Call me an alcoholic,
Druggie, ******. I am none of these things.
I have my fits and fiends of wanting **** and wine, but
I am fine.

Have you ever written letters you don’t send?

I don’t think it was really unfair of me, but there were certainly better ways. It might’ve been easier if I’d said no—a jab to alert you of the no-ness—but I wanted to say yes, even though I knew I would possibly say later “I can’t”.

I’ve liked you for a while. I denied it for some time. Even though we dated briefly and it seems like smoke now, it validated the summers we spent together. Even in 2011 I liked you; last year I did and was scared to; this year I let it happen. I couldn’t control it. I saw you and wanted you, I had to; I had you. You were more than summer ******* and we both know it. It was hard to say and acknowledge though, because summer things come up. You’re not like other “lifeguards” I “******” though, and I know I’m not just another lifeguard you ****** either. We’re friends. We were something.

I’m sorry I left suddenly, rashly and didn’t talk to you for a week.. but I know you’re not emotionally weak and you dealt with it even if it confused or surprised you. It was a defense mechanism on my part. I wouldn’t have known how to approach you or maintain a long distance relationship, especially since I’m living with Rachel.. of course you could’ve visited, but it would’ve been uncomfortable once you left and we both know that. This situation has already been mapped out and I think we both knew the outcome of this fall. We’re friends however, well, I actually value you as one, and I would like to see you and hang out. Maybe I’ll hit you up when I’m back in the area—if you want to see me, that it—and as I said, if you’re in Annapolis and want to go out some weekend that’s possible. I wouldn’t even have to stay with you if it were too much; I could hang out with Katie. But either way would be fun, I think.

So I didn’t want a relationship. Yet here I am, trying to communicate and write you… yesterday was weird. I realized an entire week had passed since I left you and didn’t say anything. I wanted to write you. I texted you to make sure it was okay. Maybe you thought it was a bit ****** up or maybe you weren’t phased, but either way I’m sorry I left like that. I didn’t know how else to leave.

Please know, however, that I wanted to be your girlfriend, even if it was just for a little bit of time. I used to think dating you wasn’t even something to consider because neither of us seemed to be interested in a relationship and we are the type of people who don’t usually get attached. I have problems with that. And right now I’m in an awkward situation here because I told Rachel I don’t want to have *** with anyone right now—which I don’t (Salisbury is STD and I’m clean, plus I’m kind of emotionally drained and even though *** is physically fun it brings a lot of baggage.. not that I’m attracted to anyone here anyways but this fall is about ME and getting awesome grades/working on grad application stuff/trying not to lose it)—and she is included in that.

I did have *** with her when I came here though… I guess it was “I missed you,” ***, or “I don’t want to feel with emotions regarding Drew so I’m going to ******* as a distraction” ***, or maybe even “I wonder if we can just have *** as friends without any relationship ties,” ***.. which can’t happen either. She likes me still, or loves me, or whatever. I don’t know how because I’ve been so emotionally distant but I guess she misinterpreted me being nice/being down for *** for still caring about her that way. Between finishing my class, worrying about working and being around her (just her for now, the other roomies should be here next week) I’ve pushed down thinking about you because it was hard to. I remember last year and how it was then, too. Things don’t seem to change much.

Rachel asked about you. I told her honestly. I told her that I couldn’t attach to her the same and that I liked you and I’m sorry I hurt her this summer, but last year she got a boyfriend and I had you.. then I left and she still had him and I wasn’t sure how you felt, but I met Ben and when I realized it wasn’t the way I perceived it to be in my head she was there when I was alone and vulnerable. It took her a long time to admit she liked girls but I’m over it with her, honestly, even though I find her sexually attractive.

When I talked about you, however, she said she would get whatever needed to satisfy all aspects of my bisexuality.. but I told her there was a difference in the way it feels to be with a man, and I thought of you—your warmth, strength and ability to excite me with such passionate heterosexual compulsion.

