#51

Tuesday, December 31, 2013


"The problem with these people is they understand the obvious; the problem with these people is they understand their vices, not their faults"

Judge me as you smoke your life away
Tonight, you'll probably find yourself
Knelt in front of the altar of excess
Voluntarily expelling your bile
The same way you do while sober
And when the grand moment has come
I hope he tastes it on your lips
And I hope somewhere
Beneath numbing layers of
Self-denial, lies, rationalization, and drugs
    (see, we really are the same)
The part of you that knows he's wrong
Screams loud enough
That even the music and laughter can't block it out
This time I hope you listen
Though I know you'll watch yourself please him
Convinced that it's love
Because it fleetingly satisfies your hunger for acceptance
Vomit that out, too
For yourself
And start fasting
Hunger pangs get easier to deal with
    (or at least ignore)
With the passing of time
And eventually you'll find someone
Who will take away your hunger completely
It won't be me
   (though I still wish it was - my apologies)
But you'll find someone

...or, I hope you do
Because you deserve it
If only you'd try

#50

Monday, December 2, 2013

In bed
Our bodies -
Mirror images when face-to-face -
Fit together as we lay here
Fully clothed
Contours perfectly aligned

I kiss the vertebra at the base of your neck
And drift into sleep
Dreamless
Because nothing could be better than this
And awaking alone
I know nothing could be less likely

#49

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

I hate myself
and everything I write
(this included)
I regret every decision that led me here
and I just want this to be over


Thursday, November 21, 2013

So tired of caring
I don't want to feel
Why is my heart still beating?
I no longer have a use for it;
I died long ago

I wish I didn't care
About anyone
Anything
At all

I want a hard heart
A calcified stone
Buried beneath my ribs
Cool and unmoving

Or

I want to tear it out
And give it to you
As a gift or a burden
For you to do with as you see fit
Because you're the only one
I've ever wanted to have it
Even if you never give me yours in return

#48

Monday, November 4, 2013

Pre-exhaustion
Anticipating the stress of the upcoming months
Trying to keep my head where my hands are
Unable (unwilling?) to take the advice
That I so freely give to others
I am a sham
And all my thoughts are snake oil

#47

Sunday, November 3, 2013


Losing Daylight Saving

Gained an hour
Lost a life
Lost all power
Gained more strife
I was told exactly how I think
Now I have no ability to drink
Monochromatic mind
Limping, crawling, blind
Crutchless
Touchless
Static
With so much time

#46

Saturday, August 11, 2012 & Friday, October 18, 2013

I'm driving. It's completely dark except for the road illuminated by my headlights and the moon, which is slowly rising just to my left. It's impossibly close, and every time I blink, it changes colors. Bright yellow. Blink. Pale green. Blink. Deep maroon. Blink. Vibrant pink. Blink. Sickly blue. Blink. Vomitous orange. The constant changes are making me feel dizzy, like I'm about to pass out. I want to look at something else, but there's nothing outside my car except the road and the moon. Only void to both sides. There aren't even any stars, something that has just come to my attention.

I check the time, trying to remember when I started on this strange trip, but when I look at the clock, rather than numbers, it's simply flashing the word "END" over and over. I try to remember how long I've been driving, where I came from, where I'm going, but I find I can't recall anything. I don't even know where I am now.

In an effort to distract myself, I turn on the radio, but no matter what station I tune it to, all that comes out is a bassy hum so low it threatens to rip my car apart. I try to turn the bass level down, but rather than changing the hum, this brings a high-pitched, nasal voice into focus over the droning sound. The voice is speaking in a harsh language I don't recognize, though somehow I understand - possibly because of the cadence - that this is part of a religious ceremony. The voice stops momentarily, and a congregation of guttural voices responds in the same language. This is followed by a scream that is suddenly cut short. The scream is unmistakably human.

