A writer's hands
are soiled in ink
and I know it
'cause I've written your name
over and over
and the black covers my skin
while I write of all your love
and all your pain and heartache

I cried,
while eating,
a cheeseburger,
and no,
it didn’t,
make it,
salty.
Right after,
I realized,
they forgot,
pickles,
but I didn’t,
really have time,
to care.
Could have,
ordered,
a milkshake,
but I don’t,
feel like,
mowing,
my yard,
or talking,
to boys.
I cried,
while eating,
a cheeseburger,
but at least,
it had,
bread,
to soak up,
the tears.

Today I walked to the park and back
And saw suburbia rearranged into dizzying distortions
All the trees had a purplish tint
And on the grass, I saw multicoloured light reflecting off the dew
When I got home
I attacked all the imagery with a dagger to reshape reality
And a blank mirror to recreate the world in my head.

The world that was quiet is humming again
I hear choirs of crickets and choral basslines
Cacophonous and ecstatic in the constant confusion
The dull concrete is shot open with marquee moonlight
Indulgence pouring out, free-flowing like communion
And painted onto canvases like rain on a car window
Daydreams and delusions are ice cream melting, sticky and sap-like on your chin
Clouds pixelate with diamond edges
Voices ring out in a flurry
And there isn't a soul in sight.

So I breathe in the air
And let all the sounds and smells and limitations of reality colour my imagination once again
Daydreamed delusions and nightmarish reality are one
Filaments in the vibrant violence
Until the summer fades away again.

I want,
to,
draw a,
picture.
With stick,
figures,
and a dog,
on a hill,
with a ball,
and I promise,
I won’t,
eat the,
crayons.
I just,
wish,
I could be,
a toddler.
I want,
to throw,
a tantrum.
Pull my,
hair,
throw,
the paint,
scream,
until I’m,
shaking,
and you’re,
pacing.
I want,
to be,
a toddler.
Play with,
blocks,
and dollies,
be your little,
princess.
I,
Want,
To,
Be,
A,
Toddler.
Pout,
Stomp my feet,
Until I get,
My way.
Pretty please?
I want to be,
a,
Toddler.
Let me,
Scream,
I want,
Crying.
Let,
Me,
NO!


This isn’t,
me.
I’m not,
a,
toddler.
I want,
to paint,
a picture,
with stick figures,
and a dog,
on a hill.
I promise,
I won’t,
make it,
into soup.

Bathtub in the toaster,
I’m a little,
backwards,
but at least my,
cigarette’s lit.
Got high,
waisted bell bottoms,
denim jeans on,
broken converse,
I can’t afford,
my meds,
but I got,
the next round,
in my own,
head.
Yeah,
sure,
maybe it sounds,
a little bit sad,
but I’m just,
trying to buy,
a drink.

I kinda sorta,
skipped,
right on,
a land mine,
last night,
and now,
my shoe laces,
aren’t tied,
and my heart,
well,
it’s shattered,
to pieces,
this time.