The walls howl at night--
they shriek, they
moan aloud and wake me from sleep.
My House is haunted
(it’s been haunted for years)
with all the shadows I’ve projected
just to empty my tired mind. I
tip-toe quietly,
speak softly,
because my ghosts, too, are light sleepers.

Your gone now
And
Im not sure
If im happy
Or just, incredibly sad beond words
Because you where so important
And then
You turned.
And i saw you
Not the you that i had fallen in love with
Not the you who was my best friend for five years
I saw the you
Who didnt care.
Ignorant
small minded
and selfish
You left.
Or was that me?

Listening to the sound of the dog in the distance,
the song with the volume uncomfortably low,
Instead of your silent noise,
is my favorite rebellion.

Snail trails of a cloud, bleeding life into a dying sky,
As feet drum out a rhythm for wounded thoughts to dance to:
pirouetting voices shout to keep a smile on that face,
And anxiety tripping in a failed twirl, trampled by pointed toes of glee.

Crushed, crushed, crushing
The struggle to expand
- and my throat is closing again
Heat, hot, dry
Floats over ribs
Seemingly detached
Yet hugging me tight
Claustrophobic
- And this sickness
(I'm sick of this sickness)
Threatens to rise out
Threatens, bubbles, teases
But I'm all shut up now
Not a whisper to escape
Tired.
Brain fogs
Fingers doze
All is fuzzed over
All is removed
All is discomfort

Your feet got tangled
in your own **** name
                             Layed
nights out end-to-end,
now you're the oldest one here drinking
in this dingy, shaking basement
                   by at least "a couple years or so,"
so shrink from searching eyes.
Strike up that ****** band again--
                  your teeth have grown tall enough
                          to ditch this ride

                          Outside,
              some drunken crusty's
             trying hard to pick a fight
      and shadowed necking in the corners
           punctuates the "Got a light?"s
                  like drowsy eyes and
             yawning sighs parenthesize
the way you check your phone a thousand times

                                       "Hey, don't you work tomorrow?"
                                        Yes, I ******* work tomorrow and...

Though all these fresh-lit fuses
                                          sizzle--
--starli­ght studs in leather night--
the morning leaves you spark-singed
               paper, sulfur lungs
                 and sagging eyes

The stairway's ******* crowded
with a thousand younger yous,
feet creak the upstairs floorboards
cue the crooked smiles in familiar hues

               But pigs have pens
               and feet have boots.
               Old hats need heads
     and birds, they need their roosts

So let the lines fill in
on this fermenting face
and lay this craggy grin
          into its worn-in place
          beneath these creaking stairs
          and let this basement shake.

It's getting bad again.

Sing to me
The lost lullaby
Of forgotten dreams--

Maybe I can sleep this night away.

I was left alone in the
Quiet darkness.
Rather than peace,
I could have screamed and cried.
My feelings are too strong.


*At least I can feel.

you are not the reason
i cannot feel comfort
amongst people

how can i begin to explain
the deep unsettling discomfort
waiting to erupt from under my skin

when i am among you
i am in the between
neither here or there

i think about things
things that hold me back
things i can't set free

i'm not letting you see me
because i am living
uncomfortably in my own skin

so if shutting myself out
will save you of discomfort,
so be it