See them go..
A million suicidal shamblers, staring out
Hatred and beauty and dilated eyes
And long hair punks waiting for a revolution that will save them. United in disunity, calmed by deaths and shocked by wonders of medicine
Cool and collected, lost and dyslexic
They wonder at the halogen lights and stare at extinguished candles
Catching at the edge of their sight a whiff of angel-smoke
How many were cast out and how many ran
To this mecca, this eden, this dying heaven
Filled with the dead? Who knows
They are the ones who wander in daylight through the city square
Swigging red wine and chanting obscene hymns
Naked millennial drag kings of all they survey
living in art deco flats, old factories and empty rooms
they lie awake and listening to the shunting streets outside
and the symphony of buskers on the corner.
They love each other in wild ******
Dancing to rhythms stolen from slave songs
Screaming, bellies full of claret
And brassic basic dysphoric cravings they writhe and fall
And hum against each others’ bodies
Drawing knives along each others’ veins
And hope,
Frozen,
Waiting for the revolution.

That will save them.

my mind weaving baskets
and my arms weaving hugs from the backseat
so many thank-you-for-loving-me's
all i could do was laugh and love you
(thank god i didn't call you like i wanted to)
you told me you wanted my happiness
where it belonged
with the others like me in the kitchen
i told you that you were wrong
i'd never leave you so solitary
oh don't you forget what i said in my stupor
in my public display of desire for affection
(what would i have said?)
you've seen me at my worst now
and even then all i can say is how
much i adore you and miss you
it must be my most passionate truth
(too much)

A beer drinker I am not
I prefer tea nice and hot
I'll drink a soda once in a while
Cherry pepsi that's my style

As far as coffee I will pass
Don't like the bitter taste that it has
But apple juice is quite alright
Or a hot chocolate for a cold night

I think that water is the very best
For quenching a thirst it beats the rest
I could choose cold or I could choose hot
But a beer drinker I am not

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

He didn’t grow up in a good home.
He didn’t have a supportive mother.
He didn’t have a father worth speaking of.
He didn’t know how to read or write.
He didn’t know that 2+2=4.
He didn’t have any friends.
He didn’t know that such wonderful things existed.
He didn’t play or run outside.
He didn’t have the permission to.
He didn’t graduate high school.
But he didn’t drop out.
That night, he didn’t stop drinking.
That night, he didn’t use his head.
That night, he didn’t care.
That night, he didn’t put on his seatbelt.
He didn’t see the car coming.
He didn’t hear the crunch of the metal.
He didn’t hear the screech of the tires.
He didn’t wake up.

"it's all about preference"
no, it's not that you prefer coffee over beer
there's a fine line
between quietly sitting
and quietly seething;
there are days for coffee
and there are days when you just really feel stupid
sometimes it's funny

Ah **** man, my bad
I wanted to write something
And now I'm too drunk