My hand snaps up to the radio dial to shut it off, and I see a cassette deck I hadn't noticed before. There's already a tape sticking out of it. The tape is jet black with a strange, lustrous coating over it. There's something etched into the top, but when I reach to pull it out for a better look, the deck quickly sucks the tape in of its own accord. I'm able to make out the first two letters - GO - before the tape disappears completely. Seconds later, I hear tape hiss and a slight clunking sound. Then, my voice. I'm saying:

August 10, 2012. Having weird dreams again. Dreamt last night that I was in an old, old mansion. I had this big pickaxe, and I was running around killing all these people with it because somehow I knew they were going to kill me if I didn't. The weird thing was, they didn't scream or try to stop me or anything. Their faces were blank, expressionless, even when I sunk the pickaxe into their chests. It's like they knew it was going to happen and were completely resigned to their fates. Also, there was no blood. The axe would make a hole, they'd slump to the ground, then their bodies would just... vanish. No trace whatsoever. And the entire time, there was maniacal laughter ringing throughout the mansion. I knew that was the person I was really there to kill. Finally, I turned a corner and saw him. He was dressed in an undertaker's suit, and his face was pale - too pale. I would have assumed he was wearing makeup, only the blood covering his face told me otherwise. He had a sadistic, malicious glint in his eyes, and he was still laughing. He never stopped laughing, even when I ran down the hall and split his forehead open, sending blood and skull fragments and bits of brain exploding into my face with impossible force. I pulled my axe out of his head and stared at his lifeless body. Somehow, the air still rang with his laughter - and not dying echoes of it, but still at the same volume as before.

I turned and ran back down the hallway, determined to leave as fast as possible, when I realized I was lost. I hurried down hallway after hallway, his laughter following me no matter where I turned. I blindly sprinted around a corner and almost barreled into someone. It was him. He looked exactly the same as he did when I first saw him. And he was still laughing. I raised my axe and again drove it straight into his head, once more being covered in an explosion of gore. This time I struck him in the chest and stomach multiple times before resuming my search for the exit. And still, his laugh stalked me.

It was only a matter of time before I found him again, and again I murdered him with a blow to the skull, this time painstakingly dismembering his corpse with my pickaxe. But his laugh continued to hunt me. This went on for hours, desperately trying again and again to destroy this seemingly unkillable foe. Finally, I screamed at him, "What do you want from me!?" Immediately he stopped laughing and beckoned me into a narrow side hallway that materialized out of nowhere. At the end of it sat a folding chair and a television tuned to a dead channel. He gestured toward the chair, and in my head a thousand voices simultaneously and simply said, "Sit."

I walked past him with trepidation, but he made no movement, only stood there, arm outstretched. I sat in the chair and noticed a VCR on the floor next to the TV, with the cables ripped from the back of it. There was a tape in the VCR, neon red in color. "Put it in," the thousand voices commanded me. I turned to see where he was standing, but saw nothing but a blank wall where the entrance to the hallway once was. I turned back to the VCR and nervously pushed in the tape. The screen flickered, then showed an image of the house where I grew up. It was night. Whoever was operating the camera was standing at the end of the driveway. Slowly, the camera operator began walking towards the house, peering between a crack in the blinds on the front window. No movement. After a few seconds, the operator moved to the front door. A hand reached out, grasped the doorknob, and turned it. The door opened.

The camera operator walked through my living room without a sound. One of my cats was sleeping on the couch. She awoke, yawned, looked directly at the operator, meowed softly, then went back to sleep - which was odd, considering she was normally terrified by anyone outside of my family. The operator walked into the hallway then pushed open the door into my parents' room. They were both in bed, sound asleep. The operator walked around their bed, examining them, as if to make sure they were deep in slumber. Seemingly satisfied, the operator backed out of their room, returned to the living room, passed through the kitchen, walked down the steps to the basement, then turned into my sister's room. Her bed was empty. This made sense, since her car wasn't in the driveway. The operator turned, walked back past the bottom of the steps, and headed towards my room. A large mirror sat on the wall outside my room with a nightlight above it which gave off just enough light for me to see that the reflection of the operator's build looked extremely familiar. Then the operator opened the door to my room. There I lay, fitfully sleeping in my bed, tossing back and forth, blankets askew. The operator picked up a pillow that had fallen beside my bed and dropped the camera.