My mind is so ****** right now. Both of you are part of my past and present although it’s different. I’m not going to sleep with Rachel, and I’m not around to sleep with you (not that you would anyways—although I’m not sure you wouldn’t if the moment was right) so I’m not going to sleep with anyone. *** isn’t always just *** and I am in a situation now where I’m being influenced by feelings and ****** ties and I don’t want any with her. I think about you, though, and it’s easier because I’m not around you but it wasn’t very long ago that I was. I guess I took it for granted. It’s really over now since I’m not coming back to PMSI, but it at least made me happy that I could validate the way I felt towards you. The last boyfriend I had was three years ago, and, besides Rachel, I haven’t been in a relationship. It’s hard for me to like people sometimes, and I don’t know if I can like anyone fully.. that’s why I didn’t want to try with you, really. I didn’t want to lead you on or give you expectations of how our long-distance relationship could’ve been, but I want you to know that I still like you and will have to eventually get over you, but I am going to let time do that instead of distracting myself with other people—that’s what I used to do.

You told me once I was a void you were trying to fill.. I don’t want to be that. I want to be a piece that something can be built on; I want to be an experience on which you can reflect fondly and acknowledge that, although brief and often unclear, was real. You influenced me, shaped me and changed me, for the better, I think. I think we’ll always be cool and I’d like to keep in touch and see you.. but I understand that things may not be as casual regarding the way we act towards one another.

Otherwise, things are okay. I’ll have two jobs this fall, five classes and hopefully a bit of time for chill activity to maintain my sanity but I don’t want to be with anyone here. There’s no way I could. Rachel asked about us.. I told her I didn’t want to talk about it with her. I don’t. I hope she moves on but she’s in her room currently hanging out and I’m doing the same. It’s nice to have time alone to think. I can’t help but feel bad for her.. but feeling bad makes me accessible to her—which I need to stop.

She prances the streets, a ballerina in heat snapping finger's in rhyme! Forget thy time, she telephathicly makes her own.

She lives alone, yet roomies become her attire, maiden of dires, dating site's not accommodating thy interest? Pinterest !

A pipe she keeps next to her bed, juicy lipstick, a prideful head,
Yet still her small green bag does not satisfy.. Queen so blind!

Smoke evacuates the old pried windows that are nailed, for ghosts do haunt her, within and outside..

Thoughts of suicide, as riddles she makes up to stay sane, her mascara pounds to thine rain that leaks into her basement sanctuary!!

Addict's she clings to, monsters she speaks to, as her cats keep good company, I know!!!!

An operetic show, a fatalist as me, yet still hoping for whats not there, unruly she dares!!!

Her street lies beyond the ghettos, 515 dover lane ..
On the east side of town where the bullets meet with trains!!

Factory's of grains that make your daily bread, where thy living and thou dead come in between two world's...

Lonesome young girl, no more chariots can you escape, for thou art blundered and unvaped to the cloud animals thou creates!

The world has lost its way
Addicted to lust and ****
***** and floored
Swathed by cyborg technology!!!
Lost themselves
Made bionic feelings
Of false self help
Their ways of living
And no room for laughing!!!
Their trusses are teathered
Demons with feathers
Using planes for war
Buying hypnotic's on shore
Spending money for hypnotic's
*** trade of the ******
Average being
Turned psychotic
As the hospitals are bashed with junkies
For tis,
Yes
The devil's quite spunky
Thy mind is all funky
Thine cars thou hast made roomies
As thou forgot thy wife and beau
Thou hast ruined mine view
Put lazors in space
**** babies by race
And romantic's tis
Should I even mention thou?
I chuckle and puke
To thineself I rebuke!!!!

As I seeketh reality,
Tis
Still choking in mine own claret!!!

Day 1
We'll maneuver down your ecosystem driveway onto
Latcha; not on red-spray painted bikes, but in maroon Civic.
Lunches packed, cooler stacked, en route for 8 hours [we reckon].
I presume five hours away and three hours to Waterloo my dad will wonder about our E.T.A, and I will say, "we are about three hours away."
We'll have fought over D.J. and agreed on the Stones,
but you'll know the words more than I.
But we'll save money and lodge ourselves at a
friend's house with the same last name as a vacuum.

