I can't
write about you
because
you haven't
hurt me yet.

Because money is a problem for me
it isn't easy coming like these dudes with drinks.
Partying every night while I'm struggling.
Sleeping, counting how much I have left and wondering
Is it enough for me
If there's a emergency
Or will  the doctors turn me away because I didn't bring the bread with me.
So I do what I have to
to stay above water.
Because life is a sinking titanic
I'm in the water and its make it harder
there's only one door which is pragmatic.
Who's to say you will survive.

I am tired of being disposable.
I am tired of being filled to the brim with secrets and late night phone calls and then tossed away like garbage, like our friendship was never real.
I am tired of being the person that is spoken over in every conversation, like my words are just swept up by the wind in a snowstorm, unheard and meaningless.
I am tired of being talked to to fill your boredom until something better comes along.
(I am tired of being inadequate to every other person)
I am tired of having kisses trailed down my body, and having those same lips say goodbye so soon, because I am not enough to stick around.
I am ******* tired of being disposable.

I have never met someone so incredibly irritating. She is disagreeable, and argumentative, and stubborn, and impossible to please.
When I told her I love her lips she got angry that I focus only on her beauty.
I told her that I did not only mean that they look kissable, and God, you know they do, but I love the words emitted from them when she screams at some misogynist ******* whistling at her from the slightly rolled down window of his car.
She complained that I should be yelling too.
I could propose with all of Saturn's rings and she would complain that they are secondhand.
You ask her about love, she'll tell you about heartbreak.
As would I.
But maybe we all would.
Maybe we are all sitting starry-eyed staring at the ground waiting for the wrong person to put us upright, maybe there is no right.
Maybe she is right.
Maybe Saturn's rings hang too heavy on her heartbeat, maybe all I need is to be a string wrapped around her finger while I've been tied around her neck like a noose.
Maybe she'll cut herself loose.

You're royalty
In your own kingdom
Tables lined with spirits
Because you love to drink your dinner

You're rich with emotions
Only emotions I'm afraid
For your treasure is all fools gold
Though it's tried so hard to prove its worth

You're a king covered in lies
Drunk on the life you could've had
Perched on a throne of hard-luck
Holding onto pyrite for dear life

But you are the golden man

God is any man with a gun, and we all live at His mercy.

I have heard on the streets
I died. To my surprise, and theirs,
I sneak up on all of my acquaintances,
tap tap tap on their windows in the dark,
like a limb blown by the wind.
Creep through their smallest  cracks,
blow sweet nothings into their dreams and up their (?)
awaken, they do , to a fleeting ghost.

Mine was when I was four
I planted it on my mother.
I got slapped for it.
She was watching
a soap opera,
"one life to live"
I think, I saw the actor and actress
plant lips wide open.
I remember thinking,
that is how you do it.
I did.
****** man, why does this remain
in my thoughts?