i wonder if my suicide attempt did in fact **** me
and this is hell.
with each one, it seems to get worse.

time always moves backwards and then suddenly it’s forward.
i live in my memories. flashbacks. nightmares.
nightmares if i sleep at all.
and when i don’t, the friends behind my ear
keep me company.
the roommates in my head drown me
and blur my vision.
i feel red in my eyes when i get this way.
the stars fall like the burning fireballs they are
and the screams are unbearable
and the cries are aching
and my heart is being pulled out of my chest
like flowers off its root.
when i’m this way, i’d rather die.

parties isolate me.
loneliness swallows me in screaming and begging.
how did i get this way?
i don’t want it.
take it from me.
maybe then i’ll be able to live happy.

my finger is saturn
and your brown ring wraps around it
how the ring grips my finger
i’ll camp with the stars
and you’ll be held by me
we’ll tug on each other’s heart
and watch the stars shower the suburban streets
we’ll sit on the skateboard
with cigarette stains on skin
and your hair between my fingers
and that sunset kiss

i’ll ride the inbound train to boston
and we’ll kiss when i get there
you say “i love you” like a promise
you say “i love you” like a prayer

the cigarette taste on your lips: bitter bitter bitter
if you leave, i’ll forever live with the tan line on my finger

There’s a river in the woods
I bathe in it at night
I walk barefoot on the earth
I’m seduced by the moonlight
This is what a derelict does
We dance in rivers and let it push us to its rhythm
Someday I’ll reach the waterfall
And I’ll fall lissom

Your eyes are impure
Made sully but tender by the wandering eyes of others
Emboss your body with their words
Push your legs through water, rise from the sea
Eat men like air, run your fingers through your hair
But you’re no Hercules
You’re no hercules

Bite the souls of others
And demolish your own

I haven’t been writing recently
I’ve been living life
Under stars that will soon decay or destroy everything in its sight
I’ve been sleeping in grass and climbing to roofs
I’ve been drinking although I hate the taste of *****

I’ve been traveling the world through thoughts and dreams
I’m lost for words
That’s why I haven’t wrote

I’m wild at heart
And every word I write has my heart laced into it

But lately I’ve been calm
And at peace
And in temporary nirvana

I haven’t been writing
I write for closure
Though my life is at war
I am at peace

there’s a peculiar beauty to watching the world catch fire and living in the centre of flames
there’s an off-tone to the rose-colored glasses suddenly turned gold
the form of my waxed wings devouring my existence
what if singing sirens called me to the deceitful sea?
what if i was the sun to my own wings lingering in vulnerability to myself?

there’s a strange state in the air: the wither of life and the aching of death pushing my shoulders to sea
my cold, cold shoulder i turned against my father

there’s some truly pixelated gold surrounding my presence as the hotel my soul adopted falls to the trenches of the water

i fall in love with the in-between of life and death for a second or two or five

my arms flew and swung wide as my life was mapped and completed
i bounced with laughter
and i sunk into the swinging sea with great gaiety

and all of my flames were put out in an instant

the ivy wrapped tight
around my fixated arm
it swallows me whole