"I'm not afraid to die," I said
If I was sure money wouldn't be wasted on a funeral
I'd **** myself anyway

Inconsequential, any of us
Why does it even matter, when all we are is dust?
"You inject meaning, and that's how you live how you do"
I reject that completely, what I've done is just not done.

i tried to shoot for the moon
But gravity reared its head
my dreams just couldn't escape orbit
now my dreams are dead

"Write about me," she said.

No. How could I?
I felt nothing.
I was nothing.
Putty in her hands,
just another boy in her bed.
Another notch on her bedpost
Another night she wanted head.

With all honesty, I was only
here because I wanted the same:
to dive in quick and after,
still feel sane.

"Stop writing about me," you said.

No.

I dream about you still
even in my waking hours you come, unsolicited, like bugs in the walls of an unkempt house
and I would let you in,
and warm you up by the firelight
but you insist on staying away
and I am left with soft echoes of you
haunting the recesses of my brain
I wish you would come back
completely, or leave forever
because I cannot live with halfdead memories
Only to wake up and feel empty again

I vaguely remember us on the edge of a canal
Fists clenched, holding the night sky
Standing, screaming that we were alive
Back then it wouldn't have been a lie

And on barstools as well, faint guitar riffs
Echoing through smoky pub air
Heads lain flat on damp tables
Wish we'd known then the difference between having purpose and simply breathing

Also our beds, with the lights dimmed
Asking questions neither could answer
Just two ignorant kids waxing philosophy
Just two ignorant kids already forgetting how to live

I couldn't look into the mirror today
I was afraid to meet the bloodshot eyes of someone I barely knew
I'd seen that look on a dozen faces before his, and I couldn't deal with disappointment right now.

what a riot.

I've read this before, in countless YA novels that ate away at my brain; the soda of the written word
"I don't recognise myself," he says to himself, fingers dancing over his reflection.
"I have to figure out who I am."

what a riot.

I took another hit, and another and another
I couldn't afford it, but needs must-
And I needed to forget.
I couldn't look into the mirror today.
I'd recognise him too well.

what a riot.

She felt like fire,
leaving scorch marks across
the inside of my chest

It burned everything I was
and I was left like residue
from a catalyst used wrong

I felt like ice
running from her flames
melting under her smoldering skin
I felt fluid and chill
but I was burning up too fast and


I feel like air.
Quiet.