I’ve been chewing the asphalt for the past seventeen years
and I can taste every abandoned household
burnt rubber and misogyny
highways make it impossible for roadside conversation
accidents aren’t really accidents
so just know the scars on her arms aren’t from her cat
and alcohol is good at creating new problems
they never tell you in textbooks
that heartbreak hurts a lot more than scraped knees
and that a good bye is never actually a good bye
unless one of you is dead
whether in the grocery store
or on the side of a street,
the next time you see them
you will be reminded why the waves
continue to reach back for the shore
but also why you can never hold water
in your palms for longer than a few moments.

She kissed that barrel of a gun harder than she's ever kissed me.

I've been stuck in this demonic haze
of a drug addicts dream
I've been living the same nightmare for the
past 17 years and my bones
can't stop creaking
like the door you stormed out of
I've been choking on your name
ever since I first heard it
and my trachea continues to tighten
why would you hold my neck tighter
than my hand
you are the back alley robbery
i can not get enough of
I just want to drown in your ecstasy
until i find my very pores
rushing to the sound of your voice.

There aren’t enough stars in the nights sky
to pin each reason for the writing of this
whether its because im stuck in the city
of the stars themselves are twinkling in this bottle of
forgetful recollections
there is no apology after a gunshot
just a ringing
like a telephone call from a place where nothing is heard
no funeral service for the kid thats been walking around in his casket
for the past seventeen years
there are too many paper cuts on my thumbs
whether from love letters or suicide notes,
schrodinger's cat is here to torment us all
I wish an apology was in order
but this was meaning to be written since the first time
I smiled
and felt a crack in the lining of my heart
you dont need to tell me about how my heart feels like
abandoned roadways
that people refuse to drive upon
friendships capsized like the titanic
but there is no piece of wood for me to hold onto
just my own self loathing pulling down my ankles

I've tasted you at the bottom of bar glasses
your 'i love yous' reek of cheap scotch
and i am a recovering alcoholic
i refuse to taste the disappointment of your fingertips
you're still swallowing the night that the gun refused to fire
and I swear I can still hear the gun shot ringing in my ears
i wonder if I tied my own self loathing to my ankles if I would still be able to swim
in the ocean that is your love
or what was
There aren't enough narcotics to help me forget about your laugh
911 operators recited your suicide note to me
and I've heard my name enough times to want to drain my body
the bags under my eyes spell out
remorseful
and the tears on your grave aren't mine
but just know im coming home to you

You wonder if she realized how poisonous her palms were
because when cupping your waist
you could feel your heart sitting in your stomach
and every inch of skin she traced seemed to recede into your flesh
There is no cliche
in drunken stammers and 3 am phone calls
where you sob and ***** out your feelings to her voicemail
how you soon learn to recite her quirky voicemail
she refuses to respond
you refuse to look at yourself
every mirror in your house is broken
and your knuckles are ******
but you can't feel them because your chest
is playing hopscotch on a minefield
you soon learn there is no "we" in future
but there are two "u's" there to remind you they'll move on
while you're stuck in the same place
sobriety now becomes a tell tale fable you spew onto your mothers feet
you write suicide notes like they're journal entries
and swallow liqueur like water
you soon learn reality is worse than the nightmares you face each night
every anxiety attack cripples you
tell me how your bathroom floor has been there more for you
than your own best friend
tell me you scribbled her name onto your razor blades
and think of every cut and slash as a kiss from her
you have a cigarette between your fingers at doctors offices
and funerals
tell me how feel so at home
at a funeral
tell me how you've gone window shopping for caskets
and your tears now taste like her favorite alcohol
she refuses to pay you any attention
so with scraped knees
a sore heart
and arms looking like google maps
tell me about how the time you saw her smile
and you knew she'd be the death of you
tell her to write your suicide note for you
because you're too impatient to wait any longer
tell a room full of your closest relatives and friends
you don't want your life anymore
tell yourself it was worth it

I’m tired of hearing a ******* metaphor
everywhere I go
Love refuses to be beautiful and classy
she is a seductive ***** in the bathroom
of a doctors office
Happiness does not come in the form of a jar
or a boy
or a girl
happiness is the day when the breeze reminds you of your favorite song
and I don’t even like that song
but I am helplessly in love with you and refuse to believe
that you are incapable of anything better than greatness
so I refuse to stutter or hesitate when saying I love you
because ******* if the breeze speaks louder than me
I wouldn't be surprised if you get up and leave with it
Like I said
Love is a backwash of ******* and codeine
so this voluptuous strut
is more of a drunken slump with a dragging limp
there is nothing beautiful about heartbreak
so put down your ******* cigarettes