turning twenty once with grace
shoveling teen years out of space
tears slipping down my face
ive never been so unsure of my place

drunk and crying alone
family’s in home
did i make you cry
i’ll always wonder why
tho i told you to disown
you still pick up the phone

lights pass through windows lit by broken bulbs and held by failing foam
moving at miles per whoever knows trying to get home
underground where you can’t hear the rain know the sun shines even on a darkened train
come up from the tunnels where light only flashes in funnels

i can’t say i miss the heat
never really been one to sweat and forget
i just miss the beat
ac’s broke and life’s joke let the breeze in
swelter summer sun burn kisses into brown skin

on the way i say
   oh see i spy with my little eye
   a cure for what’s eating me
once more gone back
    same billboard in tact you see
    what is a cure for ptsd

oh what a beautiful time to be dead it is
to walk amongst the theatrics of absurdity
to deep inhale four counts for nothing
when none of your bloods still pumping.
     oh, please!
start my stilled heart before my brain fa
                                                                    lls apart.
i can’t help but think what a lovely night it is
to lay here inside a body just coffin-sized
to exhale eight beats before you’ve forgotten
what a beautiful time it is to be rotten.
      so please
take my brain ap
                             art before they start my heart.

oh brother, holy mother
take my hand and bring it asunder
hold me after morning light
take in shoulders, make me smother
choke me deep into the night