If I had a word to express how sorry I am.
I don't mean apologies because to filth like me that's an area of apathy.
I am no man, to be so, I'd have to give my self-esteem;
so better yet, here, take me hands,
Because all they do is take and suffocate the ones who give me life through mistake after mistake.
I'd dig a grave so deep, not even the **** in the pit could see me.
Believe me I look at myself and say wow how ******.
I don't even deserve to walk the ground beneath that’s me.
You gave a roof and I tore every shingle,
while you looked at me with weeping eyes as if it were inconceivable.
You gave food to nourish me and I throw in trash where I should be.
You gave me money and I burned it to crisp,
And blew the ashes in your face and lashed you with a whip.
I am not human I am lower than that.
I'm more useless than anything, what is anyone going to do with that?!
I need saving from this damnation!
The same one that's destroying and crippling hundreds of nations.
Someone give me the key and I'll fight the dragon even if I lose I'd be used at least a fraction.
It’s about time to transition and make a life worth living,
instead of just walking flesh of useless breathing.
Take up from my bedside and walk a journey of a thousand miles!
I'll walk to no end over mountains conquering every obstacle!
And when I'm done I'll look back to at your face and tell you all about the amazing race!
But I'll still be just as useless as a broken vintage tape.
There's nothing in this world that will ever be good enough,
And I'll just have to accept the fact that I am nothing more than a thief who's all used up.

I've not known the feeling

Nor can I even concieve

The notion of being whole.

Selling my brand months at a time

Interested parties holding auctions

Unaware, or unwilling to acknowledge

The stock in future  endeavours

So now I exist in 2nd hand memories

In the back of the mind, or the attic

Covered in dust, overexposed

A monument to my regrets

My last memory of…you
I drove all the way through town, chain-smoking through half
my pack as I burned deep inside from stoking the ashed embers of a fire
I had attempted to smother before it burned us both out after it had licked

Its way up my whole body—

But I reveled in how it ate me from the
deepest
inside while I let the tobacco
consume the healthy volume of my lungs leaving me breathless which I prayed
would either make you notice the red in my cheeks
or make you worry about me
in contrast from the systematic silence that had deafened our
friendship and scarred
any possibility of our future, but
when I got there you told me to drop the habit so it didn’t linger in my hair.
You also pointed out where the butts had rubbed away my lipstick and with a look that made
me want to smack
you across the face, but
also crush your lips
with mine because it
deepened your gaze
and sharpened your jaw
instead I said I’d gladly put the rest on you. Your friends, the Miss Priss Brigade,
saw chipped nail polish and slightly dull skin and last summer’s leftovers and I knew

we’d never end up
unfiltered and imperfect in the barely industrialized studio flirtingly touching
and kissing and dreaming and enchanting ourselves with the what-ifs of a future
we saw through wine glasses worn

by teenagers who didn’t know love from illusion.