My jeans between the sheets
Feel like strangers on my legs.
All six of my dollars,
Wadded and shoved in the front pockets,
Smell like last night's soiree.

I get up,
It's 2 pm,
And glare at my half-naked body
In the blurry mirror.
I like myself when I don't eat,
But I swallow a handful of cereal from their kitchen
For Mom.

I can still taste the cigs that he hates,
And old beer is sticky between my fingers.
I can't remember getting this bruise
Or this one. Or this one.
I bruise like a peach.

I do remember sloppy kisses
With my roommate,
How her lips were softer than mine
And I remember feeling full
Of love and of *****.

I am happy.

Kiss me like if this night was the last night.

Night, last night you could see beyond my eyes.

Eyes, beyond my eyes there is this lonely girl.

Girl, lonely girl wondering who could listen to her.

Kiss her thru this last night beyond her eyes.

           Lonely girl just listen to her.

We stand on tonight
with adrenaline running
in our veins
   Taking pictures,
   videos
capturing every moment
   to make sure we don't
forget this.
   Because we take tabs of
acid outside McDonald's
and venture to some park.

The trees become the air
and my skin is liquid
vibrating through your
bones.
   Playgrounds and swing sets
become home.
   Truth or dare's muttered
from closed lips.

And then it's him.
With his nicknames for
everything. I am his
crazy little girl.
   That alone "I am his"
   has my stomach tumbling
   like tumble ****.
I find him at a gas
station.
Then I find myself
in his van and
we're on a road
trip to the edge of
the world.

We are as fluid as
the blood in my veins
   walking through the
   gate to sins. *****
   is in my hand.
"**** it" whispered in my
   ear
and trust me. I chugged the *****.
  Like water,
    But they said they
    had sympathy burns
    in their chest.

We lit the world on fire.
   Called it a challenge.
Begged the world to be
as stupid as us to light
our hands on fire.
  Trying to touch
     the end before
we're really there.

We stood on the night
opening cans with our
teeth.
  Whiskey on our taste
  buds.

She held my hand and I
could feel her insides shiver.
   My veins were on fire
   and I could feel them
   twist around each other
   like grapevines trying to
   help me grow into
   something better.

We stood on top of last
night.
Had it on the ground
in a choke hold.
Sat on it's back
  Pulling it's hair.
The ground was ours
to walk on and I
swear I was real.

I was in my skin
and saw through my eyes.
I felt my own flesh
burn.
    And I promise you
    I breathed air through
    my own lungs.
    I touched everyone
    with my own finger
    tips.

People were art
   and I was a
   deaf student
   with eyesight as
   a feast.
Your personalities are
   entrees and all I want
   is to have a taste.

   You are all books.
   And I have had
   thirst for your words
   since birth.

Tonight is the end
of my world.
And I will make
peace with loose ends.
  But I promise you
  there will be more
  threads than when
I started this quest.

But my insides run with
liquids I don't understand.
Bittersweet honey runs from
my eyes when I cry.
    My sweat is
    sickeningly salty
and my blood does not
run red. It is sugar
tore from a cinnamon
bun between your teeth.

Tonight I am inside my
head and I am
   real.
   Let me discover
what my brain whispers
in the dark when
I'm alone.

How do my knees quake
   when I'm scared?

You say you love
   me so well.

What do you love?
Because it's a road
trip to the edge of
the world.

I have grown into my skin
and I don't think you
know what I feel like full.
I have been empty and
gone.

But tonight I'm here.

I stand on tonight
   and I am here.
I am alive.
  and I am your crazy
   little girl.

Gun pointed to my head
Is it time to die or just time for bed
The barrel gives me goodnight kisses and the alcohol is a bed time story
Every night doing inventory in my mind wondering if I should do it
If most people saw this they'd shudder in fear
But I'm not worried
I want this I pray for this
If I finish my story tonight would anyone cry why won't you be mine how do you really feel inside
tick tock goes the clock and ring it has struck 12
The day has begun
I throw the gun to the floor
Another night gone another day come
leaving me here longer to rot in a burning world

last night  i had a dream about you
thank god it wasn't true
she and i were fighting just us two over you
i was sure to be winning
she had her faced smashed in
her eyes had my fingers digged in
yet she was still the one to win
crazy how my heart felt, full of hate and resent.. thank god this wasn't true
what happened next was the one for the true win to your soul
she and you had texts back and forth
never had words put me in such feels, in such tears with fear
you told her you loved her
that's something you never told me
that's something i always wished to me you told
something i always hoped for

whats worse is waking up to knowing you're still gone and still no longer mine
why'd you have to go? guess it just wasn't our time
whats worse is you walking away without even saying goodbye
hard looking back and knowing you were once my lullaby

these memories still hurt still sting looking back
reminiscing on the day you said you'd catch me if i fall, guess you let me slip through the crack
now you got me here wondering if everything was my fault
can't believe i wrote you poem after poem showing you my love
i even wrote bout how you taught me how to love, just wish i knew then that it was all false
now all i have is a lesson lived, lesson learned
i know now to never love and to never fall.

To find something that was not there before,
To stare at a telephone that will not ring,
With a tiredness of the eyes and a taint of the heart.
To notice that sometimes words are not enough.

To follow the dances of strange fingerprints,
To terrorize the etchings on the skin,
To burn last nights cigarettes into the lips.
To distract the longing of the heart.

To know a moment in many different ways,
To understand that it could not exist,
To wonder if it was ever there at all.
To find a sincerity in delusion.

To understand the power moonbeams,
How they mar the bones, in their fictions,
To know the subtle parallels of love and hate,

How they act as partners in crime.

To the devastating follies that transpired in the night.
So hauntingly lovely.
That one may not mind carrying them,
Like sad love letters, clinging to the loneliness of secret places.


It's the type of sadness you don’t really mind noticing.
-


*"I wish I could kiss you all night."
"Maybe you just might."