There is a kink in my back in need of a crack
and somewhere a question with an answer I lack
Life's water flows through me but I've lost the cap
So my brain leaks it's juices and forgets to synapse

There is a picture perfect being lingering sometimes
but the string has been cut to disable the blinds
All seen through the window is through scratched glass
I lift up my light source to prove you exist
Love, I have burnt all the wax

There is a light behind your baby blues turned on when I'm up close
and from far away those secret windows seem boarded and closed
If I threw the rocks I wield at them they would crack
expose all the complete products I lack
place me again on a downward track
sicken me

I'll no longer be your after school snack
I'll only be rotten and stuck in tupperware
watching you from the fogged up plastic
my own rotting wheat sending shivers down your spine
far unlike the way you send them down mine

I walk up the stairs in a rather unorthodox way
preferring my step pattern to never stay the same
since for years I dabbled in forever and
always pays
always laughs
always makes the first move
Now,
always late, always last, or at least never first
an unquenchable thirst for connections and friends
and un-sad yet unhappy terms coming to ends
with immune systems weak, we're crumbling in the end
but it's only me bleeding out my ends from a poor ulcered tract
For years they've begged me to put on a smile
and I still find it a struggle to stay in tact

The decision has been made
after digging an early grave
perhaps the feelings will fade
and affections will halt, as I'm no longer brave

It was the alcohol that spoke
puff after puff of smoke
All the words that it had uttered
let your hand, my head, stroke
and oh how I said no
Oh, how I fought it
Respect is something I've tried to learn
it's a lesson though
Who taught it?
Not me
nor will I ever.
be yours?

Baseball game is on
They’re playing the field
Mind is already numb
Lungs suggest I yield
Fortunes give advice
I was never seeking
Picture perfect play
Cigarette smoke leaking
Slowly I am sighing
‘It’s okay,’ she says
Smirking while I’m lying
‘I suppose it will be’
Muster up some courage
Make a desperate call
‘You are not desperate…
just in despair that’s all’
Light another ***
Puff it to the filter
Encourage her to drink
‘I wish you could live here’
Wise beyond my years
Insight She’s never seen
Encourage me to think
Against the rail I lean
‘I see into your head’
I’m blushing, babe
I’m red
I take my turn into tears
She wipes them with her own
‘It’s funny how deeply into
others lives we find ourselves sewn’
I agree and light another
Take another sip
‘If you’re hurting already
don’t do anything to
harm yourself more,’ but
Here we sit
Here we sip
Here we choke back tears
Here we spit
Here we come
To the bed
Bodies numb
Too many words said
Sheets spread
Drool on your pillow case
He said ‘I’m so sorry’
She said
‘It’s a little late.’

I said ‘get the **** over it’
and was almost thrown under again
I lost my footing
It was blunder again
I began to wonder again
What in the world is being strong
What is being individual
when we’re all humming the same ******* song
writing the same ******* tune
We all want to make love to a woman in our rooms
with a nice tongue and good *****
for one night
and then scram
Replace the ‘b’ with a ‘k’ so we can read each others’
and stay with me another night
and then maybe another
I’m not wrong to say I want this bad
I’m not wrong to say I need it
and if it is my blood you want
It’s not wrong to say I’ll bleed it

A smoker
in the winter
depends on that feeling
flowing through
their tar caked lungs
and even though their bodies
quiver
like the baby deer
hunters
leave
alone
to remember only the scent
of their mother’s
blood
they remain in the great
outdoors
and they remain
dependent

An alcoholic
in the winter
depends on the warmth
of the barstool  and
the sting of the thing
that twists and contorts
reality
so maybe they can
breathe easier
and pretend
they have not murdered
with their words
they have not pounded their
fists into the wall
they did not
fire
that
bullet
that killed whatever it is
they are drinking
to forget

At least the latter
can feed
indoors

Every one in this house
is always sleeping soundly
at this hour
but me

I shovel drugs and drinks
inside my now dry mouth
and they poke at my brain
who says
“spit it all out”

I close my eyes and mimic
the dark and the quiet
at this hour
but I

Can suddenly hear a party
that exists five cities over
and the people
they’re real
but they sound
like a radio
and I open my eyes
and the party is over
and the static is gone

Then I start to hum a song
to soothe my mind with
a familiar sound
something real
controllable

Everyone in this house
is always sleeping soundly
at this hour
but me

By now I’m out
of drugs and drinks
and I’m left with
thoughts and thinks
and I hear footsteps