Lately, my bones have been aching more than usual.
They call them growing pains and although I may not be physically
growing, I can still feel myself changing.
I remember when I was younger
and you used to be my best friend,
you were the super hero and I was your faithful sidekick.
But lately, the only attention I seem to get from you is just the
anger that was meant for my mother.
(That she never deserved.)
Maybe I remind you of her too much.
I remember once in the car you yelled at me.
You said, "Just shut up. You can never be wrong,
can you?
You're just like your ***** of a mother.:
You didn't know it, but I was crying.
And for whatever reason,
I still feel love for you.
You got in my face,
You yelled at me,
You almost hit me.
"Stay out of my ******* life."
I still love you though.
You drink so you don't have to feel and
that's one thing I've learned from you.
Thank you,
Dad.

-o.b.

The excitement
of getting drunk
left me, but
I still drink daily.
Out of control?
Very possible.
Going to change it?
Probably not.
-JRM

Breath and leather,
ragged, eyes that
smooth over into dark,
fingernails and teeth
that catch at a chest
of two parts whiskey
and three parts grief.

Another scarred fist
perched on a dusty bar
and beer against a lazy
mouth. He left before left,
his skin robbed of promise,

like beginning, dust again.

For the longest time
I've had this romanticized view of lonesome drinking
I picture someone slowly zippin on a drink
and smoking sophistically
in a dull light
while writing great poetry

But when I've finished my 12th beer
and my 28th cigarette
in a dull light
And the only thing I've written
is something ****** like this

that romantic view is dead

Still I know
that tomorrow
Once my hangover is gone
I will do it all over again

Darling,
You’re drinking away,

all that’s left of you.

You’re smoking away,

every youth of your life.

Won’t you please stop?

Oh, if only you could see
what’s 
under those weight you carry with you;
Is a beautiful, young and strong lady.

A tender, loving and careful soul.

You are,
A lady destined for greater things.
Just sadly born into a life,
With everything to lose.

oh, What a shame.

How many times
Can I draw on my arms
With sharpie
To prevent me
From hurting myself?

I've found new ways
To induce pain.

I smoke.
I drink too much.
I search for love in others
Who want nothing to do with me.

These black lines
Along my forearms
Do not shield me from pain
Like I wished they would.

They only mask
My fear.

It's nice to see you after such a Long time apart
Your touch makes all the colors of my skin turn to art
Several nights pass, down this bottom of a glass
I cannot speak my relief to have you in my hands
These first few sips as I bring you to my lips
Make me feel so dizzy, filthy -
This hell is my bliss
Though after much time with ya
I feel nauseous in my boudoir
Maybe my dependence is a hindrance to my brilliance
But I don't know who I am in the presence of your absence

the club is not the place to be
so the bar is where you'll find me
with my girlfriend doing shots
scanning the room and catching nods

your eyes hang in the smoky air
come on over, if you dare
trust me, I'll give you a chance
surely you see that, in my glance

my friend and I are laughing like girls do
my magnetic eyes push and pull at you
starring, you haven't looked away
I can see the interest, you convey

another shot the bartender places
confused, he gestures and your glass raises
I smile as my girlfriend whispers, he's cute
toasting you, we lift our shots and shoot

I won't beg you to on come over
but it's only wasting time until you come closer
the possibilities, I foresee
I'm already in love with your body

in confidence, over you saunder
in my mind the question, I ponder
obviously I see, you're in to me
but what about my friend... are you into three?

Put down your bottle
Drink some fresh air
You can't conjure hell
If you're already there
Stop sipping confidence
This ichor wears out
It empties anxieties
Then fills you with doubt.