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z Feb 2016
Everything is strange
I say as I
Stand alone in the
Backwater subway
People are strange
The way they behave
When they see
Open things
They shy away
Open like the broad day
And the snow somehow
Gets down through
Those vents
And piles up in
Here underground
And in the no-access
Places behind cages
People look at you funny
When you have something
To say
People are strange
z Feb 2016
What I am to you
New me, think of
A me that is
The doubt keeps me awake and makes
the nicks where I shaved my face
smart like
cirrus clouds
New me
I'll ignore you

What I am to you
Old me
Cough syrup
Heavy and pathalogical
Social

New me: think of
A fresh scalpel
Sterile and ready
To use to do
the ***** work
For the next you
z Feb 2016
i exist
i exist
i exist
i bleed blue blood in a bucket. i am a sleeping child for seven years. then i am a molting insect. pain. i have no mouthparts. i am beautiful. i only live for a single night to breed as an adult. i am a mother. i can taste the melancholy atmosphere. everything dies eventually.
  Feb 2016 z
Mrs Ashley Somebody
.Honestly,
She deserves better.
She would be so good for you,
But you would hurt her,
As you already have here
By forcing her to say no.

Honestly,
You need someone strong,
Someone to put up with you
And keep you in line,
Because you'll respond in turn
And influence will change you.

Honestly,
You have been the first.
I idolized the others.
But I see your flaws
As I ought to; I could say
All the things you need to hear.

But honestly,
You need more than me:
I would hurt you, I know it.
Though unintended,
I would run with my feelings
And push you away instead.

So honestly,
Think hard beforehand
Don't ask for what you don't want
You're resilient
But I'm a pain in the neck
And I don't want to break you.

Honestly
I won't make a move.
For both fear and for the hope
That we'll just be friends
If not best ones, then good ones:
Just as we are already.

So honestly
I might want to lie
But honest I will remain
As I tell you this:
That I would only choose you
If you fully knew the price.
jab
z Feb 2016
It's sad to know I rely on a stupid thought
This itchy feeling of being asunder
Makes me wonder if I must be
Obsessed to dwell on you
You or the thought of you?
Your legs or your head?
And I hear your presence race
Over the incessant owl asking me
Who-who who-who
you make my face red and my heart pound
with the heater on and the curtains drawn I shun the sound, around
The room like a ghost, like a big
wooden beam on my chest
Or a heavy hide, a bath of heat
As I lie crucified in bed in the light of the moon
the thud-thump thud-thump like a crow
You make my fondness of you grow
To the point where you are indistinguishable from the thought of you
Who-who who-who
And that's something I don't want to do.
z Jan 2016
You told me I was wrong
I nodded and said "I am wrong"
And I am
But
You still have my uncle’s guitar
And my uncle doesn’t know
After telling me the story of how you found
A guitar in the house when you bought it
And sold it for a lot because it was rare
And my guitar might be rare
And you are gonna tell people
He never asked for it back when he left
Or what about the sweater-jacket thing I gave you
That probably still smells like me
Or maybe it just smells like you now
Or maybe it just smells like ****
Because maybe it’s in the swamp
With the guitar
I’m not going to ask for them back
And what about my virginity
I won’t ask for that back either
Nor will I ask for the months back
So, we're even (And if we're not please let me know)
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