Tuesday, July 14, 2009

back bruises

pull yourself together
cos you're falling apart
emerging on the inside
cos the outside is getting dark

touching touching touching
like a babe without a care
my skin crawls with your acid
when we lie together bare

your lips are lined with parentheses
i trace with my scarred hands
baby, won't you stay with me
as we melt into the sand

what the fuck was this about,

i taste it as it inches down my throat
but it's just so hard to cope
it chains me
holds me to the past

again
i knew the warmth wouldn't last

Friday, July 3, 2009

boys

soft white flesh
rips me to pieces
angles entangled
sweat in the creases

and you pass
from mouth to mouth
stifled cries can't get out

press it in you
pull it out
grinding metal
sparks
a spout

the man always thinks he wins
but her heart is empty with a grin

Sunday, June 21, 2009

cotton shooter

licking your plate dry
picking up pennies on the street
reusing dryer sheets for weeks
potato chip crumbs from the bottom of the bag

embarrassing
but filled with smiles

the dropper

be my professional decision maker
turn this life around
pick the point where i should turn
run it into the ground

i cry all the time
in every way
but your cries make me ill

same fucking thing
day after day
wake up
light up
walk away

please decide which piece is next
which filthy, sandaled step
or choose the wild card deposit
your depraved throbbing bail

cravings
never stop
red ink
always clots

ending

a purse of her lips with a raspberry tinge
and a galaxy of pores stretch over skin
dirt and grime are wiped away
but the feeling is there to stay

crumbling smiles at his pain
the muscles pull at one corner
a man's tears can warm her
or so he thinks

it's just a reaction
a defense mechanism

Monday, June 8, 2009

pills

psychology is my religion
with narcissistic pain
with endless repetition
digging back to the beginning

a rosary of SSRIs
a hopeful prayer of lies

it's legal meditation
such a change for me
in a medicated nation
dying to be free

my holy father comes
his blinding light has won

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

white weekend warrior

it's a cold night in january
what a negative number at 13 degrees
a numb pinky toe, a bruised knee
all that matters to me

a hollow knock on a metal door
an invite to come in for more
we head upstairs, up the salty floor boards
to our substance, our whore

and she gives me green for brown
sharp presents present themselves
voices downstairs are too damn suspicious
40ccs and some of that stuff
break it down

only on the weekends, oh
only on the weekends, oh
life is bad enough as it is
i don't want to lower the bar
but it's staring at me and my filthy arm
only on the weekends

god i wish i had a joint now
inhale the sweet smoke down
but all i can feel, all i can do...
open my eyes and apologize