I woke up screaming and had just enough time to catch a glimpse of myself standing over me, face contorted with a look of insane glee, before I felt the pillow violently shoved over my face, stifling my scream as it suffocated me. Everything went black.

#45

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Mind confounded
Twisted on itself with a
Lack of understanding
Despite your attempts at explanation
Ensnared by the barbed-wire knowledge of
What has gone on so far and
Trapped by the beautiful, terrifying black hole of unknowing
Created by our lack of communication
Absorbing all thought-particles
Regarding your state of intimacy
   (protons, electrons, neutrons)
Vomiting them back without purpose or rationale
Before swallowing them again
Its spinning only stopped by a surrender of control
One I must repeat over and over in a
Constant battle with my inner nature
Though one I seem to be gradually, if painfully,
Winning

#44

Wednesday, October 14, 2013

black coffee and white cigarettes
black ink and white paper
serious talks and stupid jokes
a prayer for serenity and a surrender of will
my only means of coping before
are the only ones i've ever needed

#43

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

I would give everything
To relive Saturday evening
So I could do anything but
Set out to destroy myself
I wish I never would have hurt you
Would never have hurt anyone
I just want to talk to you
Even though I was starting to make things awkward
(I'd like to undo that as well
because I understand now
that was the beginning of
another act of sabotage
that I'm afraid ended everything with you
once and for all)
Because as uncomfortable as it might have been
There's no way it's as bad as this
I don't know if you or I will ever recover from this;
From hurting you as much and as often as I did
I know I have to stay clear-headed
So I don't hurt you or anyone else again
But if I can't make a trade
To have Saturday back
Or at least to make these awful feelings of
Guilt, shame, remorse, and self-hatred dissipate
And the chance to talk to you once more
Then I'd like to give it all away
For a week's stay in a no-star hotel room,
A shitty stereo with the right music,
A carton,
A quarter,
A few cases,
And five or six bottles.
Enough to make me psychotic
And then make this over



Thursday, October 3, 2013


Catastrophe

I've finally succeeded in accomplishing
One of two things I've worked at
Seemingly since I met you:
Pushing you to the point
That you had no other choice but to
Leave me to my own asinine devices
If you wanted to retain your sanity.
Because on some simultaneously
Self-loathing
Self-centered and
Self-destructive level
It's what I thought I wanted
What I thought I needed.
All it took was another
Drunken night (okay, two) to do it and
Another shaky morning
To see that I was
Wrong again.
Now all I can do is cling to the hope
That you decide you are, too.

#42

Friday, September 27, 2013


Epiphany

There's nothing I can do
To make you feel the same
And nothing I would do
Because I finally understand
That if I could
It still wouldn't be what I want
Because love and free will
Go hand in hand
In a way we never will
And despite years of trying
I can't love you enough
For both of us
And for once in my life
I'm truly okay with that
Now all that's left is to
Match my heart to yours and
Await the outcome
And no matter what that outcome is
I will accept it with a
Smile on my face and a
Lightness within
For I know that whatever will happen
Is supposed to be

#41

Wednesday, September 25, 2013


Clarity

I couldn't fathom the fact that she wasn't in love with me. I was so delusional and selfish and unaware of both myself and of her that I was positive she was in love with me on some level but refused to admit it to herself. And thus, I viewed everything she did through that lens.

When I broke things off with her and she cried, felt depressed, didn't know what to do with herself - it was because I'd rejected her, broken up with her, and the secret part of her that was in love with me couldn't deal with that. It wasn't because I really was her best friend, sometimes her only friend. It wasn't because I was the only person with whom she really felt comfortable talking about difficult things.

When she wasn't there for me every second that I needed her in a stressful situation, it was because she was punishing me for something and didn't care about our "relationship" anymore. It wasn't because she was terrified of pushing too hard and scaring me out of something everyone knew I had to do to fix myself. It wasn't because she thought she might lose me again, maybe for good.

When she hung out with other guys, she was betraying me - hell, cheating on me - by spending time with them because she was interested in all of them. She wasn't doing it because she had friends other than me just like I had friends other than her. It wasn't because she is fully capable of being nothing more than friends with the opposite sex. It wasn't because she likes meeting new, interesting people the way every human being does.

