself



8.

Matching robes one morning

we had to play divorce

while his roommate intruded



9.

There were four of us at night

two got married

two got lost



10.

When we dance in a group

half the time we spend losing it

half the time we spend finding it



11.

I try to sleep on his sailboat

but I gotta ***

and my beds down the street



12.

We play BINGO with his nieces

to want the babies to win

is an inky dabber to six cards



13.

His dad calls me his

His mom shows me new shoes

He is petting his dogs

we leave through the meat rack

but we’re all friends here

except so much more

we leave unspoken

and on the dock

no taxi light was on for us

so two hours, one sunset pass

and I’m dancing but we’re irritated

we leave it unspoken

we eat french fries

and when the chariot arrives

the fireworks start

the beautiful shimmers and

smileys in the sky

there’s no place I’d rather be

but you’re anxious to be home

with nieces and your nephew

so we leave it unspoken

and thats how we got

back to Lonelyville

give me all your nightmares
your twilight woes
gasps in the thick heat
of August’s night
swamp goblins’ prance
eerily sideways, smiling
sharp nails point to
an existing wasteland
meant to decay you
for eternity

Having a hard time in spring makes me think it is my least favorite season. My paleness frostbitten from eager pedal pushers and my hairs luster lacks gone away with the beanie I lived in. My face loves the sun, but it was too much too soon and the burn remains. Oh and death is spring because babies can’t care for themselves yet. The first buds of bland blooms, backdrop for later’s begonia. It is not exciting to see this life struggle out of sleep when the season of sadness spills over. Spring, she’s bipolar a bit. The warmth is hit or miss and she takes so long to get out of bed. Get out of the fog, get of out of the grey. She takes the moments you hold your breath the longest before plunging out of the horizon and runs her finger along the film as to slow it down because when you’re sad in Spring you feel as though winter is forever.