imagine a big dragon
Are you doing it?

"ye"

what color is it?

"b-blue and yellow"

Blue and yellow. Cute! Isss it big as godzilla?

"no, it's smaller
likee the size of a horse"

Dats a smol dragon
I like him.

"its not smallllllllllll
a smol dragon would be like, a neck dragon
hes big, just not hugeeeeeee"

Ohhhh okay. He's a big dragon, but not huge.
His teeth are like little point pearls
do you see how shiny they are?
and pink

"why are his teeth pink"

They are pearls.

"but pearls are white"

then his toofers are white.

"gooood
good hygeine"

Mhmm
One of those pearls in his dragon maw
his little baby toofeers
thats you

"why?"

because than you can fly with him everywhere.
Just imagine looking down through his mouth at the cityyy
as he flyyyys
and sitting all nestled in his lip
Blue and yellow leather
He could sing you storiessss and brushes his toofers so his breath would be warm but not stinky

"gooooooooooooooooooood!
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhh­hhhhh :3"

"My small tenant" He says to you.
as you crawl out of his gum and walk out onto his tongue.

What is your dragon houses name?

"his name is roxy"

He's making a very silly face, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes to talk to you
he sounds silly too
talking with his tongue out
"Welcome Home. "

"i loveeeeee"

Roxy the Blue and yellow Horse sized Dragon House.
"Ready to slide?"
he asks you

"alwayyyyyyyyyyys"

he swallows you
it's very slippery and fun!
like a water slide
And is warm, but not smelly becaus he brushes his teeth
you fly over muscles and liquids and tongue and land on a biiiig trampoline
You can hear Roxy from all around you, quite loud "Having fun, my tennant?"
You are the small size, or a dragons tooth.

"good :3"

"uh oh!" He cries
you see fire from his back
it's zooming towards you!

"nooooooooooo run awaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy"

You run up towards his tongue and trip into the sticky icky
The fire is warm and tingles oup your back
then is over
and you standup, the back of your clothes all burnt off and your front all sticky icky
"I'm sorry, tennant"
"I sneezed"

"its oki roxy."

Roxy fashions their tongue like a staircase for you to come back outside

"daddy? Im sleepy... Can we finish the story tomorrow night?"

me too Babygurl. ^^
Yes we can

"yay!!!!!!!"

Good night

"ninighht daddy. sleeeepppppp well.
i love you"

I love you too baby girl ^^
Sweet dreams.

You curl up in roxys empty tooth spot, he covers you in his blanket tongue. it is warm. but not stinky. and you drift soft to sleep
"Good night, Tenant"
"I love you"

"i love you ttooo roxy."

I was going to write the story of us as a gift, but I've decided against it. Now, I am writing you this letter. This letter will express everything I've failed to tell you with my mouth.
I still remember the first time I saw you. My friends and I were in Bath and Body Works, killing time before the movie when they say, "hey Tae is here." I turn around and see the most handsome man I've ever laid my eyes on. You were wearing glasses and a light brown shirt with dark jeans and sneakers. I remember feeling my face flush when I saw you. Who knew that this moment would have changed my life?
One of my favorite moments between us was before we even started dating. I was scared and upset and called you in a panic. Do you remember what you did? Is there anyway you could have forgotten? You sang me "You're My Sunshine." Its the one thing that has stayed ours throughout the entire relationship and that song means more to me than you may ever know.
You've never failed to sweep me off my feet. Whether you're in a tank top and sweats, dressed up for prom, or even in your **** underwear you never fail to take my breath away.
What I'm trying to say is, I love you.
These past few years with you have been the best years of my life. I would never change it for anything. Even if it meant spending my life with David Tennant or Trey Songz, I would pick you every time.
It's going to be hard when you leave. I hope this letter brings you joy and love when we can't be together. I wish you the best of luck in college and with wrestling. I know you will excel in everything you do and I can't wait to hear from you soon.
I love you so much, Antavian. Thank you for spending my life with me, these have been the best few years. No matter what happens, *you will always be my sunshine.

I awaken to a sound
I sit up slowly and look around
The room is full of shadows
The gloom makes them dance but none of that matters
I tell myself it's all in my head
And the fact the previous owner was found last year dead
In this very same bed
Is making me jumpy and grabbing a bat
I walk to the hallway instead
Lead by my own fears but trying to face them
And looking down at the long stairs
It's dark at the bottom but I try not to care
I think I see movement below
Do I stay here, put on a brave show
The answer I already know
As I run to my room and now lock the door
It's ok to call the police
They could drive by and look in at least
I quickly get under the sheets
And sit there a moment shaking in fear
I turn on the light on my phone
And that's when I realise that I'm not alone

4/20/17

This is a public service announcement.
Attention
There are cockroaches in the walls of your body
Mold in the ceilings of your eyelids
You cry so often they can't dry out.
We paint over them with makeup
we have no idea why
we think paint
will fix your roof
There's still mold
There are still cockroaches
in the walls of your body.
We called them butterflies to be cutesy
it's time we told you
they are cockroaches.
In this familiar metaphor
where you are a grand hotel.
You were actually an AirBnB
Someone decided one day:
"AHH **** it.
We can open our house
to strangers
for a quick buck.
What's the worst that can happen?
They rob us?
HAH!
what are they gonna take?
We got nothin'"
then you did.
And they did.
they smelt bad
brought their girlfriend
and ****** in your guest bedroom

I mean it was your den,
with a sleeping bag
But they ****** in there!
In YOUR sleeping back
And stole your coffee maker!
YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE
A COFFEE MAKER
BEFORE YOU STARTED BEING
A HOTEL
you bought that ******* coffee maker
for airbnb guests
and now look at you.
Spent more on ammenaties
then you made.

