on breath and airmy lips achefor your breath on my tonguethe air all around me is empty
welike the endless hazeof cigarette smokeon a friday nightlike the smiles and laughsof a thousand bitter girlsthat dance and make youwonder if they're realif you're reallike boys with their handsand their tongues andeyes that speak in a tongueyou don't understandbut he's gorgeous andyou're lonelylike a thousand bottles of liquorand the bitter taste it leaveswe are dyingwe are forever
worthwhiletired eyes and a sleepy smilei wonder if it'll be all worthwhile
on panic attacks and anxietyhow many times doesshe have to kiss yousoftly andhold you tighthow many times doesshe have to whisperit's okit's okit's okhow many timesbefore your mind stopsaching and yourbody stops shaking
lipsi kissed lipsthat hurtwhen they smiledand lied throughtheir teeth
broken things beauty has always existedand i see it everywhereeven in broken thingsand that either makes meincredibly luckyor extremely sad
shotyou saidyou're black and bluebut bulletproofand youtold me to shoot
On smiles in veins i want to get highon your smileand pour your words rightinto my veinskeep talking babeyou are keeping me alive
youi give into youquietly
and we'll rotoh, poet boy,you are notthumbed bruisesor honey bones& you have onlyever been a godinside of your own head
.sooner or later,the tooth fairy picks up ahammer and chisel
.the cat keepsleaving dead meaton my doormat,a pile of bones,bloody and rawhe wants me toknow what i'mwalking into, hewants me to knowjust what i am
.and they knew,they knew i'd gone -when they found me outside crouchedwith a string box and stick, singingi'm going to catch me my death,make him sick -now i sit in a gown that is whiterthan white, doesn't suit me,this ghost to myself -on the corridor bench with my kneestucked in under my chin, rattlingwith green yellow blue(i've told you, i know where i'm going)
plague-bodiedi am a body of rat bones,a post-panic attack,(muscle) memory tofester - the travesty& specter, spectaclein gold boots, bloody nose,cut-throat.& don't youdare touch me;i am eight months into dying.
hospital boy.my doctors took your name and bottled it upin a plastic orange cylinderand told me to swallow one utterance dailyas needed.the ignorant lot,they forget i'm prone tooverdosing.
.if thesewalls couldtalkthen i'm surethey'd bescreamingget out,burn usdown,we can'tbearto hold youanylonger(been too busy dreaming to get any sleep)
things that fall apart2:36, new york city, i canimagine youlooking out your window,watching the cars pass by instead of the waves, andsomething isn't right, because there's ocean in your blood andi anchor you.love,you still believe in the girl i used to be, butshe's been gone longer than this white sky summer.
death-makermyknucklessplit like myspeech; iam the demigod,the pill box,the cat's third life,i am:fool's gold, fool'stragedy.i woke like psychosisto the house fire,missing my mania &wistful wiltingbody likedelusions
advice for a stranger do things to regretthem in the morningthen sleep until noon