I want to be a hippie but my
mum says no, she says i smell to clean  
an short hair as a hippie just doesnt go.
  
I want to be a hippie but my dad
says no as the only drug i take is
asprin and son asprin is a drug a
hippie just cant smoke.
  
A hippie loves peace and the thought
of love, you build war machines so death
isnt for hippies and you think
love is a joke.
  
So my son you dont drink you
dont smoke or do any kind of drug, you
have short hair so a hippie you'll
never be so no means no.

I belong to you -
your body gleaming
white under the
unforgiving moon -
we can hack the
silver out of the
sky, swallow
stars like Asprin -
each circle of
relief bringing
me back to
you, folded into
the corners of
your mind -
whispering to me
that you are
still alive

An open letter to those who have dealt or tried or whichever with me during my depression and/or anxiety.

I wish I could stop. I hear that a lot. "Just stop." As if it were a switch I can turn on and off at my own will. If I could, I would've disabled that switch the minute I learned what the on was designed to do. If only I could stop if only I could

"Think positive" I hear that the most. I didn't think of that, nor did the twenty something people before you. As if I haven't dived into the deep end of positive affirmations for the riptide of negativity to pull me 20 times under. For every positive thought, my brain's defense brings up 20 reasons that the positivity isn't real or won't last, or my favorite, why do you even deserve to be positive.

I don't forget all the times you've said "people have it so much worse." I am so ungrateful for the roof over my head and the food I get to eat or the daily drinks I use to muffle the voices inside. I hate the privilege of having my friends and loved ones look at me through foggy lenses and lend me their advice. It comes from the bottom of your heart but it doesn't come from experience.

Oh and how can I forget how I'm acting like this out of attention. I promise if I wanted the attention, I would get it in a manner much more humorous instead of a pitiful pit stop of a parade I feel some of you think I am. I am not trying to guilt you or appeal to your pathos. I much prefer to evoke your happiness with jokes that mask the constant desire to not even exist.

Then it comes down to the people I've bared my mascara streamed, tear soaked, bare souled self to. I'm talking to you. The one who I know won't understand but I at least expect to be there. Because I know that when you only deal with it once a month it isn't a problem, take some asprin and put a ****** in and it's over before you know it. God forbid this curse drowns me for a week or two or three. I'm sorry to put a damper on your life. The one where you chant the positives and get on with it. You have the choice to leave. I don't.

I don't surrender to this illness. "I'm not a vicitm" I repeat constantly. I'm not trying to make up excuses as to why it's okay to act like this. I fight every day for a little breathing space, and sometimes I am consistently losing battles in this civil war for my own mind. I apologize that you bear the burdens of being on the front row sidelines of this imax screening of my life.

You see, when the anxiety is over, and the food I haven't eaten for a week is molded now, depression takes stage. Right on cue. A constant back to back showing for boys and girls, it's fun for the whole family. But even like the longest movies of our life, there are intermissions. I sometimes get to step outside the theatre and am reminded that it's still sunny outside, that there is a fresh breeze. I can hear my own thoughts for a moment and they aren't trying to **** me. I am reminded that I have people I love and who love me, despite every reason I have that they don't. I hold onto that feeling and submerge myself so when the next riptide pulls me under, I can somehow find myself at the surface.

Sometimes I resurface with new or stronger allies, and sometimes I lose them in the battle. Casualties of war. Those hurt the worst. The people I love the most, leaving me to find the surface alone. It's enough reason to start the next showing. Like that, I return to my stage, my battlefield, my diving board until the next intermission.

the morning after always hurts the worst
hazy brain
summersault stomach
and where in the hell is my car

i want a pizza
or two

it was nice to see you
i've missed your smile
and condensed stare
and the shape that your lips make while you confess your love to the beer bottle's neck

that explains the jameson
and all the beers at the bar
the beer bongs at the after party
and why i could stomach the strippers

it was all you
so nice to see you

why do i always feel guilty when the sun comes up

no one got a black eye
i didn't grab the mic
and my clothes stayed on until i was safely home
although
the cab driver may have caught a glance

to think
i'm "all grown up"

i'm not at all sorry
not for the whiskey gut
or the fire i'll throw up
or the kisses that i didn't plant along your collar
i'm still the same floral-print ship-wreck at the bottom of the bottle

my mother once said that the only people worth clinging to
are those who see all of your greatness outweighing your flaws

you still see the holes in my tights
and my falling hem line
not the honey sweet legs they shape
or the hips and thighs that the denim hides
i'll be just fine as the german genie in the bottle of irish whiskey

witty
and slack-jawed
and ready to kiss the lips off the face of the clock
and two shots away from dancing with the cops
i look great in hand-cuffs
i'll whistle the whole way to jail

small victories weigh the most
and right now
i feel like muhammed ali

thanks, babe

here's two asprin that glow better than your eyes
and they're mine
waiting to chase away the pain that came up with the sun
here's to endings that aren't a safe bet
here's to sleeping alone
here's to new mistakes
just waiting to happen

