I'm a slow-runner who'll throw up before we reach the mile

and I request in your best interest

that you look away while I fail

(it's the rules of decorum).

I'm afraid

the way numbers go has never changed since numbers have been numbers

(what were numbers before?)

and can I do one on you

like you did one on me

(twice)? hardly.

the countdown in my ( Read more... )

I'll bite whatever feeds me

like a teething baby

with the wretched

unforgivable

twist of awareness;

which unendears any intentions

and I scream into the night

until lungs give up

and ears bleed out

because I have yet to learn

the language of

regret.

I miss my childhood dog.

I miss the muddy boots I couldn't walk in.

I miss the pink closet and the fluorescent stars.

I miss the smaller hands I had to play the small guitar.

I miss the plastic slide in the playground next to my father's ex-wife's house.

and I'll read the eulogy of everything I no longer have,

and kickstart the mourning with

( Read more... )

I spend my nights facing an unlocked gate in hopes I catch the passage of time in a rusty whim. I don't. It has a way of overrunning you like Santa Claus in your grandparents' porch; like the realization of yourself a little too late.
I don’t regret as much as I wonder or as much as I tether "what ifs" into dirty locks of hair. Open-mouthed prayers ( Read more... )

I see my brother's pain
in the way he cries bullets.
his wrath stinks
of my father's stale beers
and grainy barley bread
from the morning after.

I see my brother's pain
in my own.
while I drown and he burns,
someone else's bite
carves a hole inside
the door.

there's a big bad moon in a starless night
and I'm thinking of a 1001 things to tell you
but not sending any.
I'm the type of air that wraps around your lungs
and squeezes
and then cries out "I know mouth to mouth
don't leave just yet!"

don't leave just yet.
I see your face around my bedroom ceiling
and you don't wanna talk and I wanna hate you
but I never ( Read more... )

a couple of days ago when I woke up someone had shot the sun right on its forehead. could have been me in a dream, yelling about summer and scraped up knees and throwing things I wish I could retrieve.

by waking up hour I couldn't move. I leaked everywhere and hoped for a priest to recollect me. exorcize the nooses around my throat, cut my hair, ( Read more... )

yellow lights make it look like your dress has a fever. there's an iridescent christmas tree in the hall, it tastes like nothing. everything tastes like nothing nowadays.
yesterday I spent my whole evening knees-deep into an icy sea, reading over a rock and secretly praying a wave would run me over. I see dead jellyfish along the sand. I envy their ( Read more... )

I wrote a thousand songs apbout it

I puked and cried and squirmed about it

I hid under my bed about it

so why does it linger still?

I told her everything about it

I hugged and screamed an fought about it

I'm writing to myself about it

emaciate how I feel

I'm tired, mom. I wanna sleep in.

I know you hate it, mom.

I hate it too.

I don't know how to tell my mom - or my psychiatrist, for what it's worth - that I didn't make it. they paint me stronger than I am. I'm a faded blue tint.
I was born during spring, which translates into autumn in the proper hemisphere. properly speaking, I was born in the beginning of death. I think it makes more sense. I don’t see myself a ( Read more... )