this is that feeling I love
a buzz
like a happy vibration radiating through the skin
my face feels like I’ve been poked for a dentist appointment
my head is swirly and positive and I kind of feel like dancing or complimenting pretty girls on their smiles and their hair
when I close my eyes I feel high
a fulfilling swelling gulps my chest and I’m feeling giddy
oh what a world when suddenly everything feels fine again from a tall alcoholic beverage and a fine February day
it’s not that complicated really
This thing called life

I am drowning in the bubbles that my father introduced me to.
sipping on things I never should have known about
at such a young age

I am genuinely scared about my very existence.
I am so, so exhausted.

I drink until my eyes blur and the world spins.
Then when I wake up
I am still tired.

bubbles.

what a funny concept...

tiny little spheres

floating

in the sips of drinks I should not have.

At a bar near Grand Central Station,
Free flowing alcohol and conversation.
The steady sound of champagne glasses clinking,
In celebration of new beginnings.
Strangers drunkenly exchanging digits,
With the hope of a quick backdoor exit.

i lied about the exorcism--
that neon ghost
still haunts my phone
and though all of us are silent
you sing my tinnitus till the storms get back.

you don't know it's been raining all week
because i never told you;
i'm so scared of spirits and spiders
and weathering small-talk--
your sun and my curtain-clouded bedroom.

in a sunpatch on your floor,
i dreamt of leaping off the grid
and landing back in lake hylia a hero;

now i only dream of daytime drinks,
a summer solitude as dull as the ends of my hair
'cause i can't even throw back my dad's ninety proof
without the sun in my eyes

so the truth is
between zelda and zookeeping
i've been seancing on the dusty carpet
arranging myself around album booklets and ***** shirts

and maybe i couldn't help it

maybe i lit a couple candles by your name
not thinking you'd think of me
or think to shine solar snapshots onto my pillow--
a presence to make me breathless
enough that i can't
***** them out

and they keep me up at night

empty wine bottles in your room
when i wake up, sometimes,
i still reach for you

empty glass bottles
rattling around in the backseat
why do i still think of you

very start of the new year
empty wine bottles hidden in your bin
i couldn’t be around that, you knew this
what the **** were you thinkin’

topo chico clinking in the backseat
reminds me of when i found the
empty something-else in your recycling

(sheesh)

driving me bonkers
that i still crave to kiss you
it’s the little things
that help me not miss you

bought me the wrong kind of candy for a late valentine’s
and maybe i shouldn’t care as much as i do
but i couldn't help the eerie feeling creeping inside
that things wouldn’t ever be what they used to