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.
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
A sprinkler
full of acid
Looks
just like
a sprinkler.
running
through;
the contents
eat down
to my bones
and
then some.
Craves a
fucking salad.
chop me up
and throw
me into
your mouth,
crunch down
on me
and swallow
eating me
will not
nourish you
[but that
isn’t what
you’re
going for]
sweetheart,
i will not
make you
beautiful
but you
will love
me for it.
—
i wonder
if you do
not mean
to touch
and hold
like it is
just
something
to do with
your hands.
grab anyone
near by
like, life raft;
gasping for
attention.
the current
pool
r i s i n g
UP
to the
bottom of
your chin;
Lift on
tiptoes
STRAINING
to stay
above
surface.
—
But,
what
are
you drowning
IN
[sense-deprive
produced
overdrive?]
time feels
more
vaccumous
then death
There
in the
seconds
before
suffocation.
like
anticipation
could kill
you
first.
—
“I want to
touch you,”
she did
not say
So he
did not
hear.
—
[one
made of
ice
cannot
touch
another
of fire]
she
traces
just
outside
his
circumference,
steps
b a c k
when his
flickers
s w a y
her way;
melting
just enough
to know
what
warm
feels like.
