my favorite movie
clueless
my favorite song
nocturne
and you would never see them through
and so you would never know me.

tonight I asked you
when you last saw me sober
and you couldn't give me an answer.

tonight, I told you
just how many bottles
of *** I go through
in a week.

that night that I cried
over you
is a continent and a month away
but it existed.

I listen to nocturne
and blues.
and I could've spent this night
alone on your sofa.
but instead I spend it alone
on my floor
because here
I play Chopin
for myself
and not for you.

your body, the drain plug,
that climactic days of a day
murky sweet strawberry milk water
ebbs and sways
around, surrounds, and surmounts you

Your body the dumping ground
for pretty poppy seeds
seep, steep
seeded somewhere deep

as

synthetic stinging metaphor rain
pours on your mistreated singing skin
spotted, dotted, synaptic rule
akin to lemon poppy seed muffin tops
your head- a top
spins round
and mimics
never-ending bath drain whirlpool

ambulances and ambivalences soundtrack
this nocturne
night of a morning
mourning already
my poor lost sister
a little less than intact
lost in her head
I'm loosing her

and she's nodding

            and she's nodding

                          and she's nodding

                                    and she's nodding
and she nods
and grumbles,
fumbles for words that aren't there
four words that aren't there
forward isn't there

because what do you say
about matters
when your high
and breathing last breaths overlapping
in humble showers
in heart crumbling nakedness
your faithlessness trapping
murky sweet strawberry milk waters.

When I am seventeen I go a bit insane and I discover that the whole world is connected to me by strings and I don’t know if I control them or if they control me but I do know that I feel very enlightened and aware when I have not eaten for five days and I drink two pots of coffee a day to stay awake because the nights are still whispering all their darkest secrets and I know that there is a grid of cosmic light keeping everything in tact but why? I see God in the golden dust that exists within each and every one of us and it makes me want to tear out my hair and scream at the top of my lungs when you tell me you can’t find salvation, just look at yourself, look inward, look back, look ahead, look anywhere