When she actually did have feelings for other guys and really did do intimate things with them on occasion and then told me about it, it was because she was trying to hurt me, trying to make me jealous, trying to push me away, trying to drive us apart. It wasn't because she was happy or nervous or excited or confused or hurt or sad, and it wasn't because she wanted, sometimes needed, to talk to her best friend about it; nor was it because I would be upset if she didn't tell me.

And when she didn't tell me those things, it was because she was trying to keep secrets from me, lie to me about what was really happening. It wasn't because she was trying to protect me and avoid hurting my feelings, it wasn't because she knew that whether she told me or not, I would get mad at her and blame her for making me feel bad, it wasn't because it probably seemed like the kind, rational thing to do to save me (and her) some immediate pain by not telling me - especially since the outcome would be the same either way.

When she cuddled with me or rested her head on my shoulder or let me sleep next to her, it was because the part of her that was in love with me was trying to be romantic and let itself show despite her denial of it. It wasn't because she's an affectionate person and felt safe with her best friend, and it wasn't because it was comforting to her and to me to do those things.

When she thought about us, the part of her that was in love with me thought about us, as though we were one unit, rather than two separate people in a great, close, deep, caring, loving friendship - a friendship that one of those two people ruined countless times (maybe forever) by failing to realize that there isn't an us, there never was an us; by failing to realize that she never wanted or claimed to want or gave any signs of wanting anything more than a friendship; by failing to realize that the part of her that was in love with me was located in my own head.

God, have mercy, and I ask that she might do the same one last time. I'm a slow learner; don’t let it be too late.

#40

Monday, September 23, 2013


Borges

...hallways
The same, always
Lost, fumbling, stumbling
I recognize these
Corridors labyrinthine
Open doors unexisting
I know this place
Better than myself
Though escape eludes me
The only exit precludes me
As it forever folds back on itself
Returning me to the heart of these...

#39

Saturday, September 21, 2013


(Not?) The End

An unsure conversation
And uneasy as well
With an unclear outcome
Though anything worth doing
Is rarely clear, easy, or sure
This won't pan out the way I want it to
But I might finally believe that's for the best
I only hope I'm strong enough
Not to lose that faith
- assuming this happens at all
And if it doesn't
I've only myself to blame
And if it does
I can't ruin it again
No
I won't ruin it again
For each of us

#38

Monday, September 16, 2013


!

Queen's pawn
Carefully makes his way across the board
Only to be overtaken by
Another black knight at Q7
In an obvious capture, orchestrated by white queen
Though their game will end in
Stalemate

In the next game
Pawn falls under King's command
And will finally reach
The eighth rank
Anticipating his promotion
Into whatever King sees fit

#37

Saturday, September 14, 2013


Someday I'll Read This, Laugh, and Roll My Eyes (Maybe You'll Be There Too)

Home
And things are
So much better
So much worse
Than I ever thought possible
You told me a joke I don't understand
And every time I repeat it to see if anyone else does
The punchline tastes like wormwood
(no one else gets it, either, by the way)
Still
That joke is precisely what I needed
To close this book
That has taken me more than four years to finish
I only hope I'm able to
Place it back on the shelf
Sooner
Rather than
Later

#36

Saturday, August 24, 2013


Lip Service

A white tunnel fills my vision
And somehow I manage to make a
Panicked escape through it
Despite my shallow breaths
My paralyzed limbs
My boiling brain
On the run for hours that seem
Timeless and surreal
Static, yet moving forward
While you spend time with those
Close to me
With full knowledge of my situation
If not my spatial location
As the others
     (the real ones?
     certainly the ones I neglected
     and maybe should have been with
     all along)
Make the journey to find me
To save me
From myself
I see now what everyone else has seen
So clearly
For so long
And though you've pushed me to come here
Time and again
For time immeasurable
I wonder
Will you regret it
When I return home?