*water never tasted so good to me

unwrap my ribs. carefully,
like a present you've been waiting for
since october.
smooth out the wrinkles
along my forehead, sip
the lines from my palms.
write letters to constellations
along my marked calves, and
stain my upraised mouth with
new words that don't
belong to me. sketch
characters inside my
elbows and draw their faces
down my stomach.

take a microscope to the pores
between my vertebrae, set
original sentiments and
grow them carefully. look through
my corneas like window-panes
shattered by heat from
a church fire. clean
the bridge of my nose of
headaches and bottles and bottles
of asprin, vicodin and something
nameless and strong.

snap my tibiae over your knee,
assemble a tired face,
put it over a mask, tie the
words to my lips and send
me out into the world a refreshed,
taken individual.

To walk a thousand miles

To take a thousand steps

First you have to be born and take your first breathe

No praise just don't scream

Directly at me at a thousand different octaves

Please see the id that requires asprin to aspire a better passion

To alleviate the headache

To know true love

Is to experience 1000 heartbeats

In 1000 situations

All at once

Few can only hope to feel that

What can feel right

And what can't be struck 1000 times

Three times the life with 333 in mind

Minus the 6 that didn't count

Plus the 12 that really mattered

And take off the 5 that will be forgotten

Maybe the rich one

Or one of the slums bums

Can question this one time

Of an aspiring poet

To write 1000 lines

But still they mean nothing

Nonetheless something

Will still push

5 by 20 incidents in a infants eyes

That will eventually happen 10 more times

And If you accept the challenge  

You have a 1000 tries to win

This is the last for the time being

1000 and done

To the last poem

Bees nest chucked into a limousine
OCD's introduced to the filth and strobe lighting

I used to be a good kid.
But the suburbs got me.
Stripped away my hope, my individuality
crammed me into a high school
with 45 blacks,
20 Asians
and only about... 3,000 white run-of-the-mill
Shaler-Bubble kids
(All of whom thought, by the way, that being Catholic
was exotic) ,
and made to eat the **** of nothing to do.

It came out in nightmares
their bad behavior
that I stood for
touched and beaten by boys
I bared it
ostracized and devoured
last year I came into my stride
but do you have PTSD?
Can you look into the eyes of another man
without wondering ******* him?
Do you want to hurt the people you love
because you fear,
no, you know,
they will **** you?
A whirl wind of insanity.
What was precarious
was pushed.

No ma'am,
the suburbs got me,
and I'm a burn out by the road
fingers dripping with paint and my own blood
and smudged with ink
I'll drink in your pity
whiskey on my mind
thank you
pass another flask of it
no drug makes me feel alive quite like asprin
maybe love, I guess
don't know how I got that, ma'am
the suburbs got me
maybe I can get out.

I was always worst in the morning.
Burnt out hungover and in need of something to eat and a few strong aspirin.

The phone. rang and its normal intrusion always gave me the knee **** reaction to smash it into the wall.

But being i couldnt afford to live let alone replace **** i answred it instead.

Collect call from Austin will you accept the charges the operater asked ?

In her mock happiness from sitting in one spot listening to people for which she probaly held as much regard as i did.

I didnt need to ask from who only trouble and bill collectors call me in the morning.
Usally the bill collectors dont call collect.

I excepted .

What is it Cheryl?

The timid voice came through as she always did whenever she wanted something.

Hi baby how are you?
I'm sorry i had to call you this way i know it costs .

Don't sweat it I wont pay the bill anyways .

I hated phones and pretty much wasnt a fan of human contact altogether.
Well minus certain ocassions .

So what you need kid?

You always have been a blunt person.

Have to be when it cost me by the second sugar.

I wanna come home baby.

Yeah thought you left me to go home.
What happend didnt go to the right home?

Please Jack I need to be back with you this time apart made me realize just how much i truly cant be without you.

It had been over two weeks since Cheryl had packed her **** and had me drop her off at the bus station .
She just took her bags turned away and walked out of my life.

She was a pure ***** maybe thats  why i liked her so much .

