These days I long for
the times we drank for hours
getting dolled to the nines
in between shots and dance
moves. Weaving our way
in and around bodies
dark and in shadows,
prowling. We were the big
cats, the ones they keep
in cages for tourists to gawk at.
The ones they fling whole
carcasses towards, to be devoured.
Soul searching eyes and manes
longer than the Nile. Stopping
grown men in their paths with
a single glance. I dream of
the nights we could have talked
our way out of cop cars and into
furry handcuffs with a twist
of the tongue. We would twirl
boys around like tops, wrapped
in dorm room sheets. Winking
and taking them out in the morning
like black bags of trash, one after
the other. Blowing smoke out
our windows and giggling, our
own secret language. Setting fire
to our own bridges and dousing
the flames in tears and liqour.
We were the biggest game,
hunters being hunted, dying
to be laid out like skinned rugs
and ravaged like last meals.
In the end, like lazy zoo lions
we were left with nothing but
the shadows of the Queens
of the Jungle we used to be.
Licking our wounds
and cleaning our paws
in the sunlight as the world
goes on without us.

Brain racing, wors falling (or is it flowing?). *******.
Hand writing (righting?) the wrongs I've made.
Pen (pin?) scratching words on flesh that doesn't seem to feel.

Dog scratching (stretching?) after fleeing (fleaing?).
I don't know (care?) where it (I?) went wrong.
We loved (love?) each other.

We moved away (apart?) but not on.
When will (can?) it end?
It won't. It won't. It won't.

This doesn't end, this love (lust? loss?) we share.
We lay (lie?) alone together, apart together, in sin together.
In awe together.

Do you think (obsess?) about me?
This love is real (real?)
Cantstopwontstop. Why?

The throbbing headache and nausea
I can endure; I've had worse.
Right now I could cry,
such a raw hope consumed me
as I thought about you, desperate.
It was still dark for me then,
when I needed you. Now it's day.
It brings a true smirk to my face
to know you are nothing more
than a night of binge drinking:
a foolish part of my youth,
a consequence of boredom.
I could not hold your liquor,
I vomited all that bile you said to me
in the hedges outside. Don't fret,
this is not a bad memory, in fact
you might never be a memory at all.
I am well. I will drink better and
far more dangerous poisons.
I am today, you are only last night.

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

I hardly have my eyes
open while I'm driving
anymore.
I will not swerve,

baby, I swear,
I will serve you.

I need you
at the day's end,
pull back the
pavement for you.

Goin' down

tail end.

Not a statement
concerning you.

*You said you like to make love in the dark 'cause it's a lost art and you told me to calm down, to relax, you told me that it's okay to explain things the same way 'cause being too original used to get you killed, and you fed me jazz and you licked my lips,
you drew two hearts, one on my car, and one on my hip.

My friend died last night,
his mother said,  
so you should probably stop smoking.
But he was more concerned with giving
away his dog and shooting himself in the face.
 
Blowing raspberries didn’t stop
the advancing train that left bruises
on either of her shoulders,
or left her compacted
and hung-over the next morning.
 
And she was screaming like a banshee
trapped inside a locket,
when he finally bent her over
and said You are beautiful,
do not let anyone ever tell you any different.
 
She might have lost the polish
from driving a stick shift for an hour
or chewing them, worried about
deer leaping into windshields,
but that is why lesbians don’t paint their nails.
 
So when he finally slammed her foot
into the side of his dresser,
all she could do was lay there
and bite, losing more of her sheen
into the divots she dug in the skin on his back.

We used to stay up
and watch the sun play peekaboo
with the skyline
and sit in the street
at 4 AM discussing everything
and nothing.
Breaking other peoples showers
in the night
and making love on their mother's
Dining room tables.

Now I resort to ep's and
YouTube videos, just
to remember the sound of your voice
or how your fingers move while you
strum your acoustic and massacre
your drums.

You have made my stomach tense with laughter
and my eyes rain
and you have made me love.

But this will be my last
Poem for you.
My last ode, my last confession.
There will be no more soft sweet syllables
or angry goodbye lines.
There will be no more heartfelt repetition
or cheesy, sing song rhymes.

We have lied
and we have cheated
making Misery moan with pleasure.
We have martyred it,
buried it,
and given the eulogy.

We used to climb to roof tops
and watch the lights dance
across our city.
We used to know each other.

I wish I was your little
whiskey girl and you
were pouring yourself
into my bottle to come
drink me up.

But you drained me
dryer than the Savannah.
Now men build boats
inside me, and I haven't
a corkscrew to get out.

I wish I was your little
*** doll and you were
dizzy over me, slurring
I love you's and burning
with me in your throat.

But you don't drink
expensive liquor anymore
not since you spent your money
on losing lottery tickets
and vinyl.

I'm top shelf
but that is only because
you put me there
to forget about me.
And now you drown
yourself in wells,
blacking out
the parts of you
that loved me.