my arms remember razor blades and spiked needles
and my veins ache to feel the warmth of her
swimming perfectly through my bloodstream
and engulfing my every fear, my every desire
until i am nothing but a pool of sticky tar

my nostrils burn without the powder
flying into my brain, and dripping down my throat
keeping me awake for days on end
and opening up my mind for my pen
shaking as i hold it to the paper; scribble

my tongue dwells on the bitter taste of hallucinogens
that made me dance in the coldest rain
and swim in the smallest pools of warm blood
that erupted from the belly of an orange tiger
who held my hand, and danced to the beats

my stomach remembers the feeling of pill bottles
emptied out; the tablets dissolved
coaxing me into warm slumbers, and forgetfulness
i miss the feeling of letting go
of love, of pain, of regret

suicide,
a silent regret;
freedom

some nights,
i answer the phone
in my sleep

some mornings,
i wake up
with no memory

do not stop at one-ten pounds-
drop down to eighty

do not stop with the first cut vein-
slice until your heart stops

do not stop with one gram-
shoot two more into your veins

do not stop with the noose-
jump with it around your neck

your words do not stop hurting-
i am trying to finish the job

tell me that my poetry is horrible
until i stop slicing myself open
and bleeding words out

tell me that i couldn't write my way
out of a brown paper bag
like the ones you packed in second grade

tell me that my writing is sad
and i'll give a little smile,
and walk away

tell me that you love my poetry,
and i just might
fall for you

Kaleidoscope raindrops fill in low eyes,
and blotter tab lunatics jump up high-
Alice is missing! Chesire's loose!
The Jabberwock is drinking a burning juice
The ceiling's melting, and the clock's been moved;
Hey White Rabbit, you're gonna get bruised.
We need order in our not-so-sober minds,
Oh, Mad Hatter! Could you be so kind?
Have you seen the Caterpillar yet?
Where is he- can you bet?
I'm willing to gamble; that's not tobacco in his pipe-
Let it be known; he's high as a kite!
Alice, oh Alice...
What have you done?

there are
six-hundred ways
to get ****** up
and i am stuck
and conflicted
and sober

once you get that high,
there is no where to go
but down...
       down...
       down...

in weight
in grades
in friends
in money
in days

but you don't care
(unless you're sober)
so you stay
******
until you're forced to stop
                                or
                                until
                                you
                                are
                                                                     dead.