my heart felt black and cold
so I took four little green pills to take the edge off my wandering mind
thoughts of wanting to die
but when those weren't enough I let one more dissolve under my tongue
because they say that gets into your bloodstream
they say that's how to really make it work
and suddenly I was floating into a white light
there was nothing around me
not even my thoughts
I guess I understand now why van ghoh ate the yellow paint
I guess I understand why people crash their cars into trees
and wrap them around poles
when your heart feels like it's rotting from the inside you you'll do anything to feel the light

Before fools began to recycle silliness
or love and *** became a commodity to be bought off the shelves of our desires.
Before muscle outranked intelligence
Or the loose were voted people of the year
Before a misguided girlfriend replaced a faithful wife
And hardwork was kicked out of the door by web scamming
Before ******* became only rounds of loveless ***
Common sense lived next to sanity on the street called society.
Because we were too busy watering the gardens of our stupidity
Common sense gradually lost all sense and sensibility
until there was nothing left to compose a corpse.
Very few of us attended the burial
Because almost all of us didn't realize it was gone...

Uncommon sense told you how high crack could get you
common sense agreed you were going to feel fly
But like an airplane, you'd eventually come crashing like a pack of cards.
Uncommon sense got her pregnant out of wedlock
While common sense was still preparing a future under a respectable roof.
The same society which kick against abortion
Serves the pregnant teenager a cold shoulder and self-righteous looks of disdain.

How do you ponder a picture without the painting
Or seperate the sea from the Navy?
Downloading apps to help bridge the gap between stupidy and foolishness
As the brain lies unused like an abandon project.
But like Lagbaja and his mask
The more you look, the less you see
The fool will always go shopping but will never put wisdom in the basket.

The ground beneath her is shaking
Her world again is rearranging
The stars and moon are falling, crashing to the earth
The sun to light had given birth
But the sun imploded
Leaving no motive
So there she stands in the inky black nothing
Eye's wide open, but seeing not a thing
No voices, not even in her brain
It all happened so fast it was insane
One minute a beautiful blue sky day
The next it all lay in decay
Blackness so heavy it's hard to move
But slowly she makes her way, she finds a groove.
In her pocket she finds the pills
To cure the oppressive ills
She finds a place beside a dark shattered star
Lies down beside it, they both are marred
She thows her arm around it felling only coldness
But at lest to something it is closeness
For love brought on this destruction
So from the dark star she will get her fluxion
Because it will never leave her side
As long as she has money to buy

a thousand eyes follow you from newly waxed floors
and trail after me with form-filled labels, white on gold
take as needed; do not operate machinery; relax.
the shadows follow our steps, ***** and blood next to God’s poster love.
pin it to the bathroom wall: peccavi, peccavi

two years, fifteen minutes, miles of scars.
we sleep through the days, and whisper
of nights before the hurricane

("what happened to those two?")
                                                     ("Deus misereatur, the storm took them.")

I daydream of sinking my teeth into the flesh of redemption,
to rip muscle from immaculate bone.
can we not move on?
copper denial drips from our jaws.

and Deo gratias, they say, you survived.
limbless and naked on tiled floors.
Deo gratias et Deus mortuus est.
survival is in our veins.

I watch you waiting in LCD purgatory
as you see my fingers bleed into the vinyl shielded couches of the 12am ER

perception through observation — I let you reveal who I am.
what am I feeling? how do I act?
breathing through each other with liquor in our lungs.
I know how the bile tastes in your throat,
and you know the burn of the whiskey on my tongue

why do we still reach for walls
where cicada-shell notices cling with scotch tape?
take a number and restore the riches;
leave the room and tear them down.

who but God can build over the ruins of fallen cities, fallen worlds?
and ora pro nobis, He is yet unwelcome here.


we are holy, in our own names we pray, and Hallelujah, we are saved

don’t be mistaken

i tried to keep the best parts of me

tucked away

for you

don’t be mistaken

you have galaxies at your fingertips

and rainforests at your feet

use my chalk outline as a boundary

dare to break it

sincerely

your absent father figure

my feet dangle by the edge of the rooftop
and i am terrified that i have every ounce of courage slowly building up inside of me
my soles still sting from the glass shards that sliced my knuckles open
and it was odd how my mind exclusively focused on my feet and not the hands that engaged into combat with my reflection
my hair is in the way, quickly growing into the nuisance it will always be
it tastes of cheap shampoo, cigarettes, fumes and yesterday's drug abuse
but let me tell you this, i do not do drugs
but the cuts on my fingers, and the dirt under my nails, will tell you that i do
it was just a misunderstanding, a punch to the face, a jaw i thought would dislocate, and tears swelling up, obstructed by a lip bite away
i am not clean, i can show you my wrists as proof and more on my arms to gain your sorry's and mercy
but i do not want attention
it's funny since i'm the one seated at the edge of the rooftop, the top floor, the 22nd
and i am trying to capture the entire city by a single look, including my peripheral vision
trying to picture, the edges of the photograph it will be
but my hair is in the way, and i can barely see
so i pretend to perceive the scenery yet attempt to not disregard the words i think they speak
their sounds start to appear as turbid as a puddle of mud
and yet everyone looks happy enough from up here

i grow eager by the second
thoughts do not outstretch and remain abrupt as my legs suspend high up from the ground
and i hope to stay irrelevant
as my fingers slip from the concrete and my wrists twist toward the wind

i will not think of my last words until i am close enough to outline the features on their faces, and trace the roads that are lining up with vehicles, boarded with individuals who will not see me until i am scattered on the pavement

n.j.

Paxil to make you happy
**** to make you high
Nyquil to make you sleep
Energy shots to make you active

I’m told to feel a certain way
Suddenly heartbreak doesn’t feel sad
And tears don’t feel salty anymore
Love doesn’t feel good at all
And pain is something I can’t feel
A drug filled world is where I live.

Prozac to make you glad
Mary Jane to make you rad
Atarax to make you tired
Dayquil to make you work

I’m fumbling in ecstasy
Living life sounds make believe
My reflection looks old and weary
An old soul has more zing than me
I can’t get pleasure even from me
A drug filled world I where I live

Zoloft to make you smile
Mushrooms to make you fly
Tylenol to make you weak
Aleve to make you strong

I’m losing my mind
There is no strength even in my finger tips
My legs search for a firm grip
My heart seems to have stopped
And my mind can’t control me anymore
A drug filled world is where I live