Friends, without benefitswe are not friends,
friends don’t share
one heart, one mouth.
and friends walk in parallel lines,
brushing knuckles not
hipbones and I keep wishing
on the shooting stars
splintering in your eyes for us to be
friends but each time you sigh into my shoulder
how you need this, how you need
me, somehow it almost seems enough,
it almost seems like we are more
than friends but darling -
we are not friends, not even close
and we are not more or
less we just
MiracleYou said Jesus knows my soul
is yellow as this road;
and the boats in the channel
keep my head clear
while I watch him
drown my sister's dog again.
He calls it baptism -
a miracle of science.
He says I do not need a calendar
or a parent's love
to find Him
on the weak and narrow
and that solace
is a good, strong bread
left in the poor box
every Sunday morning.
But I like to pretend
He keeps his Dodge 57
on my lawn,
turning up the daisies.
We can drive it
all the way to Memphis
on one tank of gas...
stains you left behindThe ring of tea from the bottom of your mug
Is all that I have left,
Memories of you have gone.
Stains are all that are left.
Permanent reminders to me that,
Every waking hour of my day,
I should have loved you,
Maybe then these stains would have washed away.
I killed something beautiful,
Stripped it naked and left it
In the cold to slowly freeze
Nightmares creep in the day light
And stab me in the back at night,
My screams echo in the moonlight,
All I can do is cry.
Your tea stain on the table,
I sit beside it and weep
With my new best buddy Smirnoff,
He helps me get to sleep.
I finally lost my job,
Now I’m living on the streets.
They said something about alcoholism,
I don’t know what they mean.
I’ve taken up the needle,
Helps me pass the time.
Got some new friends now
But every night I cry until I’m blind.
Just got out of prison,
People say I have no hope left.
I still scream at night, thinking about yo
Pretty boys aren't so pretty at nightin the nights when I cannot find sleep,
when dreams elude me,
you whisper meaningless things into the
crook of my neck, stealing glances at my
collarbone, robbing the room of silence
you tell me
“You have the constellations in your eyes
The moon in your mouth”
and you thieve my fingers as your own,
bending and curling them around yours
you tell me
“Don’t write poetry about me,
Don’t write me in as the monster of your nightmares”
in the nights when I cannot close my eyes
for fear of the shadows lurking between us and
the floor, between your teeth
you breathe heavily, taking my oxygen and leaving
me breathless, panicking in the dark between
satin sheets and in your easy dreaming
you tell me
“You are the product of your genetics
Your father is stowed within your skull,
Within your fist”
and my lucid memories
are the only thing you do not steal
you tell me
“I am yours and you
but the emphasis feels
uneven, and I am not
Superlative smiles.I watched her leave,
On a rainy Sunday evening,
When even the air tasted grey,
And my fingers slowly turned blue,
As my mind cast back,
To the first thing
I ever wrote about you;
Back when your smile wasn't false,
when your eyes glittered anew every day,
And your hands still reached for mine.
She had a superlative smile,
That was never false,
And eyes that would pierce,
The devil himself,
So he would melt,
Under her grey loving eyes,
'till there was nothing left,
But his disguise
I watched her leave,
And as the light faded,
Her smile fell,
Piece by piece,
And the devil claimed
What was never his to take.