Who’s eyeing up is lurking deep.
Every star looks down,
wants to drop in it and swim
deep down the burrowed stream,
that deathless ab-e-hayath
every king wants to drink.

Baby I just wanna get drunk
A little something to get me outta this funk
Maybe get some smoke into these lungs
Laugh at terrible jokes and finger guns
Play some old records that I hate
While you tell me why they’re so great
Get freaked out at how fast time goes
I’ll fall asleep on the floor in my clothes
Just a chilled night, nothing crazy
I just wanna get drunk with you baby

sometimes it’s too hard to think, maybe that’s why people drink

I always find myself in moments
balanced poetically between control and chaos
With just one sip tipping me over
until I’m more than tipsy
Falling, but the string is snapping
I cant bounce back
(Stumbling out the door
I need to get away
He can’t see me like this)
And as I hit the floor
A bone-crushing silence
And then my own laughter
Uncontrollable
as I’m writhing there
with my broken stilettos
and black mascara running down
my flushed face, pressed into the pavement.
Yet I still can’t stop laughing,
suddenly finding the trivialities of my own existence so ******* funny.
My sanity is outweighed by the bottles
like rocks on the scale
Rising up in patient stillness
Until I fall, and fail.
He wouldn’t want to catch me
So I catch my breath and stand,
My ripped clothes now revealing dried, caked-on blood
(It matches the lipstick stain, still on my glass)
wounds of doubt and delirious self-indulgence.
Now everyone sees it,
knows my self-inflicted secret,
that I wanted myself to fall-
I’ve grown bored of this balancing act.
I pull my coat a little tighter
So he won’t notice that I ripped myself open
With the drinks he bought me,
and walk back into the bar,
because if I went to sleep now
the loneliness would crush me.
and worst of all,
I might miss the way his voice sparkles
At 4 am.

I take a break from writing,
go to a diner not too far
from my house.

I walk in and grab a
local newspaper and
sit down at the counter.

I order a ham and cheese
sandwich on toasted wheat
and a water.

I open the local newspaper
and start reading.

a man is sitting a couple
seats down on my left
having a cup of coffee
and also reading the
local newspaper.

“everybody’s crazy,” he tells me.

“I guess so,” I tell him without
looking up from my paper.

“must be something in the water,” he tells me.

I just smile and nod.

he finishes his coffee,
folds the newspaper
and tosses it aside,
drops fifty cents on the
counter and walks out.

I finish my meal,
pay and leave a tip,
walk out and leave
to go back home.

while I’m driving
my stomach turns
and bubbles and growls
and then it feels like
my insides drop straight
down and overcrowd
my bowels.

must be something in the water.

You got me so drunk
I forgot what a hangover was.
Twisted lies,
and the devils eyes.
In between the happiness,
is what I call hate.
Unlike what you might think,
it's what made me want you
in the first place.
I crave a drop of you and your face
now and then
when I'm not really thirsty.
I search for mercy
wrapping myself in the sky,
going to bed,
planning what I might do
when you let me drink again
the next time I see you.

Who am I?
"How silly,"
the pond replies,
"Seems your eyes'd
see through your disguises
a sight better than mine."

But when I reach into the deep,
distorted ripples lull to sleep
the me I'd need
to really make
these murky waters shine.

"Then come inside,
the water's fine,
or at least
it's all you've got to drink."
But if I submerge,
Will I ever emerge?
Or drown myself
with liquid think?

What will I find
but fishing line
cast from some other
fisherman's rod?

Is anything mine,
swimming behind
the genes of history?
Perhaps I'll try...
But I may die.
"Oh, what a mystery........."

For who am I
to have this choice?
Just some noise,
a soulless voice
dawdling in the shallows.
"But would you become
A forgotten old crumb,
A bundle of bone and tallows?"

No, I'd wish not,
but what've I got?
This pond's no ocean,
that's sure.
"So return one day
when you've steeled your faith
or maybe obtained
a magic lure."

I recall now the reason
I love winter's season,
alone on my land dwelling
limbo.
While frozen you are
reflecting the stars
over schools of mindless
minnow.

it is not enough to love,
it is never enough. you must sew your fingers shut
like treasure.
mold into paper, heart like memory foam.
you must lock
the doors and change the keys, even if they don't visit. make your first drink in this palace a delight,
mount a bottle to the ceiling - decorate
with pale pink everything.
build a fist fit for windowpanes
and break no glass.
remember that a laughing bird will never fly at night, cranberries won't grow on trees and
his blood cannot stain your teeth.
young girl your are so lucky to sleep,
so lucky to dream and so lucky to love.
but it is not enough to love.
one must also learn to be.

across the bar,...

i catch a glimpse of a girl with a scorned heart
her long dark hair
one side tucked behind her ear
and the other dangled in her face to hide her faults from the world
she stares at her drink,
twiddling with the straw on the tip of her finger
as her thoughts linger
she came to escape
this is a melody of a broken heart

a few shots later, the whole bottle down
blurry vision as she searches the crowd
warm tears fall down her face
as she reminisces a familiar place
that no longer exists
in the memory of her scorned heart


its almost 2 , time for close
but she realizes she has nowhere to go
these past few weeks this bar has been her one and only home
she's so alone ,
one more drink before she picks up the phone
and calls a cab back to reality

this is her melody of a broken heart