I've suffered bouts of
writer's block that
made me feel like
half a man.
Metaphors and imagery
evaded me.
It was frustrating
and painful.
a desert
an iceberg
a forest with
no trees.

Lately it's the
opposite.
I'm on the
most prolific writing
streak of my life.
It's like building
a ladder to heaven.
I can taste colors
and smell sunshine.
It feels like I
found the fountain of youth.
Like I'm a **** star,
a rock star, like I can
grab stars out of the sky
and light up my writing desk.
I sleep in the
crook of the moon
and dream
that this steak
never ends.

when i die
dont put me in a dress
dont make me look alive
dont clean my skin
dont put concealer on my scars
dont close my eyes

bury me with tears staining my cheeks
burn me with my lips bruised
with my skin ***** and my knees scraped
let me die the way i lived
i will not rest in peace
let me rest in chaos

i am sorry.
everything falls down
we descend from an open mouth
twisted kaleidoscope legs and eyes
colors of all kinds
was i a friend of yours
hands open and close splitting doors
my writing isn't very good
my speaking is worse
it all falls out in tangled ribbons
distorted chords
the pattern of the cadence of my heart
is your hand crawling up my arm
i see windows in skin
and a mantis on your tongue
aftermath has become
me. i am sorry
because you see
i was never made to be here
my mother has explained it to me
fear is no good because
we will all shrivel and collapse
as we should
i am nothing but a fever dream
the rosy cheek kiss
of last spring
the pills in your bottles
the salt in your water
the freckles on your neck
today is yesterday
and tomorrow is believing
in something you can't see
i think bruises
are the prettiest thing
i've ever seen
can't i crawl out of
your stomach and into
your arms
selfishly i want to be
your friend

Her name was
Amy, she was
18 and I was 21.
We met the
summer after my
Mom died.
She had a scholarship
to Iowa State for
swimming.
We didn't have
air conditioning, and it was
a brutally hot summer.
I got sick, and couldn't
work; pretty soon
I couldn't get
off the couch.
I had my brother run
to the corner and
use the payphone to call
the ambulance.
It turned out I had
double pneumonia.
They also realized I was
drinking a lot and would
need help medically to
d-tox.

Amy visited me in
the hospital.
She snuck my kitten in.
We made out in my bed.
She was beautiful.
I felt so alive when
I was with her.
The kitten got loose and
ran down the hall.
The nurses laughed.

I got out of the
hospital and began
drinking again immediately.
Amy broke up with me.
She said, "I can't be with
an alcoholic."
I was sad, but I still had
the kitten, until it
got smashed by
a car one sweltering
July night.
Mom
Amy
the kitten--all gone.
Then, I really started
drinking.