Monday, September 9, 2013


Pandora's Box

A sealed rectangle
inscribed with both our names
     (mine taking precedence
     over yours
     for the first time in...
     all time?)
sent from close by
but arriving inexplicably late
due to circumstances beyond my control
and understanding
Was all it took to bring back the
familiar vibration of anxiety
originating just below my chest and
spreading out in all directions -
overtaking
     my lungs
     my heart
     my throat
     the muscles in my extremities
     my brain
     and finally whatever it is at the core of
     who I am
in a matter of seconds
Leaving in its wake a dreadful,
silent,
stillness,
     (one which I'm sure would have been
     painfully clear
     had anyone looked at me)
as I slowly split open the paper container
releasing the devastatingly innocuous kindness within.
And as my eyes scanned the
countless back symbols
covering two white sheets
I tried to determine
why I had finally received them.
Did you feel guilty?
Ashamed?
Sad nervous worried?
...scared?
I guess in three days' time it will
cease to matter
because there's nothing you
could have done
or will do
to change my trajectory.
The actions I'll take then were
set in stone,
solidified,
frozen,
unchangeable,
the second I left
three weeks ago...
even if no one knew at the time,
save for the One who imbued me
with the strength
to do this -
and for that
  (the strength and the unknowing)
I am thankful.

#35

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

spidery tendrils of ethanol
creeping through the folds
steamrolling my synapses into
a mobius strip of thought
inescapable

#34

Saturday, August 10, 2013

A catastrophe
Years in the making
Hovering obviously on the horizon
Easily avoidable
But still never veering away
Punctuated by the sickening crunch of
Plastic on plastic
And followed by
Ten hours of introspective hell
A brutally clear look at my
Very being
Every flaw and weakness
Exposed
By the harsh light of an alien substance
As the trees bend and shift
And geometry dances
In technicolor form
Behind my eyelids
Not allowed sleep until
The bittersweet medicine
Has run its course
Emerging on the other side
Reborn
Refreshed
Renewed
This is all it took to finally
Open my eyes
To you
To us
To me

#33

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

fevered brain
bad electronic seeping
from bad electronics
waves against my drums
poison in my lungs
later
for now in my blood

doing its best to numb

#32

Sunday, July 28, 2013

I am a narcissist obsessed with my own narcissism
Forever concerned with myself
Always self-aware enough to realize that
But too self-centered to do anything about it

-------

Solipsism is like this weird combination of narcissism, depression, psychedelic drugs, too much pop culture, personal experience, mental instability, The Matrix (Jesus, I wish I could've referenced anything else), a fear of death, and a fear of the afterlife. And holy shit, does it make a lot of sense right now.

Given that, how much sense can it make since I was self-conscious about referencing The Matrix there?

#31.5

Friday, July 26, 2013


Why Does This Hurt?

Because I love you.
Because I'm selfish.
Because I'm jealous.
Because I'm lonely.
Because I'm confused.
Because you're my best friend.
Because I want to spend every waking instant with you.
Because I don't know what I'd do without you.
Because I don't want to hurt you.
Because I've wanted the same thing ever since I first met you.
Because you're my best friend and I still want the same thing.
Because you give me (almost) everything I've ever wanted.
Because you care about me.
Because I care about you.
Because you make me feel things I've never felt before.
Because those things are sometimes great.
Because those things are sometimes difficult.
Because those things are sometimes the most painful things in the world.
Because I know if I could get my shit together we would be right for each other.
Because I can't get my shit together until you realize that.
Because you won't realize that.
Because I'm afraid it wouldn't last.
Because I don't know if I could let go no matter how hard I tried.
Because I'm not sure if I want to let go no matter how much it hurts.
Because we're deeply, sickly co-dependent.
Because we're both depressed.
Because I might be borderline.
Because you might be too.
Because sometimes I think you're right in not feeling the same way.
Because you have pretty good taste in things.
Because you can make fun of me like no one else can.
Because you think my dickishness is funny (most of the time).
Because you're not afraid to tell me when my dickishness isn't funny.
Because of those few days when you were petsitting.
Because that first night you were petsitting didn't go the way I wish it would have.
Because to this day I still wish that first night would have gone differently.
Because given the chance I would relive those three days for eternity without any changes, even with the bad parts, the awkward parts.
Because that was the happiest I've ever been.
Because I'm afraid I'll never be that happy again.
Because if I knew then what I know now, I probably wouldn't have been that happy.
Because sometimes I still lose my breath when I look at pictures of you.
Because you make me want to do things I normally wouldn't want to do (good, bad, etc).
Because I've written more about you than everyone else combined (myself aside).
Because you worry about me and that never bothers me.
Because I worry about you and that sometimes bothers me.
Because you were a huge part of the reason I tried to kill myself.
Because you are a huge part of the reason I don't want to kill myself.
Because sometimes thinking about you still makes me want to kill myself.
Because every time you hang out with a guy I wonder if you slept with him.
Because I hate myself for wondering that.
Because you make me want to quit drinking.
Because you make me want to drink.
Because I think I use you as an excuse to drink.
Because when I'm not with you, drinking seems like the only logical choice.
Because as I'm writing this I've been awake for ninety minutes and I'm already on my second vodka and coffee.
Because the necklace you gave me is a constant physical reminder of you and it makes me want to not do stupid shit.
Because I still do stupid shit anyway.
Because I think you could save me.
Because I think I could save you.
Because I know no one can save anyone else.
Because if that's true I don't know if I have a reason to live.
Because I don't think I could live without you.
Because with the way things are right now I don't know if I can live with you.
Because I'm still not sure if I want to live at all.
Because this list could always be added to.
Because.

