Answer

I say goodbye because I have to and because I'm tired of being your crutch
I say goodbye because the binging and purgeing isn't so romantic anymore
I say goodbye because I can.

I miss you the way you used to be, toes curled up and contacts out
I miss your bitten fingernails and buddha belly and hairy toes
Remember accidental candles?
I miss your cookie job as the mixer
I miss antisocial cuddle sessions

Too long, I've been here too long
stayed through too much, cried for so little
The instant I say goodbye I breathe, an expansion of ribs and organs and I'm alive
You killed me very quietly, sneaky like you are
You tiptoed over my traps and sank (victorious) into my favorite chair
(you thieved that too)

I say goodbye because I want to live
without you
I say goodbye because I'm no longer obligated to say
good morning

in with the love, out with the jealousy

jealousy have swallowed me whole,
this monster is gnawing on my insides,
take every vital organ away from me
little nibbles at a time.
Oh please, please take these
suspicious thoughts from my pea brain.
i pray that you cant see the ugly green in my eyes,
i cant help the red specks on my cheeks.
you relay to me that its stupid,
quit acting like a stupid bit..
a quick slap in the face,
reality check here.
get your head on straight,
rewind that clock back to a normal state
take a deep breath with every step
in with the love, out with the jealousy

Shattered

I'm remembering the day I told you you could keep me
Looked you dead in the eye and lied that I'd stay around
I'm remebering nights of touching and holding and learning
and new
I knew I loved you
knew from the first time I heard you laugh
it spilled like sugar onto a cupcake
like ages of tape being unwound from an 8-track
and backing up to when my heart was a virgin
I was a virgin with you
I hold your face in the palms of my mind
see you in every picture at night that tricks me into thinking
you're here
lover you're here.
in that picture frame that held our lips and the fan that you left on
I smell your skin every time I curl that pillow around my wounded heart
every breath I take is stolen from a wish
a dream
when I was your victory
you were my trophy my triumph over myself
I break my fall every day with your prison bed
I set myself free so you can feel through me what it's like
to have wings
you were my first cup of home made coffee
a brand new that could never get old
a new pair of shoes that went through the washer every day just to be able to look and say
baby I knew
I knew from the first shirt you wore and the way you ran
that we had a marathon to do
I knew how to learn my curves and fit them to you
Baby.
I see your stripes and you memorized my scars
tell me a scar story
Tell me where I'm from, and howcome when I come
to you
There's butterflies and unwrapped candies and cliff divers
There's a hole
an orface in the softest part of my heart where your body used to lie
curled up that way you do and I used to fit too
I used to fit too
And show me God, tell me how you met him how he tugged on your chain
Did you give Him my best
did you remember to tell him I'm sorry for giving this time away
If I gave you my ache would you find a place in the attic to store it until winter
when the flowers are gone and I need a way to remember this day
I've been opening presents I don't want and holding hands I can't touch
speaking truths and feeling lies never ever forgetting
your eyes
your chocolate eyes
tell me why do I breathe in your tears every time I say goodbye
why do I even try to say goodbye

Remeber your face the rest of my life

I saw a girl at Barnes and Noble,
She took my breathe away for the 4th time in my life.
She said "excuse me",
It was the second conversation we'd ever had.
She introduced her self once before but I don't remeber her name,
Just the tatto of a snake across her lower back.I wonder if she knew me,
or the shocked look on my face

Since I Die Daily, Daily Mourn.

Here, on fingertips, death resides

here, the anguish doth not subside

heavy with such mystery

falsehoods of such alchemy.

Enter death, an eternal breath,

to capsize youth and end distress

fortitude be yours, O sultan,

without a wince, you bring the silence from within.

Thou art the work of holy men

with little insight from within.

An auspice thou protest

so quickly, thou must lie to rest!

Hesitate not, in mine eyes thou

art fair and generous

granting mystery to the gangrenous

and wealthy alike!

O sultan, O sultan!

deliver from this world to thine

a message for those left behind

Faustian letters do remind

of days of old.

O sultan! O sultan!

here I lie upon the zenith of death

coffins for my eternal rest;

at my behest, my arms criss-cross my chest

upon my lips, a whisper of farewell.

Goodnight princess. Goodnight, my queen.

~.

Love,

Digress.

