i'd rather get drunk
to the sound of your voice
but here i am
listening to music
on the midnight train home
all the good nights
and sleep tights
can't mask the ending
that began when we met

Time traveling
Unraveling
The love
That's dug
Its way
Inside my memories.

You wouldnt like me when I'm drunk
Or perhaps you'd like me too much

Push pins sting
As they slide into my skin
But after long enough
They go numb
Can hardly notice the blood anymore
Second
Third
Fourth skins are shed
Leaving a raw innocence in it's place
Uninhibited by restraints
Such as logic
Or forethought
Blinders on too tight
Choking out anything that would be
Scandalous in daylight
A deafening scream
That's part siren song
Vice grip fingers
Holding on for too long
The Devil's wife has come to dance
Please walk away
Or I promise we'll both hate me sober

Hand me a tall glass
of a swooning potion
bubbles rising to the top
and the foam in motion
as I sway back in forth
my cheeks marked with red blush
uncontrolled laughter
and careless touch

Does the world really spin
as fast as it does?
And does alcohol help us to see it?
Are these just
intoxicated shower thoughts?
Am I conscious enough to believe it?

Everyone's dancing
while I'm standing still
or is everything backwards
no one really knows
swonk yllaer eno on
or do they?
like a tainted echo
of what's really going on.
But I don't know what's happening
so does that really matter?
Do we matter?
What matters?
Who cares besides ourselves what happens?
Is that a paradox?
Will the world explode?
What have I done?
Oh well :1
all that matters now is

Sleeeeep

In the big red house
Lives a man of many words
Usually delightful
But with each bottle
The meaning and intentions blur

And once the bottles gone
No matter how polite
There's still a lingering memory
Of his words
From past
Drunken nights

I thought expressing how I’m feeling would be freeing.
I told them they were a fraud.
All-knowing, but clueless about ‘being’.
A narcissistic deity with no right to call itself God.

An entity so powerful it can create a universe in six days,
But it created a boy who every time he starts something, cannot commit.
A boy so riddled with self-loathing that every day was a haze.

I  told it,
“I’m afraid.”
That night I laid in bed thinking of more ways to describe the blades I felt piercing my heart.  The jaded and absent almighty father who may as well have abandoned me and left me with the maid.

This is why I stopped being religious in the seventh grade.

And this was a desperate plea.
I can’t get to sleep.
The weight of the world is the weight of my sheets.
Try to get up, but everything’s spinning.
I asked God,
“Is this just the beginning?”





“read.”

That’s all that it said.
Ghosted by God like it had a hot girl at a bar’s passive nonchalance.
And it fills me with dread.  Like I was just diagnosed with lung cancer.

But I told God, “What I’m most afraid of is losing hwr.”
I meant to say her,
a textual slur,
but at least that plea will live on,
Despite no answer.

I was walking out of the Quaff, roommate by my side
Heading up Broadway to my poorly parked car
And you came running out after me, yelling "John, John wait!"
And I told you earlier, you shouldn't call me that
Just because you can't remember my name
But you couldn't help yourself, I think

A group of drunk kids on scooters are racing past us
I'm looking at you while you look through me  
And John, actual John is glancing from you to me to you to the street
You look like you might kiss me
And John looks like he doesn't want to see it

So I remind you that you meant to head home hours ago
And you laugh and say you just might  
And a drunk woman is calling your name
And your eyes are glossy and far away
And part of me wants you to
And the rest of me just says "I'll see you tomorrow night"
And we go our separate ways
And I worry about you all night