#31

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Vodka in the freezer
Waiting to drink it
Until it's as cold
As I want to be

#30

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

I woke up for good with you in my head
(the same place you were during countless false awakenings
and the periods of darkness between)
And began absentmindedly flipping through a notepad
Filled with lyrics, notes, unintelligible scribblings
When I stumbled upon a drawing that was unmistakably yours
My thoughts faltered, off-balance, then toppled over themselves
Such an unexpected place to find a remnant of you
Here in this house you haven't been to in months
But one we used to frequent, together and apart
...and at the time, both options were dreadful and electric
Together, I could watch, make sure nothing happened
And I always found fault, even (especially) when there wasn't any
  - the dreadful
Together, I could throw myself into blurred oblivion
Blame you and him and me for the way I felt
Tear into, rage, sabotage
  - the electric
Apart, I could only fantasize
    Nightmarishly about what was going on when I couldn't see
      - the dreadful
    Selfishly and vindictively about my rightness and my revenge
      - the electric
In the same way I am right now, have been for weeks, if I'm honest
An ocean, a language, and countless thousand miles between us
And no matter what I do
    to forget
      to ignore
        to distract
          to numb
    to make myself better
      or worse
        or nothing at all
I still feel the same as I have for the past...
    four fucking years
I wish to Christ that wasn't the case
But I don't know if I can change
    (can, want, what's the difference at this point?)
And if I can't change
I'm afraid this might be over
For good this time

#29

Friday, June 14, 2013


Kidney Stones

I wake up from complete blackness and the first thing I feel is my nerve endings melting, dripping off like candle wax and dissolving into nothing. Vodka. Another night spent throwing myself into wretched oblivion, eventually forcing myself to climb out of an ever-thickening pool of regret, shame, heartache, and depression...although as long as I lay here unmoving - a dried-out, loathsome husk of despair - I can almost enjoy the way I feel right now. I am most definitely still drunk, probably won't wear off till midday at least, and I figure I may as well let this notungood feeling last as long as possible before I have to pay for what I've done to myself. Before I start the cycle all over.

I text her for a while, feeling good that my pickled brain can form coherent thoughts and my trembling hands can type actual words. Then I force myself out of bed and into the kitchen to fill a pint glass with ice. I pour a generous amount of hours-old coffee over the top. Old or not, I'm thankful one of my roommates brews a pot every day and never finishes it so I can at least get an immediate caffeine fix on the mornings that I need it - and holy Christ, is this one of them. This pre-hangover is cancerous, malignant, invading every crevice of my being. My head throbs, my eyes burn, my bowels ache; my stomach is roiling, my mouth is parched, my nerves are shot, my emotions run wild - all in all, this is the king cunt of pre-hangovers.

I can't wait to see what the rest of the day brings.

