scandalously obscene
a man whispers to his androgynous girlfriend
they speak of his wife and her poor taste and her pain
and I hear your secrets and I record each word that you speak
because nothing can hold you responsible
I hold no judgement for the frequencies which I cannot understand
I do feel a pain regarding human beings and alcohol consumption

the intoxicating forces which work effortlessly
in the gleaming of a starry sky which never turned black
into the strange shadows of yesterday
I heard a poem in which a mans paranoia was a part
of my own intentions and he became very uncomfortable
and the trans bartender steps to the plate
I am amazed by peoples ability to express such murmuring
******* all for the waste you carry
empty my love
empty my heart I''ll be filled again.

where my mind should be,

animals locked up in cages
waiting to be let out so they too
can play.

the sea, the rain and the stars,
they must feel this way too-

tangled with desire
and always the beloved,
never able to give it back
in quite the same way it's received.

Maybe,
we’ve been ignoring all
the red flags.

Let them pass us by,
roll your eyes at morality
and let their manipulation
chip away at personality.

Comfort let me believe
four years of knowing me
meant that you knew
what’s better
than me.

I guess it’s just that
I never felt like
I was settling,
for anything.

Because settling
would have meant

down,

and babe,
to me,

you’re on the highest
of pedestals.

But,
I’m slowly learning
how to get you
back on the ground.

She is a Thursday evening;
the cake before the baking.

She is a run and a jump,
or the extra squeeze
at the end of a hug.

She is the last glass of red wine,
when you’re already a little drunk.

She is the letter you wrote,
but won’t ever send.

She is skipping down the center lane,
of every place you’ve even been.

A fickle friend,
for your mind to chase.

The girl in the song,
who just wants to have fun.

She loves you,
she loves you not.

The one who got away,
or the one to get away from.

Pancakes
and french toast.

She had a sweet tooth
for mornings
laying flat
on her back.

Just like yours,
cotton wrinkles
indented on
freckles.

Saliva soaked
collarbones,
last nights
tequila
on your tongue.

He’d roll you over,
breakfast taco.
Kiss your neck,
turn it purple.

Smirk covered coffee,
smoke lingering
'round
chocolate covered
sleepy eyes.

All you've ever known,
simple sweets
and bacon grease;
she kept you
on your'
toes.

"I'll be back for the summer,"
and he'll pretend
you’re more
than just a morning
of goodbyes.

Sometimes,
all the shadows
come at once
and every touch
you ever gave me,
feels like knives
gently slicing
my melting body.

Your hair texture,
imprinted on the insides
of my hands,
no matter how hard
I wash them.

And your scent,
imbedded in my
skin
so deep,
I get nauseous
just being around
me.

You held me there,
beneath your thick-skinned, heavy-hand
wrapped tightly round the frames
of my feeble heart strings.

You pushed all your fears
of my absence
into a weight I placed
deep beneath my ribcage.

Hollow and heavy,
I begged to be
the lucky one.

Recollected and spoon fed,
it took me a moment,
to see that the hand I clung to
so desperately,
was the same
that gave my demons all their energy.

And I suppose I was hypnotized,
by the way you could kiss doubt
into the back of my neck,
and call it something else.

But one day I fell asleep,
all alone
and woke to see
somewhere in my sleepwalk,
I had crawled out from underneath.
Just to find you,

far away

but still,
looking back at me.

I was dancing on a coffee table
last night and I was so happy
I almost started crying
tears of tequila and realization,
that I am more than enough
for me.

My hair spinning to the beat
and my skirt catching
in the breeze.

I’ve been overplaying
the same Drake songs,
thinking he wrote those lyrics
all for me.

And it’s crazy that I might let
you believe you have ever
had any hold over me.