If I'm being honest
which does not come naturally for the wasted
I miss my late night compatriots.

There is something so inviting about the void.

It's not easy on the outside.
It's so warm in oblivion and
out here you have to constantly remind yourself
that you're going to be ok
even though you have no idea
what in the world you are doing
and it could all fall apart at any moment
and you could always give up and
go back to garbage
walking the land drunk and
muttering to yourself.

All these rose colored memories
weigh black on your ribs
as these average everydays are eternally
the monotony of
same.

And you never have anywhere to put it.
I may try to give it to you
and you may try to give it to me
but it is all entirely our own
and we sleep uneasily because of some perceived
existing or impending
misery.

Sober, you remember what it feels like to lose
and peek inside of coffins,
that life is eventually
lifeless
and you struggle to leave behind something meaningful
while at the same time
succeeding
and your true idea of success looks a lot different
than you probably imagined
and you would live alone, naked, and
sick of it all
but you can't bear the thought of never hearing another
heart







beat.






Living to die
a pile of bones on a barstool
or first class accomodations
does it even matter which?

Dead in tatters or tiaras
is dead all the same
and there is momentary comfort in
the
void.

Birthday cake.

The miracle of doing laundry at midnight.

Heart full

hands full

all cotton

no cups.

Dreaming of Paris and

meaning it.

Earning the take and

keeping it,

So many more inspired days

than sullen ones

clouds in shot glasses.

Four months alive.

For once I'd actually pass

the piss test

but they don't want it anymore.

2 bed 1 bath

Listening to Damien Rice

you perched precarious

atop faux granite countertop

lecturing me on Plath

two full glasses of wine

two packs of cigarettes

smoking our throats raw

trying to feel it all at once.

Then we'd go to bed

and I would take your clothes off

and you always looked good like that

and I would pull you into my mouth

and your back would arch in the moonlight

and in the living room

undeterred

Damien played on.

For M

You're the most beautiful person I've ever met.

You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I'm all kinds of glad that

you are you and you are

in my

life.

After the initial joy subsided

Who is he?

Where does he go,
what does he do?

Whose clothes are these
and whose shoes?

These colors aren't right
and the fit isn't right.
Who bought the thing,
and why?

The streetlight is on
the fire has gone out
its finally calm and
the receding waters
give up the captive land.

The linens are pressed
and the bed made,
the recycling is sorted
and he forgot to say

"Good girl"

when lobbed an easy one.

Now its for the better.

Now its for the better.

What a shame it took so long.

Sometimes dark,
darkly gentle,
they can say it in eights and sixteenths
and tell my whole life.

Sitting by the pool
feet dangling above the depths
high as a heron
telling you I have a secret.

In the bathroom smiling
mouth on mouth
your chemical tongue so soft,
finishing me,
bringing me to my final hour.

Washing your back,
your black hair draped over the curve of your hand
I taste the water on your skin
run my hand between your legs
press into the ink
and you write your story on my hands.

Sitting on a pillow surrounded,
always surrounded,
by desperate, searching,
wanting faces.
I can't take it.
I'm melting into the floor
they're all gone forever.

Raleigh of the final four years.

Skin is real
sweat is real
not knowing what to say
feeling alone sometimes
is real.

No powder
no glass
no additive
no burn.

Air is real
sky is blue
blue and real.
Real sun
real heat
real steps.

Wanting to feel it is real
wanting to taste it is real
wanting to be inside of you is real
being okay without it
is real.

Seeing a future
is real.

Having a future
is real.

Being here now
is
real.

I walked home under the purple sky and I thought
how I'd like to take a walk at sunset with you
and all the ones who came before you
just once,
one more time to say it sober
to get it right as right as could
to answer the finality
finally
me.

Through this crystalline lens I find
that my thoughts have changed
my heart has changed
I am change.
I am equal parts blessing and
I don't know what I saw in you.

I want to set it all free
and let thirty years melt away
like the streets of London in summer
and hide from them my face
and turn toward the escaping
star
as it slips below the horizon
and finally puts the matter all
to
bed.