#28

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

I need enough to get up to that down, heavy, weighted level
the one where I don't care
and care too much
numb and alive
cold and concerned
despondent and hopeful
raging and full of love

#27

Sunday, April 21, 2013

I just want
Someone
I can lay in bed with
Listen to music and
Laze away the afternoon
Sunday sunlight
Streaming through
My bedroom window

Fingers entwined
Close and warm
Totally at ease, only
Interrupting
To turn the record over
And climb back
Under the covers
To hold
And to be held

#26

Sunday, April 14, 2013

They know we're supposed to be together

I'd like to think so

But I'm not sure

...

They're right, though

Right?

#25

Saturday, April 6, 2013

For once
Not miserable
And I hope it's not because
That's how you're making him feel

#24

Saturday, March 9, 2013

And all my writing is deluded
And all my hopes are false
Trying not to grasp
Trying to kill the desire inside of me
But it's difficult
When I'm not sure what I'm reaching for
Or what I want

A lighthearted conversation turned suddenly real
My head thrust into turmoil with one sentence
Then pushed quickly out the door
Not allowed any more razor-sharp words
To cut through the gordian knot that instantly formed
In the hollows of my skull
Left with the frostbitten fingers of my own thoughts
And the shaky hands of my morality, ravaged by time and toxins
Unable to get to the center
Because each pull at one side
Only tightens the rest
Sometimes revealing new snarls, too
I wish I knew where to find a torch
So I could burn the entire thing to ash
And watch it drift off on the wind
Never to see it again

#23.5

c. November 2012, March 2013, May 2013 & Sunday, July 14, 2013

[I think this is as finished as it's going to get, unless I'm able to flesh out the surrounding events into a short story the way I want to - you shouldn't read this; it's too faux-explicit and too personal]

Blink (A Passionately Calculated Decision)

"Hey, can I talk to you about something?" I say.

A moment's hesitation, a slightly worried look, then, "Yeah, okay."

"Cool. Wanna come outside with me? I need a cigarette."

Blink.

Sitting on the porch, in the middle of a sentence:

"...and I'm not gonna get weird or depressed or anything, I'll be okay if you say no, it's just been on my mind a lot recently and I didn't even want to bring this up because I didn't want to make things awkward because you're my best friend and I wouldn't trade that for anything but I've been thinking about it and... fuck, do you maybe wanna try dating?"

A surprised look, then, "No!"

Was that exasperation in her voice? Pity? Simple shock? I couldn't tell.

Blink.

An unexpected query from her:

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"What? Seriously? Yeah... yeah, I really do."

She leans into me. I drop my cigarette and respond in kind. Our lips meet. I pull her closer.

Blink.

Still kissing. Harder now. Her bottom lip in my teeth, then mine in hers. Biting, pulling, a slight pain, yet one I don't mind in the least.

"Did you bring protection?"

"What? ...no, no I didn't," a pause to take a gasping breath. Fuck, why can't I be like other guys and think that something like this might actually happen?

"But I wish I had now."

Blink.

"God, I'm so tempted to say, 'Fuck it,' and go do this."

A moment of stunned silence. There's no way that means what I think it means. This isn't happening. She's talking about something else. Don't get your hopes up. This isn't happening.

Blink.

Upstairs, in a stranger's bed. Still kissing.

"You promise you'll pull out, right?"

"Of course. Don't worry."

"Okay."

Then, suddenly, she's naked with the exception of her bra. I'm immobile. This is happening. Three years, much of which has been filled with heartache and bullshit, and this is finally, actually happening. (and this happening isn't the important part [though it is, at least a little] - it's the trust it takes to get here)

"Come on," she says softly, gently breaking me from my trance.

Blink.

A confusion of thighs, lips, hands, breasts, breath, tongues, teeth. My mouth alternately on her neck, her mouth, then the one place I was sure I'd never see. Hands in my hair, pulling, panting, saying my name. Asking, almost begging me.

Blink.

And everything is over. Or, it should have been. Tragically (or was it), my spirit is willing but my flesh is so weak. Traded apologies and comforts. Lips still pressing together occasionally, but now a faint air of disappointment that things didn't come to fruition. And for the life of me, I swear it isn't just my own disappointment, despite everything that happened later.