Should have gone to walmart
but no
you had to "buy local"

Yes
we are still talking about your body
And cockroaches.
That ******* tennant brought cockroaches
You don't know how
but he was from new york
so it was totaly his fault.

now you need to hire pest control

BUT WHO IN THE HELL
CAN CONTROL THE PESTS
IN YOUR GODAMNED BODY

Not you.
You buy local.
These hippies don't use pesticides
thats their whole shtick.
You gotta use dirt and pray.

So you do.
You open up the wounds they left
Or you found
Or made last night

And you shove dirt in them.

And I'll be ******
if it doesn't make the cockroaches
leave.

All this must disappear -
crosswise minor roadways and
State Road with its bleating traffic,
plazas where pennies melt into
palms of Middle Eastern merchants,
Chinese, Nepalese, Indian or
what have you,
road signs for New York, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Toledo, Youngstown, Columbus, Sandusky or
what have you.
All this must disappear -
the ****** gardens
on Ohio River banks, railways rusted retired and ready to
sink silently into the soil and stone,
back yard above-ground swimming pool algae beds and front porch
family-festival fetanyl parades,
All this must disappear -
gas station dollar altars and
decaying or decayed Irondale tennant building windows, *****,
community college self-defined
street scientists gathered in old
high school parking lots discussing
politics and the Pleiades and the fastest way out of the galaxy or the
slowest way into an easy death.
All this must disappear,
from Walnut Beach to Wheeling,
and the rust lift and assemble
into something lovely tomorrow's youth can work with, can love and
can sit atop the hills and smile and
be content in knowing while I
sit on the sidewalk and be
glad the future finally showed up.

They bought me a cake
Sang to me softly
happy birthday Rachel!
I gave them a smile,
A show of sorts
And then turned my head slowly and
My lips fell and so did a
Tear.
They kept singing
Taking pictures and I pretended to laugh
Even though the smile I had on was
Fake.
I sighed and blew out my candles
I'm still not sure what I really wished for.
Death, David Tennant, or just someone to
Save me in general.
But to be honest,
I just want to be happy again.

Waiting is Nostalgic

I've seen the collage pinned to your arms
thighs stomach and wrists
Pictures you sent to yourself so you

could see what you'd carved with little
paper clips. This is how its always been,
pretty tainted with blood and I'm stuck in-

between sounding romantic about the ugly
lines drifting into our caged minds because
I've been the one wishing, pastel green

rumpled and staring at the column of
warnings disappointed death wasn't one
of them. I'm waiting to get that call, you

know the one. I daydream about how I'd
respond and I still don't hate myself  
more than you hate yourself.

Slivers of glass from my phone screen
stuck in my big toe, bruised knees, sore
throat. I got a noise complaint from my

neighbor upstairs and isn't it ironic?
I'm allowed to swear and in the eulogy
I said **** at least 27 times and 27 was

our number. Was. You're still here.
But how many minutes will tick by?
The first time you counted out 62 pills

and downed them with kale ***** you
snuck from your parents stash in the
unfinished room they always said they'd

fix up someday. The second time: black
ice down the hill by the nature center, chevy
truck flipped, roof crunching down over—


concussion, sprained arm, bruises, health
conditions (heart), too many ambulance
rides and not enough $1000 bills. Specifics?

January 3rd 2018. Swing.
September 20th 2018. Pills spill.
December 7th, my phone is on,

Doctor Who theme song, David Tennant era.
I’m suppressing my anxiety around you,
can’t even whisper. Banter ‘bout death,

back and forth and back is the dot dot dot
at the end of each joke. I strummed 17
melodies we’d written together, you

struck the lyrics and I, the tune and we
named it Chocolate Blue after the candy
colored eyes of a boy I liked in tenth grade.

In The Book Thief, Liesel sees Rudy Steiner
die, I cried at 3am, characters evoke tears
more than real people because twelve

years ago I could only show anger, they
let me stay safe when reality crumpled,
crinkled eyes aren’t only for smiles. 584

pages blamed my personality according to him.
You revealed the abuse I hadn’t considered,
but you don’t see the abuse in that *******

of a house. ******* doesn’t cover the half
of it, but your favorite insult was from a book,
‘****-gurgling fuckbuckets’. Beep. Beep. Beep.

December 8th, 2019. No sound but a flatline.
It’s how I imagined it. A call at 16:57pm. And
isn’t it peace? At least to you it is and maybe

I shouldn’t have fabricated reality. Maybe.
8121900 was your passcode, a collage I
chewed my lips to—delete, delete, save.