I hit the bottle and she hit the highway bound to the state she called home to the life she claimed to have thrown away for me .

That last fight had been a glorious shouting match I usally took.the sarcastic smart *** route but i had enough of her ******* and lies .

I was a ******* but least i was a honest one.

Jack please i'm coming home either way.

I took the last of my money to buy this bus ticket .

Yeah so why call me if your coming back anyways?

I knew full well why she was returning.
Cheryl was the type that required far to much maintance for anyone to handle let alone people who werent getting something in return.

Baby i just wanted you to know i ****** up I cant live without you im coming home to you.

I paused for a moment thought about that perfect body and the nights it layed against me in the calm of a harsh summer night.

I thought of the nonstop chaos .
The fights she was a woman of great passion maybe thats why she was so good in bed .

I was hungover like hell lonley but i would heal the strong ones always do.

Baby are you there ?

Yeah well thanks for the warning sweetheart .
I said as i simply hung up the phone and unplugged it from the wall.

Yeah i needed alot of things.
A new liver ,Maybe a job that didnt drive me insane .
A good bottle maybe a meal inbetween.

I needed more than a few things .
But a hurricane of emotional horse **** i did not .

I took four asprin and returned to bed to sleep it off

It was silent in the room dark and empty.
It was the most peace i had known in a very long time.

It was what I needed.

How did we meet,
Was it out there on the crossing paths of the street
Eye contact interrupted by the buzzing of the bees
A bus and trolly wafting a cool breeze through the air towards me

We could never know because it's only a single serving interaction
A single packet of cream on an airplane
A single serving packet of asprin
Something that will never amount to the idea of what my eyes wanted to claim

But in that moment stranded in time, away from everything else
The lock of two strangers eyes can amount to all that I needed to see
To help me know what I alone could be
The anonymity of your life to mine the mystery is what makes it a beautiful lie

Not a lie in the sense of a falsehood
But rather in the sense of placement on a fairway
The geographical landscape of our lives,
In which I can spot you and you can see me
But we remain never to interact
And live on our lives in the vastness of our own the sea of lies

You're a cold walk in December when it's snowing and I forgot my coat.
When I'm shaking and shivering running into Walgreens because their heater is on.

You're a brisk wind and a fast paced argument that happens on a Sunday afternoon in church.
You cursed in front of your god for me not believing your beliefs.

You're a Saturday afternoon breakfast because I woke up to late and hungover.
When the food got cold because I couldn't find the asprin and broke down in tears on my kitchen floor.

See you're the reason I fell in love and the reason I drink to much of the hard stuff instead of tea.
But you don't understand that yet, which is why you still watch cartoons Saturday morning, and I cry alone in bed.

You're a cold walk in  December  when it's snowing....

In beautiful waves of
Reds
Old cartoons
Stupid jokes
Laughter ringing in my ear like sunshine
Tangurines
Purples
A mother's hypocracy
A lovely woman, sleeping softly
Rainy Days
Sadness
Bird songs
A beautiful spring dress wore to a morbid event
Greens
The sounds of a young adolecent trying to prove her point
Teals
A child's stubborn nature
Black
The nostalgia comes
To a weary heart
And suddenly I need an asprin

"Tell me about your family."

Before I tell you about my family I must warn you.
My family story isn't a happy one
It's not a story full of Christmas cards and family game nights.
It's not picturesque. It's not a story of smiles and laughter.

It's a story full of guilt and self hatred.
It's a story composed of slamming doors and cigarette burns.
It's me on the floor crying questioning my self worth.
It's my mom holding a bottle of anti-depressants that she always claimed were asprin.
It's my brother seconds before attempting to take his own life.
It's my sisters leaving to live with my grandparents.
It's my dad living behind bars. He couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Before you ask about my family...

You should know my family's story is one that only knew absence and hatred. It never loved. It never cast out my demons, in fact it's the reason they're there. It never said "good job." It never comforted. It never made anything better.

I want somebody who i can hold at night to rid these bad habits of mine.
Cuz over time, I've picked up blowing and drinking wine
I actually would like for you to be the one I call mine
To be that go to drug whenever I need a quick fix
Whenever im going through ****, and just click
I want your kiss to be the ashes I flick
I want you to be that theraflu for when I get sick
Of this **** that requires a quick fix
Im strong enough on my own
But to have your personal drug to call your own
Would be the ultimate goal
Don't get me wrong boo,
Because I will be the very same for u
I will be that asprin waiting by ya bed
That shot u take to the head
That eases ya pain.
So how about u be my icy hot
cooling me down but then getting me hot
Being my alcohol and being my ***
I wanna smoke u until u get smoked out
Or even until theres no doubt
That you'll heal me
Or until the thought of u being wit me
Gets me higher than any amount of estacy
Cuz truly i just want u to be that drug that takes me higher than medically possible
I want you to make me feel powerful and unstoppable
Taking me above and beyond
So do u think u cud fulfill these wishes?

