A visitor,
not a resident
once again.

You walk in and out
as though it was a revolving door.
You visit me as though I am a sovoneour shop,
just to see how much one would miss you.

My heart has become exhausted of
the constant switch between the void and the presence.

For you make a vacation out of me,
when I ought to be a sanctuary.
You turn me into a hotel room,
when I ought to be home.

My name was not the one that was to be traced on sand and washed away by the waves
but the one you would engrave with ink on your skin.

I am oxygen
I am water
Not momentary
or unncessary
like the label of the presence of expiry you labeled me with
Or your temporary devotion.

My top hat
full of thick liquid.

It looks like the sun
dazzled itself to nausea,
through the window of
desperate fingerprints
- to my precious
black, top hat.

I can feel
under my body, the ***** marks
people left before
me, when grunting and
******* and crying.

The ***** at the reception,
filled crosswords and smoked
two at a time,
told I will enjoy my time
at their guesthouse

- with teeth, that could
make dentists despise
their job.

In the closet, my clothes
dropped from the hanger
- guess they have given up.

I'm still considering,
using my precious
top hat.

Her heart was a secret garden
With walls to dwarf the Eiffel Tower
Mine, on the other hand, was a pebble on the beach
Completely open and natural
Her body was an oasis awarded to the worthy traveler
Displayed in the Louvre with the lights angled just so
Mine, on the other hand, was a cave on a mountain
Privacy’s abode, enclosed with ancient stone armor.
It was just the two of us alone in a hotel room
With Paris, France peering in on us.
She was the best friend I’d been yearning for,
The lover my childhood crush could never have been,
The sister who showed me how to understand myself,
And she was the girlfriend I was never brave enough to imagine.

Throwing silk sheets over a worn mattress
I cannot fathom the idea of you sleeping here
you accidentally pulling a corner off and seeing the stains beneath.
This hotel has been vacant for months.
But that doesn’t mean the guests before you
Were kind to it.
They said ‘**** it’
Left the mess for house keeping,
Blood stained walls
Feathers from ripped pillows
A maid sighs and shakes her head
Ten dollar tip for wasted effort
Have to put the pieces back together again
Vacancy sign illuminated again.
Do not do this to me again.
Cleaning supplies are expensive.
And this business has made me so poor

I tried to take up residence in your heart
But there was a sign that read
"No Vacancy"

I've been close enough
To see the rocks break
Under me.
And fall into the sea,
Scraping every branch
On the way down.
There's still lead on my lips
And blood on my clothes.

I'll check into the hotel
And leave my bags at the front desk
While I sit over the sink
And watch the cold water
Run down my hands.
Spewing out my fingers
Like a superpower.

And when the magic fades
I'll break all the china
To make sure they still make sound.

I'll try to checkout.
I want to checkout.
But before I do,
A movie I've never seen
Shows up on the TV
And I decide to stay awhile.

Leave those New York blues behind
Forget the Chelsea Hotel
Living in LA's a lot like Heaven
With all the sins of hell.

It's 5:54 a.m. and the hot salty water bashes against the sand.
Now, the first cars emerge from the night-time lights.
I see a couple,
Him white shirt
Her black shirt
Looking like tourists,
They have the same desoriented expression as I do.

Couple blocks away I watch the red neon
Blinking from the distance,
Next thing I know I'm traveling through
                    each yellow light
                    each window
                    every spit of sea foam
                    every palm tree,

On top of another hotel
I found a room with lights on, yet
No one seems to be dazzling
                         in the dark
Gazing the horizon and the dark sea
All by himself...
                                        ...besides this hopeless fool
                                        waiting for the sunrise