Forgive me,
I can't ever remember your name.
Although your existence brings me comfort
on slushy days
when the winter sky is grey.
Walking your roads,
boots crunch gravel,
securing the smell that long ago
seeped through your wood,
into my sole.

Perhaps the truth
turned oblivious.

And the boy
knew to whisper
persuasion
softly.

Dark shoulders
urged
a moist
smile.

Touch awake the
disturbing
nights.

Her outgrown,
innocent
masquerade:






                   faded.

I am kissing you again.
And ******* into jars again.
My deft eye calculates.
And the lazy one sleeps.

Goodbye.
My sweet little muse.

Was it not enough?
Or too much?

Flimsy hands honor our night.

Rusty,
aged,
perfectly insistent.

Circumstances
kissed his voice.

Leave what you promised.

I'm a white, male,
American dreamsicle
who says "****"
way too much
to not be cool.

I read about my father issues
on my mother's face.
I hate things and people
because the news told me to.
Art is ****** and ****** is art;
when Billy killed Sue,
my heart raced.
Do drugs with me
or do none at all;
promise me when we're high
we won't fall.

There are ******* on the street
and the cops are shooting them.
There are ******* kissing
and old, white men are scared.
There are mentally ill people
and they are "seeking attention".
There are women with voices
and old, white men are scared.

I am an American Dreamsicle:
cold, unhealthy, and killing your kids.
You can buy me for 40% off
and I promise to take 60% of your ideals.
I am what my parents don't want me to be
and that is the appeal.
Little do I know, I am every thing you are
and that is my cancer.