I've got too many things in my pockets
a broken hourglass, a fallen star, a pinch of jealousy,
and the keys to
your car.
When I think about the future, it all seems too far...
so here I keep my heart, in my pocket,
in a Tupperwear jar.
Sometimes I feel like crying
tears...they ruin my face with the streaks of blackened lament
and I drown myself in *****
at the bar.

the shutters are kept a jar closed this morning. i will only see out of one eye. my own blue light vibrates, hollows out my greying stomach leaving space to think - - you should’ve reached out but i can’t get my hand past the edge of my bed, so i use my hands instead to harden my molten tongue and soften my clenched cheeks. a sour gap between chin - - belly. rolling a mushy blade of grass between my fingers - - stretching a water bottle - - kicking the end of my bed - - do you feel empty? she said. I said  - - like unthreaded needles? like tupperwear unfilled?  - - is that empty? you felt like silk disrupted with the crease on your forces and i tried to collect the other day but you weren’t even there it was some other guy i only see you when i buy bags of must i miss the hugs you gave from ear to floor but now you’re cheating on me with yourself and now i’m a zippo without fluid and you’re the first *** packet without a number and without a warning and i'm without - -