Forget writing, i lost it

we bleed without integrety,
And induce like celebrities,
we're paying for amenities,
as their stealing our identities
The clock stops, hesitating,
debating the moments its been creatiting and displaying,
Time waits,Unsparing,
Imparing the thoughts of preparing and staring.
defeat in my feet, and the concrete that they meet.
Trying to leave but your kiss makes me weak.

Te Amo

Is it sensible that pain can clense
purge
So many mixed tantrums float through the atmosphere
Breathe in. out. in. out. 10. 10. one...two...three.....ten
Ballsy
Chip on my shoulder.
You got it babe.
Broken like my words. thoughts. feelings.
I was ready
turn and walk, no talk, no tears, no words.
people, like natural disasters, have a way of drawing observers
Change change change
NEVER
I want you how I want you
But not forever
I wish
I'd let you go on forever
pero....mi familia
por favor mi amor, no mas. por favor.
I'd paint you away, secrets are better kept

Tribute.

With haste, the kiss we taste

strewn upon this bed are we

and that is how I shall forever see

shimmering gems of brown identity

along your body run the streams of time

slowly, I trace your outline

from head to toe

your touch is enough to sew together

internal feelings I cannot eschew

I stir, I plot, I seek a view

parting of lips force one to two.

Pound at my keys,

I am your harpsichord,

sounds sharper than the sword,

upon your mantel I shall rest

and the world I detest

until, again, I can invest

in carrying out your behest.

You witch--you siren--

coaxing me into oblivion;

under your spell, I have no decision,

but pursue your passion with precision;

enchanted, I am, by your beauty and poise

alchemise a lust potion--no!

your philtre bringeth pure devotion.

Here be we,

a genius of sweet alchemy,

and a man of great cacophony.

~Hansel und Grettle.

Love,

Digress.

1812 Overture.

Here, the lines are drawn

soldiers sing the battle song

'tis not the time for turning back

upon the field, creeds shall impact.

Down the line, the orders run

blazing blades in handfuls of sun

armour shimmers between the clouds

blood weighs heavy on these boughs.

Prepared, are we and thou not be

able to respond aptly to our victory

war brought by providence

'tis mine will o'er thine dominance.

For freedom the titans fight

clad in red, blue, and white

muskets and swords for what we want

for fire gives what the pen cannot!

Steady on steeds, we fight the decree

of those who built this colony

stand ready men; do not falter

for this land is of thine father.

Clutch the hilt and be not weak

the blade, blood, it shall seek

we will collide with destiny

out of death comes our victory.

Decimate and then some more

make them feel a ruddy sore;

little mercy at the trigger

for we shall bring the fire on thicker.

And in the night we shall war too

our aim and sight be true

until our goal is reached;

our governors impeached!

~Seventeen-seventy-when?

Love,

Digress.

Howl At The Blood Moon.

I set my top-hat down

on your

bed.

I walk into the room

with a grin made

of bullets.

Heretofore, I was your

enemy;

henceforth,

I am your friend.

Now the lead

is buried.

I let robins

in your

bedroom.

I break your mirror.

Love,

Digress.

Looking Indubitable

It is good

to sit

here on

my stoop

thinking about

litigation;

listening

to the neighbourhood

settle

into the

first clam

night of

spring.

And as I

take

another swig

of

the saké,

the neighbours

return

from a birthday dinner.

They carry in

a case

of beer.

Maybe

I'll be social tonight.

~Believe me.

Love,

Digress.

Only A Coffee Shop.

Hanged.

Shot.

Ambushed.

Drowned.

This is

self-destructive

at 

least I am

teaching myself.

I'll teach

you too.

While the

world is flooded and

the people

are ambushed,

there is

little

to do

but

wait.

We will

always be

waiting to be

Drowned.

Ambushed.

Shot.

Hanged.

~Celebration City.

Love,

Digress.

You are my assasin

Walk all over me, stomp that heel and turn that *click*
Baby when you hurt me it fulfills me
It reminds me that I'm the better person because...
I'd never do half this s*** to you.
You bring out the best Christ figure I've ever seen,
a martyr....a masochist
God, what I wouldn't give to throw you into my heart, let you drown in our misery
What I wouldn't give to hear you say you're sorry.
And you love me.
I don't wanna hear her name I don't wanna see her face...next to your soul....too close
You drag me down down down with you, and I go willingly
because baby we belong together
you'll see.
One day you'll wake up and see me sleeping and realize
how much you love me, you need me
I set the dull throb to a Katy Perry song and it sooths, like hydrogen peroxide on an infection
You're like pulling out a porcupine quill
like walking through the desert in bare feet and climbing cactus
....like piercing my tongue with a safety pin, snorting fire ants, chewing tin foil
You're the worst person with the best intentions I'll ever know. God I love you.
I'm your puppet, baby....
cut my strings.

