She's gone.

I would NEVER want to live forever, I explained,
as I would see everyone else die.
my lovers,
my brother and sisters,
my children,
my childrens children.

Watching them grow up and slowly down again and then
all of them, put into the dirt
headstones like flowers.
headstones like we never got out of here.

Everyone else gets out, as my life slows to its stop.
Never thinking I'd end up living and dying in the same place,
it clicks like a camera.
Or the memory of your shoes walking down the hallway toward the door.

It's really gone this time.

Friend, I could jump into the Atlantic and no one would ever hear from me again.
The ground is crumbling beneath us, it already looks as though GOD
may have been clawing at the hillside to reach us, as I think-


I need to get out of here, or we'll end up drunk for another 3 years.
I know you have been crawling in and out of bed with your new lovers
I know that they're probably better than me
in life and looks.
Meanwhile
I can't live or look at you.
It's really gone this time:
the feeling of splendidness
the orange days.
the gigantic stumbling of us towards the beat-up farmhouse.
I hope you find what you're looking for.
I tried.
But I never want to hear from you again.

Be A Man (roses)

I fucked up.
I tried to be a gentleman, paying for your cab back,
maybe holding doors once in awhile
but there's much more to it than that.
It's about BEING a man every once in awhile.
It's about not drinking
not taking drugs.
I'm a coward, I'm such a coward.
I'm hiding from you and from myself and from the only people who care if I live or die.
I'm scaring everyone and I can't stop I can't stop, I can't stop.
I'm sorry but it's the only thing that keeps her away from me.
I've made more than my fair share of mistakes but
I would have never dreamed i could have hurt you making them.
I built this room of bullshit around myself
and it's all caving in at the same time.
I can't stop until it stops hurting
and it won't stop hurting until I stop.

Thank you, Megan!

"Thank you, Megan,
Thank you so much!!!"
Slipping the 6 prescription pills into my trembling hands.

Moments like these are hard to come by.
This sick desperation,
these star-struck eyes.
I know that some make me happy
and some make me just not care.
But it's funny, at this late night hour
it's actually the blue ones
that make me not feel so blue.
93 on top of
833,
thank god for you
playing god for me.

"Religion is the Opiate of the Masses"
This mass of opiates is my own religion.

The Attack

we had it.
we had it then.
it flew oh my god it flew high above us
and tunnelled beneath.
it attacked from both sides.
it kept us awake at least it kept me awake
i saw it come at you, snarling.
i thought it had us cornered and
i decided to throw myself in front, (id never want to see you hurt.)
but when it bit me,
when that MOTHER FUCKER
BIT ME
i bled everything before it
and have bled everything since.


love.

Bullet

it is early
i'm alone.
mom sleeps,
dad sleeps
everyone can get some rest but me.
waiting for a bullet
waiting for a girl
(same thing)
that could stop my heart
slowly
slow
ly
sl
owly
until i can almost feel her in the slow way
that the world spins under me.
hell, she is the world spinning under me.
but at least night and day work the world in regular intervals.
with that in mind,
i lay down and just wait for the bullet.
and i'm sure that she can sleep.

The PhoneBooth

In the phone booth again,
as it fogs
and my rain-slicked hand reaches
for the balls it takes to call you.
It rings.
(Where are you?)
Again.
(Come on.)
Again.
(Please)
Again.
Then nothing.
They say real love goes on forever
but I just don't have it in me anymore.
Now, I wish on anything I can.
I ask to be shot.
I ask for the correct amount of powder.
I ask for a car crash.
Fuck, yes,
even a car crash would be more bearable.
Staring straight down, I open the doors,
cross the street, and let it start again.
If you cried reading this,
I cried louder writing it.
On nights like these,
I'm afraid I'm gonna be alive
a lot longer than I'm dead.

Sick.

It is late June, humid,
and I am absolutely dopesick with love.
I drink whatever will do the job
to get my mind from her.
But good god i can not escape
what my life has become, is becoming
what it became on that night i held
her and said i'm sorry i'm sorry i love you
baby don't go.

It had happened though, between us.
It was there, I could have touched it.
When the morning comes, she is gone
and it is gone
the hangovers still there
and i guess i am too.

A Baby Is Coming

Drunk! Junkbox! Liar! Cheat! Thief!
Of course, he would never break a promise to a child
or even his pregnant sister
but would certainly kill anyone for them.
Big balloon belly about to burst
Baby girl, can not wait to meet you!
Praying she won't know about:
this life.
these sick dreams.
this holocaust.

As the stars blink off,
as the brakelights blink on (then off again!),
it all goes away.
He keeps the others for when things get REALLY bad.
On the top-shelf of his closet,
he opens the shoebox labeled "just in case".

Mornings

it's always worse in the mornings,
after dreaming of the simple things
we used to do.
(but that are always getting taken for granted)
you showed me the nicer side.
you were concrete, you were my shade before this.
big, hairy lumberjacks with ugly $$$
i hear them coming closer and
it hurts like
being up 7 minutes too early for the alarm
set to wake you for work.
it hurts even more like
taking your pictures down

amanda,
i don't doubt that you loved me
but i do doubt that you couldn't have loved
anyone else just the same.

i get trashed by the ocean
by the forest
and tell them about your beauty,
but now your absence.
i scream drunk at the sea,
at the trees.
i make fires
and try to send smoke signals up, up, up to god
or whatever we talked about that feels more comfortable
than the life i'm living now.

Oh my God

While the rest are:
eating, drinking, smoking,
pissing, shitting, fucking, fighting,
running to, running from, working,
calling (or being called),
living (sometimes), dying (always);
Here I am, FALLING in love again.