everything is meaningless and i
mean it. there's no point to this
there's no point to me there's no
point in existing other than to
breathe and love and make sense
of why we're here and
i'm sick of people telling me that the smart ones
are the sad ones
because i'm not smart,
i'm sick.
i'm vomiting up all the
feelings that are so overused
and overexaggerated that i cannot
tell what is normal or not
until someone informs me
that daydreaming
of slashing wrists and leaking
red when i
drop a glass of water
isn't normal. i used
to think everyone was
this way and i used to
think there'd be some
cure
to this, some magic pill
filled with stardust
and a tendency for
chemical codependency
that would make
me stop throwing up
all the feelings
bottled in the pit of
my stomach. (the
magic pill made me throw up,
just not the bad things. only
the good ones.) and
i can't stop thinking about
how everything is meaningless
and we are all here
and they are all there
and no one will ever
know one another completely
and that's not okay with me.
it's not.

authentic ***** sneaks in
   notebooks hidden

He is
No longer
A person
To me

As I sit here
And watch him
*****
Onto the floor

And it looks like
Alphabet soup...
But
Maybe it's just soup, or
Just Alphabet...
As he begins speaking
1, 2, 3s.  

And I have cried before,
For him. but
Now that I sit,
Eyes on his back,
Unspeaking
And still
.
.
.

I frankly hope he
Chokes.

Actions don't dictate my behavior
let me latch onto the next bottle
sitting across my vision
settled, calm

Let me drink and word *****
on your shoes
leaving a stench that will remind
you of the hazy days
spent, boozed up

Let me smoke till my lungs
beg for a molecule of oxygen
to freshen it's dank corners

Let me wobble on the sidewalk
reminding my feet which one goes first
let me sway, cursing whatever
injected my heart with a dose
of forbidden feelings

Leave my vision of tomorrow
the same, swallow the the changes
like an unwanted gag
drown it with that burning liquid

Let me be, as if the next encounter
is just seconds away
let me
be

my head hurts like cotton candy breath of a unicorn, beneath the rainbow in food poisoning glitter. we all talk like neighborhood fantasy, green grass and red tulips on the way to our houses, we can show our teeth to each other. let a pause take its time when sunday comes the day comes in blessings. do not fear for i am with you, forgive them for they know not what they do. mother, behold, your child. child, here is your mother. can you not? go find death before you die, conversations do not equal exchanging words, they all have to do with childhood dreams and granted wishes. which are nothing. look at my feet, they are the one closest to cinderella's only that i have calves like a horse and thighs like pumpkins. my biggest regret would be a decision if i decided to put on the label miracle, despite the raging womb of mother blows a fetus out of question. all motherhood is the same, only that i was born from a waning moon. be proud of your daughters, in a worst case scenario they probably take after you.

Live, Love, Laugh.
I *****.
Please spare me. I am begging.
But it is too late.
I get more of these quotes shoved down my throat.
I ***** once more.

Dripping peach juice down our chins,
chasing each other in the fiery sunset.

Veins popping out of your arms
begging something I couldn't quite make out....

You would draw me.
Charcoal.
My body blown up on the big screen,
my curves soft like the smoke you were blowing out of your mouth.

The ***** videos,
followed by the sweet ones,
the ones with the sun in my hair,
our laughter electric as we fell down the rabbit hole.

The spray paint we dropped on the roof
as we ran from the sirens in the distance.

Electric, electric, you are my electricity.
No one can catch us if we float on air.

You said
"will you be my girl, will you be bad for me?"
And I slid down the slide, my legs scraping the mulch.
"For you babe. And you only."

The curve of your spine against my arm.
The freckles on your back,
the fine hairs on your neck pressing into my lips.
The warmth.
The light coming through the blinds,
your face illuminated.

You throwing up under the streetlights,
windows fogged, sleepy eyes saying:
cmon love lets just make it home.
Everything is gonna be okay, the police are gone..
Cut your losses, let's make it home.

Christmas trees in bay windows,
we watched them jingle.

I would leave love letters under your pillow,
in your car, whisper them to you as you drove.

Magic.
You're a magic man.

And in your boxes- your hidden treasures..
I would stare at them until you set me under another spell..

Your dark hair wrapped up in my fingers..
Another sunset.

Asleep in the back of your jeep,
in the middle of the woods,
river water burning my throat.
Listening to you *****-
always vomiting,
always kissing.

Peach juice dripping.