Let me tell you about my hands

They all hurt. All 8 of them. Each with to knuckles crying for an ice pack to alleviate the throbbing pain of this morning’s consciousness. I hesitate on their dying plea and make fists, assessing the extent of which I felt like my life was over last night. The blood stains leading down my right palm to my pillow case prove that he was the one that questioned my ability to feel alive last night, but clearly after he could take no more punishment his brother stepped in to take the finals blows before I passed out awkwardly on my kitchen floor. It’s euphoric to feel the pain creep up my arms to my elbows. I learned a while back that it’s easier to make excuses for broken fingers than for cuts on legs that a just a little too straight. And besides, every bump every day reminds me that for some reason I still love you more than you will ever know. I think about writing the brick walls and wooden fences a thank you note and laugh. Thank you for all the times you have been there for me. Thank you for being strong when I am weak. Thank you for never breaking down on me. It makes me happy to know that all my life cement walls will be with me to pick me up when I’m down. Realizing my fingers have nearly convinced my eyes to cry, and my mouth to scream I wearily open my freezer door. I grab the bag of frozen peas and ice pack and feel relieved as they numb my knuckles back into nothing.

why it doesnt matter whats in the glass

“He doesn’t love you.”

“Shocker.”

“Then why do you bother?”

She spun around on the stool and shrugged her shoulders. Her dispassionate eyes suited her apathetic tone. “Maybe I just do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She looked down the bar at an old man hunkered over a whiskey sour, staring hopelessly into it like he was search for something. “It’s better than nothing, that’s what it’s supposed to mean.”

“But it isn’t significant.”

“But it isn’t nothing.”

She grabbed her messenger bag and dropped a couple bills next to an empty glass, looking back down at it. “You know why that glass is empty?”

“Because it’s not half full.”

“Exactly. Something isn’t empty or half-full because it’s missing something. It’s that way because you drank it, which is better than watching it sit there staring back at you. It doesn’t matter what it’s half of if you never drink it.”

“I see.”

“No you don’t.” She said, grabbing a tattered brown jacket. “But maybe someday you will.”

Then she sauntered freely out of the bar. But that lack of weight on her shoulders was also because she had nothing to weigh her down. I didn’t know whether to pity her or applaud her.

I am more than this.

Too often I find myself huddled in an overly hushed basement, garage, backyard, caught up in a mess of vodka shots, second hand smoke, and a few puffs of something quality that everyone will hit but me. I make up for the lack of a high with a few more pulls from the handle. And soon I grab onto that oh so familiar landing. The one where I can rest my feet comfortably, although a bit wobbly. My mind is gone, so I feel safe. It's not me that's moving, speaking, thinking, so I can relax. There's no way any of you could judge me in this state. So I continue.

It usually hits me about an hour in. I need someone. I need to feel someone's presence close to my body even if it's just a messy fumbling around behind the blackened end of a bathroom door. I need someone here with me. Because I am not. Because I left myself somewhere between the liquor run and the seventh game of flip cup. So I need someone to reassure me. 

Touch me, say my name. That's all I ask of you. Remind me of who I am, who I forced myself not to be and tell me that I'm beautiful and I'm all you want. I'll eat it up with every slur of your syllables. I will take you in and drown who I think I am inside of you.

And then I wake up and feel nothing again. I am back to myself. Just a little headache that a few hours of sleep can fix. I forget my alter ego, the exuberant. I take a deep breath and realize that I wasn't myself. It was her last night, she let her guard down, she gave up her morals. Not me. I would never do that. 

But how long will it take for me to use up the last of her, and have nothing left but myself...

You were meant for me

I lay on the bathroom floor until all the midnights for a month after you left me. Pushing my forehead into the cold, dingy white tile, I wondered why you'd gone, where the redeeming quality was, where the sun was hiding. I'd finger my pink baby blanket mom had wrapped me in as a child but took no comfort for it. There was no consolation prize for this and I didn't really understand what God was trying to teach me when he closed the door behind you and locked all the windows. The only thing that worked when it was supposed to was the plumbing in that clammy bathroom. After I hugged the lid with frail fingers, the toilet, though it did so reluctantly, flushed. Though it came through rusted pipes, the water always found its way to my tired body. Those things worked, why couldn't I?

