Poison Book

I was thinking about you
how your hair seems to
tangle in your fingers
when you sift through the remains
of dead cells

each strand is a promise
I forgot to make to myself

but you
you always seemed to live
vicariously through these letters
and each of them twisted and curled
to your shallow thoughts

sometimes I think you like
self pity more than you like living

you watch the cherry burn
in the ash tray, thinking
to yourself into
metaphorical tongue twisters

but the smoke only chokes
it's way into your mind

sometimes I feel the smooth edges of
a drunken sleep and remember
the addictive nature of
our hands scribbling
in the ink.

I hear these clocks
and theyre clicking their tongues

we're dying
a little more every second
and it's a little more than I'm sure
your silly head can
comprehend.

we are clapping
with our heads to the ground

hollow
as our faces sink

spinning
are our thoughts
and we drink to the loss
of our

children.

I am in my case
heavy with death
and I am joining you
again

I do not know your name
but I know your face
and your eyes were light

with passion

awake with silence

we pushed our feet against the mrble
my chest heaves
trying to catch
each breath
unlike you

you remain beneath us
crossing your
rotting hands across your chest
as a means to keep
your soul from escaping

the inevitabilities of life.

And you saw it first
the gates which we do not believe in

Well,

I believed.

I believed.

Things die. They fade into dirt and soil.
You learn to close your eyes and move on, never stopping once to think about how it felt. How it lived.

I woke up
on the pavement
through the trees, and
your voice became
disjointed through the
static and the leaves.

You break away from the branch;

I can't miss you even then.









I used to be excited,
now I'm staring at the ground
waiting for the
seconds of the day to run out
until time leaks into
tomorrow and
I have to slip again
into sleep,
I'll forget you even then.

I'll forget you.

Its over now.
And the waters are calm.
And I can see right through myself without you standing in the way.
And I'm free again to fall back to square one and welcome pain in open arms.

I have anesthetics to pretend that I can't feel it.
And I have a memory of how much you love me.
And how much I don't love you.
How much I wanted so badly to.

But it was right.
And you'll move on and find a better person who isn't so fucking broken.
Who isn't so fucked up.

You lived your dream.
And I was a part of it.

I've done the most generous thing. I should love myself for that.
But hey. We all have to go under to come back up.

I'm alone again.
All alone.
And I fucking love it.
( I hate it hate it hate it)

And I want you to know
that if I rip the needle from my vein, you'll know that it tore a hole 3 inches into my arm. And if it's any consolation dear, it hurt more than you will when I say goodbye.

"We don't have any money."

"Your dad makes too much money to be on welfare"

Then why the FUCK are you REDOING the mother fucking bathroom?!
You fucking slut.

Fuck money.
Fuck the capitalist system.
Just..fuck this whole family. Its focused on worth. Thats it. Productivity, money, possession, numbers, weight, worth, worth, worth.

I am worth nothing because I am young. Because I am useless.
Because I have no money.
Because I have no job.
Because I am nothing.

we fuck like its the most beautiful thing in the world.

we're just being human, darling.


we were never special to begin with.

I am a monster.
I am large.
I am nothing and everything.

I am pathetic.
And you love it.

You really hate it, though.
It's okay.



I hate me, too.

When you touch me, I'm not there.
I'm in your car.
In the passenger's seat.
In the parking lot.
In the park.
And it is X:XX PM. With XX seconds/minutes/hours to X:XX PM/AM.
And I'm not with you anymore.
Because I never really was.
Because when we talk, I just whisper the introduction to a story I make so much greater in words.
Because the words don't mean anything.
Because I'll never really tell you.
Because when I tell you, it won't be as amazing as the introduction seemed.
Because I'm a liar, I'm a fake, I'm a fraud.
Because I am exactly the girl you though I was.
Because I'm just a girl.
And I'm not with you anymore.
I don't feel anything at all.