Day 2
9 hours to Rapid city, South D
hopefully to see the faces of old men carved into a big old rock.  
I'll look out the window and quote lines from "America" by Simon
and Garfunkel and be the best ******* co-pilot that ever was.

Day 3
Country Motor Inn, drive on, to the Country Motor Inn!
Hey,
now's a good time to take that Adderall.  

Day 4-8
To the coast,
to hike around the area,
to rent bikes,
to drink hip-hoppity PNW brews with yous
and you're new, cool roomies.  

Day 9
South,
Southwest
Airlines.
Clenching the arm chairs,
would rather take a 74-hour train ride
than be up in the air.

curled up in a corner
of a room you will find me
bent
but not broken and spent
but not spoken with spokes of the bicycle
wheel that broke off and
rolled through the liberation
gate staking
my face-plates,
now, folks,
I have warned you
I am horned and with virtue,
alone but not lonely
I'm a circus clown's pony with
plots of freak mutiny,
a ship-wrecked bronze bust of political impunity
I am star-gazing through blazes of thin paper, puny
little pinners pressed tightly by blazer pocket roomies.
I'm a goonie, a goblin and a masked, hooded robin robbing rich people's goblets of every droplet
and although I move slow I will not
ever stop it
so I sew
on the buttons after I do the popping while Millers mill about
doing holiday shopping
how sloppy
our rituals all empty and flopping
about in the wind like a limp rubber topping for
bottles of formulas filled up with tube-fed
federally-regulated hormonally-muted
undead
living piglets with noses as red as
our shred
of human dignity left after all that
we've spent.
I'm the leftovers left under every park bench.
I'm a snarling, glad monster with the truest intent
for every breath
to be free.
like my fangs and my
fur all curled up in a
corner of a room you'll find me.

What must it have been like thirty-four years ago
For my parents, still with three months to go?
Weddings and funerals days before they had attended
Now one life begins just after another ended.

Nine months the calendar says we must wait
But not for my arrival; just couldn’t risk being late
July was the due date, not any time before
But I arrived instead in April, month number four.

Thinking back on it now, I must quickly pause
And ask what kind of commotion did I cause?
The first cries from my mouth, the first glimpse at my head
What were they thinking about where life had led?

A priest baptized me quickly as a child of the Lord
I gradually improved, and then their spirits soared
Months later I would come to my first and only home
But unlike most children I did not begin to roam

Both said I used my energy to speak
It was almost like I knew my body was too weak
I would give anything to spare them the pain and shock
Of being told by doctors I would never truly walk.

I don’t know for a fact but I’m guessing my dad
Took this news to heart quickly and got really mad
After all, this man wanted to make others feel better
And now his own son was sick?  Here come the four letters

Or was their no sadness between them?  No anger? No pain?
Just a quiet resolve to let normalcy reign?
I suppose in some way they had no choice to make
Just do the best job they could and accept any mistakes.

This may seem strange, but I truly want to know
After being told this, where did they think my life would go?
How did this change their plans for me?
What did they think?  What could I be?

Don’t mistake this for pity; I’m not feeling sad
My childhood was awesome; the best I could have had
A brother and sister who helped, played, teased and fought
Would I change anything, you may ask?  Absolutely not!

Parents who encouraged me to learn, grow, and love life
Never hiding that all of us would one day face strife.
I was never promised anything would be simple or done with ease
But lately I just want to shout “Can I catch a break please?”

Don’t misunderstand, I’m not here to place blame
We all have parts to play in life’s little game.
But sometimes it feels like the wheels have gone off the track
And I’m looking for ways to get the balance back

People often say with a grimace or a frown
That life goes by too fast, and they wish time would slow down.
That is not my main complaint, but if I had to take a crack
It would be that I feel just about a decade out of whack.