It would be so much easier if there had been a "why" to go with a "what" but I suppose there are some questions that don't have their answers. For every marvel there is a mystery. It was a small but brutal mystery that left me alone on that bathroom floor every night, pulling up my shirt and looking down at exposed ribs, following them down to a scarred stomach. The worst part was there were scars but no you. My body had proof you'd been there, proof you'd existed. Somewhere inside I knew it. But the world showed no record of you. You weren't there in my apartment,waking me up in the middle of the night wailing like some sort of siren to break my tranquility. You weren't there. Instead I just had this scary, unaffected, silence in your place. I knew you were there somewhere, had been there somewhere. My body knew it. My scars proved it. But as far as the world was concerned you were just a pocket of silence, a blank silence that had never really been there.

I lay on that bathroom floor every night until midnight for a month, just trying to remember the golden locks that I'd never comb, the first words that would never be spoken, the kindergarten graduation I'd never attend, the milk that would never be spilled. Then I realized. Hearts are broken every day and mine isn't the only one chained to the bathroom floor, swaddled in a pink baby blanket where perhaps somebody else ought to be. So that thirty-first night, I got up and went into the bedroom and turned on Letterman. You had been in there somewhere once, tucked securely beneath my heart. I had the scars to prove it. Maybe the world forgets the lost too easily in its eagerness to pick up latenight talkshows and turn the channel to afternoon sitcoms. But all the same you can only swim against the stream for so long before your body fails and it sweeps you along with it. Wherever you'd gone I couldn't follow and you can't hold on to a hand that isn't there. It wasn't time to let you go. There is never a time or place for that sort of thing. But either way, at some point I had to do it. At some point I had to get lost in the television and let somebody else do the talking.

If You Need Some Cheering Up.

Looking in the mirror

never hurt

so much.

I think about

shaving my head with

a straight-bladed razor

and

pulling out

all of

my teeth,

one

by

one

with

a pair

of

needle-nosed pliers.

I think about how it

would feel;

looking down into

that sink;

blood, teeth, and

hair

against the white porcelain of 

the sink,

and a pair

of rusty

needle-nosed pliers

on the counter.

and I think about

breaking bridges,

burning pencils,

and

the way people look in 

convertibles

with the top

down.

they are ambiguous

at

best.

~I've got this feelin'. grab some synthetic hair.

Love,

Digress.

Watson Did The Work.

focused on the wrong

turns

and babies fall backwards

from 

staring at cases

of books.

industrial areas

with rent

higher than

the cost of living

will allow.

we paid for

that,

we'll pay for this

.

i fork over the cash

and

they spoon over the

protection;

it's never enough

it's actually

too much

and

never effective.

i pass the

doughnuts around

the room

they take

slow

bites

and feel

out of

place in their

desks.

it isn't a cafeteria,

it won't

ever be

.

i mostly annoy the

people whom

sit next

to me

.

they ask me

to be

quiet;

i only discuss the proper

answers

and get

laughed at quite often

for wanting

it all

to be corrected, or

debated

.

they'll hopefully

never

understand.

but, maybe

someday,

you will

~Wrong the second time.

Love,

Digress.

Son of a...

Born with a big mouth,

Brought up with an even bigger opinion,

Decent from great minds,

History runs in my blood,

From the slave trade to Hitler.

212 degrees, boiling point never felt so hot.

My blood boils,

Heat the moment.

Race,

Sex,

Orientation.

Shut your big mouth girl.

Congested, stuffy nose like.

As stubborn as I am,

I have weak knees for a good arguement.

Straight edge for the right answer.

I need to "watch it."

Everyday conversation anymore-

Anymore with me is censored.

Always worried about being "politically correct."

Anything with the slightest slip...

POOF!

Men, women, childeren,

Race of every kind.

Empowers my brain.

Takes over my body,

Hatred for races.

I hate gay pride.

CENSOR!

Not a conversation topic,

Not to be discussed at work.

"I'm sorry, you're fired."

Shut your big mouth girl.

Opinions aside,

Hatred away...

But, but wait-

I can't call you the

Bleep word...I would be raciest

You can call me a bleep word-

My people in-slaved you-

Fists up,

White power,

No, no, no!

Not at the employment office!

If I knew what was good for me...

Dang, I'd still have a job.