Blink.

Downstairs, filling a glass with water. Drinking it. To the computer to try and make things work. This is my only chance and I know it. Footsteps on the stairs cut my plans short.

"Hey, you all right? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just finishing my water."

"Okay, good. Wanna come back upstairs?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Blink.

The flame ignites. She inhales, then beckons me closer, lungs still full. She opens her mouth; I do too. Pushing her mouth against mine, she breathes the smoke past my teeth, over my tongue, and into my own lungs. A prolonged moment, then I exhale what little smoke is left.

She grins at me. "My turn."

I gladly return the favor.

Blink.

Rising from the bed, heading to the adjoining bathroom to clean the pipe. I reach the threshold, then:

"Hey, come back for a second."

I turn, smiling, and see her smiling back at me as I walk towards her.

"What?"

"What do you think?"

Our smiles widen as a glint enters her eye. Our lips meet anew.

Blink.

Once again entwined on the bed. Loud, quick breaths between kisses. My hands roaming over her body. Nervous, excited, happy. Hoping to God this works now. Trying anything I can think of, asking for things I normally wouldn't have asked for the first time but desperately reaching out for anything that will make this happen. She's making soft noises below me and Christ, I need this to happen now because it will never happen again, a fact I'm keenly aware of and doing my best to ignore. It's not working. None of this is.

Blink.

Yet again all the excitement dissipates, leaving a cold void of expectation in its wake.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"I'm tired."
"Yeah, me too. Should we just go to sleep?"
"Yeah."
She rolls over on her side. I do the same, wrapping my arm around her, putting my hand on top of hers, interweaving our fingers.
"Thank you," she says.

Blink.

Exhausted but afraid to sleep. I don't want to miss a minute of this because these occurrences are so rare. I'm afraid that after tonight, this will be the last one. I lay there, feeling her breathing slow and become more regular, trying to make my own fall in sync, alternately opening and closing my eyes, feeling tired but too electric, too nervous to sleep.

Blink.

Sleep must have come at some point, however, because movement from her side of the bed wakes me an indeterminate amount of time later. It's still dark, so I couldn't have been asleep too long. I rub my eyes, open them to find her getting out of bed, putting her underwear and shorts back on. I didn't even realize she'd fallen asleep without them. She climbs back into bed and curls up next to me again. I put my arm back around her, hold her hand. I close my eyes, and though it seems like it takes forever, I finally drift off into black, dreamless sleep for good.

#23

Thursday, September 1, 2011

I sit
Reading your poetry
Tobacco in my lower lip
Filling myself with low-grade alcohol
Trying not to feel anything
And also trying to feel the way I used to feel back when I first met you
Wishing I could write the way you do
Symbolism and metaphor
Big words I understand and have no idea how to use
Realizing now that you are so much more than I ever knew
That you are so much more than I will probably ever know
Realizing that my scars have not fully healed
The way I thought they had
That right now, I'm reopening old wounds
And for what?
Because I want to understand you?
Yes
But why?
Because part of me still wants to be with you
No matter how hard I try to kill that part of me
To throw it off a cliff and watch it shatter on the ground below
To hang a noose around its neck and kick at the chair
To force-feed it sleeping pills
And put a plastic bag over its head
I hate this
I hate the fact that I'm writing this
The fact that I speak in cliches I've been using forever
That everyone has been using forever
That I have no sense of rhythm or rhyme
That I'm only able to speak in common language
And write in freeform verse
I feel like the Hemingway of poetry right now
And I can't fucking stand Hemingway
I want to be cryptic, want to seem obscure and thoughtful
But I can't write like that
I can't write the way you can
And of course, I've made it about me again
That's all I ever seem to be able to write about
And then I comment on it in my own writing
Fuck, I'm stupid
I never should have started this
And as much as I want you to see this
I know you never will

======

I keep trying to see myself in the things you write
But I know that's wishful thinking

#22

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

(Mostly) sober crying
Sat in my room
A cat, a beer, and a song on repeat
The way I've spent this day the last four years
And despite everything that's happened since then
I'm still the same
Still not over you