Up through high school was pretty much an active blur
Football games, pools, proms, I never really felt unsure
My 16th year passed without trips to Driver’s Ed
But I never really cared because I knew what lay ahead

Graduating HS and then leaving town
Heading to college away from parents?  Nothing could bring me down
That summer and the next four years simply couldn’t be beat
At that point, it seemed like the world was at my feet.

My time at college would change me at my core
Hangovers?  Drug-addled roomies?  Never had those before
I wasn’t totally naïve; I knew all three existed
But voluntarily choosing them just seemed to make things twisted.

Yup, I was a goody-goody; though not quite like the Pope
But whenever things went off script it was hard enough to cope
Like telling a mom her son was kicked out after she asked me
Or when he said, “If the cops come don’t worry; I crashed into a tree.”

I didn’t mind these changes; though many thought I should
If they didn’t serve as a reality check, what else ever would?
Old friends left and new ones were made
Some memories are gone now, but so many have stayed

My first prom date in high school soon went away
Freshman year of college, right before Valentine’s Day
Soon after, a new girlfriend came along for a stint
At that point, I saw what craziness meant.

It wasn’t her fault; that’s not what I meant
We had good times; including a traveling version of RENT
But there was no real spark between us; just one of those things
Very quickly she learned how to pull my strings

Those two people??  Yup, they’re it
Keeps running through my mind
Yet I still believe there is someone
Out there for me to find.

I’ve been out with women since and felt more than a tingle
It’s just that none of them have ever been single
Married, engaged, friendzoned, or my decision
It feels like I’m out on an undercover mission

Online dating pops up in my head
Don’t have the guts to see where that would have lead
Please don’t read this and start to feel sad
It is not intended as a personal ad

I’m bringing it up because all too often
People with disabilities falling in love is all but forgotten
Every time the subject comes out of my mouth
People run for the hills or start heading south

Even friends and family who go back a long way
Often stay silent with nothing to say
Kept waiting for that much hyped talk about safety, women, and manhood
But no one  ever said a word, and I’m not sure they ever could.

I’m not an idiot of course, I know how it goes
Have fun, be respectful and safe, put bros before **’s
These days, I will stop and think   Do people even care?  
Or simply feel like it’s impossible because of the chair?

That’s the million dollar question with an answer unsaid
I don’t regret a single minute of where my life has led
My five nieces and nephews bring more joy than I’ve ever had
But eventually someday, I want to be a dad

Whenever that thought gets some space in my head
I always try and visualize five plus years ahead.
Many logistical questions abound
Could I chase him or her?  Change a diaper?  Pick them up and carry them around?

Be a good teacher of what they should know?
Compassion and hope no matter where time may go?
Give them all of the best things in life?
Without adding a burden to any future wife?

Don’t get ******; I’m not cursing the chair
Or saying that it has become too much for me to bear
It’s my legs, my freedom, and my travel; hope that doesn’t sound cheesy
But I also understand why it may make others uneasy

I don’t drive on my own, can’t dress or shower without an aide
So people don’t worry much about me getting laid
Totally understandable, no problem there
My issue comes when others think I don’t WANT these things or care.

I’ve heard “You drink??” in surprise and “Hey man, you must have pills”
Not screaming back takes all of my will.
“I won’t hurt you; will I?; “Do you smoke **** for the pain?”
Comments like these just drive me insane.

Not all of them are meant with spite
I can tell the difference and am usually right
But it must be out in the open and said without care
That people with disabilities should do whatever they can dare

It’s not always easy; that’s why I started this rhyme
Unexpected obstacles and problems can eat away at our time
But always keep people around who will let you dream
Celebrate your successes, and be there when you need to scream

They may not be the ones you thought or who you knew the longest
But you don’t need physical power to be among the strongest
Even if it takes more time than first thought
Never let anyone say that you should not have fought

Go to concerts, casinos, see the B’s, C’s, Pats, or Sox
Resist when anyone tries to put you in a box
Always give and expect 100 percent; never settle for half
And I guarantee no matter what, you will have the last laugh

To those who may know me,  thanks for being there
In ways big and small, you’ve all shown that you care.
It’s good to get this out with no apology
My next step isn’t clear yet, but no one will stop me!

