Don't think I'll go on, but I can
my mother is kicking me out
and I've never had a plan.
Fizzled out with your opening
crushed like a soda pop can
so insecure, pushed you away
because you know just who I am.

On such a breathless downward spiral
and I think I'll stay here a while.
baggy shirts and sunken eyes
has become my style.
I'm a muddled, mangy mess, no surprise
I think I'll just stay a child
be soft in my stride
for just a little while
until I learn to get by.

Your lips whispered a curse
and brushed against mine.
Soft, like sparrows' wings,
inebriating as wine.
I know I am lost now,
wandering so many city streets
wondering if you'd find me here
and take me off bare feet.
I am calloused, I've become raw.
How can you, so far away
remember me at all?
The street lights are turning on now
it will soon be dark.
Tell me how
to live without a heart.

I’m rocking back and forth against the hull of my loneliness,
Stuck in knowing it’s goodbye
But not being able to say I love you
or I’m sorry.
I’m crying with joy and longing as I lie in the love and conversation around me,
Wishing it were mine.
I’ve been high so long my heart rate stopped going down with the sun.
Going over it all all over again all the time.
I feel like a child again, terrified by the the dark, the wind, the eyes of men.
I’m breaking down in the line at the gas station.
Looking out the glass wall at a Lovecraftian highway,
Flickering florescent lights like the ones from The Exorcist.
On my way to a cavernous husk of a family dinner,
Most of them gone now.
Just me, my mother, and my widowed, bereaved, great aunt.
There’s a stupid old cardboard cutout of a mascot next to me grinning too widely, holding up its product.
I scream and tear it’s head off it’s body
In my mind.
I have work on Monday.
This is life.

I look at the sky and everything is clear
I turn to the sun
and am forced to remember
I am human

Squinting and scrunched
the tranquility is gone
My eyes pinch my mind
and again
These days become long

Sitting here, waiting
Which is basically the equivalent
Of grating
My forehead
Against a cheese grater.
For seconds minutes hours.
Soon, there'll be nothing left,
I'll be an empty shell of myself.
My bored tired pieces scattered all across the floors
As I wait
and wait
and wait
For something that I really should've ignored.

Two sickly birds,
In their nest of salt,
And it's not their fault.
What do they know?

nobody will ever be good enough for you,
will they?



well,
I'll never be,
will I?