Time has a fickle memory
Such oft it o’erlaps
Deja vu, of the lyric —
That Time itself — entraps.

Devours the page — engorged
‘Til you are paper-forged
Drowned — heady, in pretty epithet,
Losing Time you can’t afford.

You can’t unbind the shackles
For Time has lost the key –
Better to live a fleeting bliss
Than a prolonged misery.

I could feel your skin moving
while you were thrusting
Couldn’t see your eyes
They were open
Piercing holes through the walls
of my memory
I knew it was wrong,
the wrong place to be

We were both angry and lonely
and you’d been inside before,
me unwilling
And you got away.
Tragically bonded,
all I wanted from you
was familiar bad ***

It went by so fast
I thought I was dying
But you never crashed
until in the kitchen, crying
I could feel the glass break
like I was the aluminum
at the bottom of the sink
swallowing the whisky

And it burned the whole way down
as you jogged my memory
of your past use of force
I got away this time
lost in the night
as you were screaming
and begging for
familiar bad ***

I sit in stillness,
My soul scrapping at my skin trying to break through.
No matter the self care or the nourishment I feed my soul,
It still resides.
My flesh just a blanket for what lies within.
I sweat,
I eat,
I smoke,
But I will never be able to escape the forever sugar rush.

A ocean,
an urge
A waterfall all ready to pour out.
But not a single drop trickles down.

It's all in
drowning
and swimming;
gasping
and breathing ;
emotional
and impulsive.

I am crying words,
but there are no tears.

Impulsivity, I am hopelessly in love with you.

Buy the shoes.
Ditch school.

Kiss her.

Drive 30 minutes
for french fries

Kiss him.

Buy 18 pet snails.
Eat the octopus tacos.

In acting class they told me
to follow my impulses.
At home they told me not to.

A blessing and a curse
might land me in a hearse
But I’m living

Today I wrote a letter to someone I love and I’m going to send it

Tomorrow I might stay home and cook pasta,
or maybe I’ll drive to Portland.
Pack only a few T-shirts and my terrifying
overabundance of freedom

Are you proud?

I’ve been told not to be so impulsive.
To think more rationally.
To weigh the consequences.
“You’ll regret it!”

But the greatest regret I’ve ever felt
is having not done anything
about something that is my everything.

I know I’m not an idiot.

I’ve told myself this for years and I’ll stick to it,
but there will never be a day
when my mind defeats my gut.
Sometimes it means I’m

irresponsible.
Unpredictable.
Messy.
Slutty.

“Who are you anyway?”

I have a secret
-I don’t know who I am

And if I’m lucky, I never will.

You, my impulsivity, are to blame and to thank for that.

You all think that I am doing okay,
All thanks to the smile on my face,
But it's been thirty years of this fake ****,
You'd think by now you'd see through it,
But no, 3 decades and I can still put on a show,
Better than an actor, and I don't need all that blow,
I can get by on anything I can find,
And if I don't have anything to scavange on hand,
Well there's always the internet,
Because I will put my life on the line for a fix,
If I'm really in need, and it should scare you,
It should freak me out, but I'm calm here alone,

Don't tell me it'll get better,
That line doesn't get easier,
It doesn't age like fine wine,
Just rots like a coffin full of bones,

Instructing me to take my meds, like that will help?
When it hasn't done **** in the past,
Isn't gonna score you points when I'm looking down the barrel,
Of a gun of my own making,
And yes, I'll still be faking,
That 10 watt smile tomorrow when I see you,
Cause that's just what I ******* do,
Oh, please don't be mad when you find out it's all a lie,
Because honestly you should've been able to find,
The cracks in my mask, they're bigger than China,
And the nightmares in there will seep out and find ya,
After I've had a bottle of wine or tequila or two,
I'll let you know every bad deed I've ever let them do,


Don't tell me it'll get better,
That line doesn't get easier,
It doesn't age like fine wine,
Just rots like a coffin full of bones.