A craigslist seeker, she seeks to die and dies to live, Cant pay the rent when the roomies turned out to material gifts, what a queen she is, tattoos to cover her paraplegic scars.. numbing is her entertatinment fly for free you darling of heavens bars, drive me wild you rose among bedded thorns where fashion is intelligent, irrevelant your beauty flows past caked mountain bliss..Lover you douse me in your 60s content where men just now understand you, how the tracks are soo bent...shine for me you diamond eye holder, Victorian crime loather, loathe with me, stick to me you animal of ****** nature, your stature hard to read, none to feed your lips to give heavens honey where no or none money can buy what all you have to sell, you stomper of demons you broke heaven and hell, for this heart has swelled to you me love..............title- limbos queen

We’re busy all day long with studying and chapter summaries,
we’re stuck in quarantine. Luckily, I like my roommate's company.

We know that we have work to do as prep for upcoming classes,
but we know that it takes more than work to make young lasses happy.

So I talked my roomies into getting, a steak-n-cheese delivery,
instead of working fact-sheets, for our next term chemistry.

Dueling playlists cave-rave from the echos in our suites,
we’re having all the fun we can on opening quarantine week.

Some guys try for invites, like we’re throwing a private wingding,
but those texts go unanswered ‘cause we’re genuinely quarantining.

With the COVID blues proscribed - get that frown right off your face miss,
our studies are on schedule - and it’s time for some serious play *****!

this place is a mess
It doesn't make any sense
I have to, take a guess
What happened to my ******* nest?
hey, who the hell are these guests?
and why are they sleeping in my bed?
why can't they see me scream?
are these people ******* facebook memes?
how did this house of one become a house of 4?
one is a ****, the other two are dumb and the third one is broke
hey! no one can live like this,
everyone needs a little bit of bliss
and I'm not even sorry, because I dissed you, you *****
you ***** should just go home and leave me the hell alone

Overwhelmed in a new city.
Dim street lights brushing the balcony.
I'm sitting with a friend and temporary roomies--
One German who is giggly and tipsy,
The other rapping--a mixture of English and Portugese.
Our eyes are twinkling as the hours are passing.

I can't stop the laughter.
The topics start serious, becoming lighter,
From the origin of man to experiencing higher--
Politics, stories, our different cultures.
Age is nothing but a number,
And I'm getting louder.

To get away from home
Is to truly become,
To be undefined by where you've come from.
Chicago has a uniquely special hum
And connected me to people who share this same blood.

"Home is where I wanna be,
but I guess I'm already there."*

At least that 'Talking Heads' song says so.

Do four walls make a home?
Can I have two roomies and still feel alone?

I don't know if that's so or if I'm even clear.
But I sure as hell I wanna get outta here!

She is lying on her side, propped up on one elbow
(Her visits are infrequent, always unannounced,
But welcome all the same, more or less)
Affecting a smile which is as adorable as it is inscrutable,
Abed with but not quite next to me,
As she insists on a bundling board between us
(Not due to any chaste modesty on her part, God knows,
But, as she says in her best Blossom Dearie sing-song,
I don’t bestow my favors on just anyone.)
She floats back to this plane of consciousness
From some reverie, some flight of fancy
Her gestures and expressions
Reflect the practiced repertoire of the veteran actress.
Tell me a story, she exhorts
(I have asked her in the past why she never regales me with a tale,
To which she fixes me with a nearly benign
And wholly silent smile.)
And so, having received my marching orders, I proceed.

