**** all the things I've ever known,
Whether here or at home.
In all this world I've never seen,
Oh what to trade for a spirits gleam.
The smooth rich taste that takes the world away,
Dark or light.
Doesn't matter,
To each their way.
But here one regresses in life's scheme,
All for just a taste of liquors forgetting drink.

I woke up in the afternoon
Missed myself the morning train
It's the second one that I've missed
Since I tried to get going around 6am

I can't keep my eyes from tearing
My hands from doing their not-so-cool shakes
I reach into my pockets for something
That just feels a little bit like yesterday

I can hear the whistle blowing
From outside my apartment door
I believe for the first time
Maybe I should drive to work

We missed each other's calls from last night
I counted the minutes that passed,
I drank myself a thirty-three year old brandy
I stole from my parent's liquor cabinet.

The 10:00am buzz to get me right
Started for, is it Saturday?
I don't drink but to remember
I drink to remember the pain.

A .44 at close range
My heart skips with great excite,
The bullet-proof vest I wear when I'm shot
May barely not save my life.

I've grown tired off waiting for the beach
I swim with sharks blacked out in the dark
Playing dares with Sarah Marie.
Until the wild Pacific digs its first row of teeth into me.

Why is it that I go to sleep feeling lonely
But wake up to one hundred texts
People don't want me during the day time
But in the night I'm apparently a godsend

The 2 A.M. "what're you up to"?
Surely I know what that means
What you really want to know
Is if I'll satisfy your needs

When you're just a pretty face
No one cares what's on the inside
I'm the girl whom your mind jumps to
When all you want is a good time

I may not be everyone's cup of tea
But surely I'm their ninth shot of liquor
Brought up over drunken conversation
You all say "yeah, I'd stick her"

It doesn't matter what I say
It's not as if I have a choice
In this world of simple pleasures
I'm viewed as a body without a voice

Ellie. My name is Ellie.
I want to be a writer. I want to be a star. I want to be free.
I imagine myself riding on wide open roads,
on the back of a motorcycle with a boy
who is as much of a ghost as he is a person.
I imagine myself dazed in rooms
filled with a purple glow.
I imagine pills, lust, liquor, leather.
I want to live forever
and I want to die young.
My name is Ellie.
I don’t know what home means;
I don’t want to.
I need people to love me.
I will break all of their hearts.
I imagine late nights in underground clubs…
Marlboro, rock & roll, Howl by Allen Ginsberg–the bible.
Tanqueray;
falling down in a graveyard muttering in Romanian,
hoping for salvation,
but while I’m called an angel night after night
I’ve got the devil in me.
Rosewater runs through my veins,
the blood has already been spilt.
I won’t ever belong to anyone, not even myself.
When you have the knowledge that nothing’s real
it’s hard to do what’s expected of you.
I relate to flowers a lot.
They’re beautiful, but they don’t last.
Sometimes no matter how hard you try to take care of them,
they just run out of life.
I think I ran out of life the day I was born.
Everything is nothing.
The gods don’t want you to know that,
but that is the one truth.

Animals in Antarctica
All drinking liquor
Ice on the flow of water
Some snow there as well
Zounds of baby walrus shrimp
The have big beards, they are so weird
The baby walrus shrimp!


William James

it stares at me confused
deep ink fills my soul and i'm getting darker and darker
i want to hold on to the rope but
the well holds the wishes of tarnished love
drink more and carry me over to the edge
deep ink fills my soul and i'm getting darker and darker
one more drink from sober eyes
i wanna see straight into your black, ugly eyes
and yell
i love you
i hate you
give me more black liquor.

I met a new man
he left a run in the seam
of my knee highs

he's a good guy
keeps me warm and cozy inside
he thinks it's cute when I'm mad

he's tall, dark, and handsome!
I've even given him the house key
I call him Jim, others call him whiskey.

It was when I realized that I would never be able to intoxicate you with myself, that the glass broke.
When I found out that I would never be able to replace the toxics that you like flowing oh so lovingly down your gentle throat.
That I would never be able to addict you to the drugs that I claim to be, as that is not in my hands.
That I would never be able to explore your mouth, while soothingly dripping down from your lips while you let me play with your tongue.
That I would never be able to accomplish what a glass of ***** could.
Oh, how much do I ache to be that.
A weakness.
The one you visit in your need for courage.
In your times of sorrow and happiness.
A constant. A liability.
Something you just can't resist.
Someone to make your cold soul feel intimidated.
Because honey, wouldn't it be something to be the one to make your insides burn?
**- Aks, Naked Emotions

Two thousand four hundred and fifty five days
spent floating the vacuum of space.

My lungs ache with misplaced distaste
for the beautiful sights surrounding me.

I used to add them all up in romantic displays
but my math of late just ain't what it used to be.

Obtuse angles of obtrusive angels portray
ninety degrees of too little, too late.