It was beating itself
against the glass,
it didn’t understand
why
it couldn’t get through.
I was trying to eat breakfast.
It was making those
incessant
buzzing sounds
[they do]
when they are at
wit’s end.
So focused.
It
never
saw it coming.
My mother
is dying.
so I
bite off
my lips
for not
speaking,
my fingers
bloody
for not
reaching out
more;
drink
the organs
she gave me
stripped
and fatty.
maybe
this time
they will
heal new
and
those skins
Will know
what to do(?)
today’s
the birthday
of this dead
vegan guy
I met in 2011
at this hookah bar
the modern post.
he was great;
Full of life,
but seemed
so depressed.
His brother,
who looks like
a conehead,
works at a
Whole Foods now
and I see him
around.
They were
the first vegans
I ever met.
I used to think
all vegans
were aliens,
cone head or not.
—
levi and I
cuddled and
fell asleep on
an alignment
of chairs once.
He’d tell me
I was beautiful,
and ask me
to marry him.
he was like someone
took a five year old
and stretched him out
so he was taller.
I never really knew him
that well at all.
in that diner booth
at god knows what time
he asked me,
“Have you ever slit your wrists?”
–five times.
Maybe it was the booze;
or Maybe
I just look like
[ ]
All I
need Is
Sharon van etten
And sun rays
—
The most
Depressed flower
Sips vegan
Caramel lattes.
they cut
you open
pressed
little metal
charms inside
between
delicate folds
of your vitals.
“i mean these,
these mean well.”
—
tried as
a witch
—
who knew,
once
persecuted,
those charms
smelt
kindness
into regret?
a racing mind
can’t excelerate
without a course
to ride on.
the oil spots
leak down
through
your veins
pollute and
inflame
the muscles
with stress.
the cars
must be
put away
sometime.
clear the roads,
wash the
state of them.
sit in
the absence,
and breathe.
Have you ever
been somewhere
And just thought,
“Oh my god,
I am actually
Losing my mind.
This is what
Releasing
The grip
On sanity
Feels like.”
—
I just did,
Watching two
[Insanely
Too] attractive
People
be In love
| All over |
Each other.
She took
Her hair
Out of
A bun And
locked tresses
Fell perfectly.
I left
the teapot
on
not hearing
it whistle
long enough
to burn it
again.
—
by the time
i remembered
i had to
pry its
hot metal
bottom
from sautered
spiral prison.
hope it
will
forgive me
[salvage
charless tasting
oatmeal water]
For forgetting
about it
while it
killed itself
on burner.
—
lying
in bed
i hear it
whistling
placebo;
[we could
have ruined
it this time]
A guilt
calloused
melody
of sorrow.
Whiskey
is always
there for you
when you
need it.
sometimes
i could use
a little
warmth
in my life.
it slides
into me
gracefully
no hidden
expectations
or motives;
its only
wants me
to feel