Signed, a feigning misses.

I sit alone in my room.
not unusual
for someone like me.

I've lost hope,
so precious, so pure.
So vile, so raw.

This heart,
it beat
for you and you only.

And when you left
I was lost.

I spent so many years
searching
for the light that lived in your eyes.
The spark of your smile,
that set the room ablaze.

Only to find,
That the spark had been drowned
In a wave of hatred
and bitterness.
and *****.

Though I found you,
My heart remains lost.
Knowing that you are not you,
I am not me.

My heart beats wildly,
and frantically,
looking for a way out, a place to hide.

And so I make a desicion.

50 asprin
layed neatly in row
across my kitchen counter.
light shines on little opals

I find a memory of you
and I swallow it,
with the pill.
burying it deep inside.
no way out now.

15 minutes later

I am lying on the floor
swimming in my own *****.
My heart beats wildly
and frantically.


And my
Heart beating
Head spinning
I am
your smile

Sheets of shame, blankets of burdens
So many lies you tell to yourself
Quick to forgive- excuses, excuses
You are so holy, you don't need anyone's help
You need humility
I need validation
You're living someone eles dream
You need a glass of wine
I need an asprin
Not too many things are as it seem

Captain's Log,
rough seas this morning
as we sailed into
Port Hangover
first mate Asprin taking double shift
as is galleymate Coffee. Unable to make headway against megrim winds.
Also having difficulty navigating nausea reef,
may need to run aground
on Throwasickie island
as vision is becoming blurred.
Put present difficulties
down to attack of tannins, whilst sailing
wide red wine sea,
last watch.

morning has broken... me
and my swirling head
....the blackbird has spoken
to me of life .....choices and
....bad breath
the cat of humble has .....
dragged me home
and left me....bedraggled.....
....upon the kitchen mat...
for the daylights bright
corusculating light
to pin me..... between the eyes
....my remedy... of coffee black
with asprin on the side...
is over glacial plain
......hangover wide
mountain..... of  roaring
rending, sounding, guilt
....top high
let the shower hot then cold
then freezing then hot......
cleanse the grit, grime
tequila lime, rime..... away
...........time to be bright
... time to be right.....
           .....and start the godamned day

black coffee and asprin for breakfast
and i'm still shooting blanks
pouring it over my face, scalding
dripping down my *******
black coach bags
staring back at you
your hungry mouth
reaching for mine
regardless

I met you on a cold rainy night and then after you warmed my days
You were dressed in vines that nature named beauty and grace
You were the precious piece of my life that no one ever lets go-
That I would never let go.

But Life you ******* you took my precious away from me, my warmth,
My grace and my beauty, the beat to my heart, Life you *******
You took it away from me before I was ready to let it go.

When I saw you I used where my broken tattered heart on my sleeve
And then piece by piece you made me feel whole again, you see
You were like the asprin I needed to subside my pain, you were
Like the sun casting out the clouds on my rainy days.

You were the precious piece of my life that no one ever lets go-
That I would never let go.

But Life you ******* took my precious away from me, my warmth and
my beauty and grace, the aspirin to my pain, the air in my lungs
Life you **** ******* you took my precious away from me before
I was ready to let it go.

KM’

almost started to chase after you
glad that moment found the exit turn
just like a flash
kind of like how you entered
and ****, I was was so well sheltered
I sometimes wish
you would have kept walking the day we fell in
creeping across my brain
you can't be touched by asprin
you're a headache wrapped in a heartache
and I'm ******* tired of laying awake
you're way ahead of me and I'm tripping
I've got broken toenails from all your breaks in the concrete
in cement sealed secrets we left between the sheets
in between a smoke break and a beer
hot sauce dripping on black leather
you had books but no bookshelf
said you'd rather build one for cheaper
and that was ******* ****
sawdust coated
steal toed footing
tobacco dipping
still ******* tripping
losing my footing
where was I going...
shut the ******* door behind you as you go
better yet
I'll hold it open for you while telling myself "I told you so!"
you're always ******* with me
I see it and it remains unseen
I'm country boy weak