We knew these guys, I began
(Thus signaling yet another tale
Residing firmly in the once-upon-a-time camp)
Who moved off campus to an old house near Analomink.
A shambling old thing
Which had been added-to and cobbled-together
To the point of an adequate habitability,
(Not that the code inspector could find the place,
Let alone bother with it)
Providing shelter from the elements
As well as the occasionally inconvenient
In loco parentis  of Residential Life,
Leaving them to certain extra-legal proclivities
In the consumption and manufacture of sundry consumables
(The back yard was a warren of copper kettles, tubing, and wire
And the word was they made their own acid in a back bathroom)
Their Merry Prankster-esque weekend excursions
From campus to liquor store to homestead,
Carried out in various states of impairment
And general disrepair of the central nervous system,
Becoming the stuff of legends and let-me-tell-you this tales,
As these were heady, open-ended days,
Mortality being a thing for hundred-level classes
In Norse mythology and cellular biology,
But one time the boys made one of those Saturday night decisions
To combine microdots and cross-country skiing,
And one of them, known to all and sundry as Mad Jack
(Georgia-bred and majoring in academic probation,
His undergraduate career a reverse Sherman’s march northward
From one undistinguished institution to another;
He’d left us shortly thereafter
For some state school just below the Canadian border)
Had failed to show back at the house.
There was frantic, perplexed debate what to do next;
Surely the authorities should be notified,
But that would require an on-site presence of the gendarmerie,
With the subsequent prospect
Of dismissal and possible confinement.
Sunday afternoon came, all whistling freezing rain and wind,
And, just as they were ready to lift the receiver and gravely dial,
Jack burst in the doorway, grinning and chirping madly
About how he’d hooked up with a townie divorcee in Stroudsburg
Dude, you’re full of **** and covered in mud,
One of his roomies stammered,
But Mad Jack simply chattered on, saying that her boyfriend
Had showed up unexpectedly,
And that he’d had to beat it through a window
Standing half-dressed in the cold for a couple of hours
While they’d argued loudly and then equally loudly made up.
Hell of a night, huh boys?,
And then Jack laughed the laugh of the living,
******, isn’t someone gonna get me a beer?

So whatever became of all your friends?, my companion asks me
I shrug my shoulders, empty palms extending upward
As if expecting someone to toss a quarter
Or some other alms my way.
Don’t know for the most part.  Jobs, marriages, life its ownself.
She fixes me with the better part of a pout,
Not much of an answer, is it?
I have very little to say for myself at this point,
Save to offer up another little shrug,
And she says Well, we do what we can with what we have,
And before I can ask her what she means by that,
She has turned away from me and burrowed into the sheets,
All but indistinguishable from the covers themselves.

Me
and my body

We aren't friends anymore
my mind that is, me
my emotional state

We share the same space
share our time,
the same resources

A constant struggle
of achieving equilibrium
they keep dialing in,

Wishes, plans, goals
expectations and energy
call it fine tuning

still
always compromised

A week earlier

A young man and this girl he was into hung out this day would change everything. They felt like a couple and had all the benefits but he wanted to make official he wanted her to be his girl. Turns out she had other plans she like how everything was going but didn't want to take it to that level. Things became awkward and weird. The two grew distant and things would never be the same.
He would confront her try to make it right but things got much worse. She was with a new person and things looked serious.
He was broken deep down and said nothing. Later her roommate would confront the broken man. She apologized for her roomies actions because the truth came out this girl was not loyal and was stringing along, this nice caring person.
The guy felt bad and hurt till a few months later he decided to move on and date again.
He met a young girl sweet wasn't his type but she would ask him out for coffee. He didn't drink coffee but did like hot chocolate. They would socialize get to know one another better. Till he felt confident and trusted her worked up the courage to ask her out on a date. Get to know her more be free from the previous death grip that burden him.
While on their date his evil ex would see them, later he would be confronted by her; she would ask, who is that and how long have you been seeing on another? The guy was puzzled, why would she care; who he dated. she was already with someone. To make things or confusing she told him she missed him then kissed him on the cheek.
The guy didn't not get this rejection but did grow while dating.