Did you get those scars on your knees from praying?
Or ******* your fathers **** inside the barn?
or did you pray while doing it
that he would choke on his own satisfied face?
did you sit inside his church listening to him preach
hypocrisy to family and friends
while you swallowed back that bitter taste he left in your mouth
the one that tasted like an anger so pure it made your eyes water?
did you wait patiently for him to finish his speeches about
salvation, jesus, god and being sinless
whilst you prayed in that godless church, he would miss a step
fall and break his neck?
Was that thought the only thing that gave light to your eyes?
did you think these things while you brushed the dirt and gravel off your knees
wash the blood in the toilet
Put on your Sunday dress and look at yourself in the mirror
with empty eyes
that knew nothing but hate
and a shame so heavy it made you hate the act of breathing?
because every time you did it reminded you of the weight on your chest that no amount
of air
could
get
rid
of
(like the time he sat on you when you were sleeping)

Do you think that gods disciples and prostitutes have the same knees?
Do you think anyone can tell the difference?

Does the cross around your neck ever threaten
to get so tight it chokes you?
so hot, it burns your skin?

Too much praying gets you to the same place
when you're left with nowhere to dish out your pain
and too many unanswered questions, on your knees
on your ******* knees
about fathers and gravel, dirt **** and spit
*We all get ****** in the end

I've seen boys turn into men
   hands full of grenades
made of anger, of hurt of
cold
hard
beer
and smiles that could light-
no ignite
This cold heart of mine

I've known boys so steady
so calm
so sure
But they ended up dragging me-
along the cold hard pavement floor
Until I was nothing but a tattered corpse

They let me go
Like children do balloons
When my burdens grew too heavy
For the both of us to bare

I've seen boy's
-no men
With eyes so bright
so happy
so full of
life
I've known kids
so
so hollow
so empty

That even a rhyme couldn't describe
And I tell them to sit
sit down
and write it all out
But the paper grows damp
From the tears of their pens
And their poems unstructured
Their names but a blur

So now I know
I know
You can't tame all wild things
You cannot confine
Pain
To paper
As Pen to paper

I realise why I'm drawn to alcoholics
after you, because you taste like one;
heat-filled,numbing passion.
Because you are certain of your drug
of choice
and can hold your liquor
So that means you can hold me
our hands only shake when we're sober
so lets stay drunk all the ******* tIme
and fight off these ghosts in beer bottles
ode to Jack Daniels for leading us to
true love
because there really must be a god
if something as sweet as this
could exist

Until the morning when we wake up
still slightly
drunk
staggering, stuttering
dark eyes and muttering
apologies for what happened
"last night"
but were not sorry because well do it again
just bring the whiskey
Ill bring a pen

So I realize you're as smooth as the poison you drink
and as sharp as the blade
i use to inflict
these toxins of waste in my breath
on my skin
but we'll do it again
yeah we'll do it again

We learned about a boy in class
In 1st grade, some god granted him wings
But he flew too close to the sun
and died and drowned a terrible death

I meet this boy a few years later
I tell him about my death-wish
Thats at the bottom of my bucket list
And he tosses them all away

He says his wings have been clipped
and that he still thinks hes drowning
in a sea of vast emptiness
And the only burn signs on him
are his eyes
like dying embers that I cant save


he kissed me with abandon
threw water into my heart
it was dried out and torn
you see
his eyes they burned their way down my throat
igniting a light
as he leaves

And I think about that boy
Icarus I believe his name
He flew too close to the burning flame
Like a moth to a light
and singed his broken wings

but they forgot out the part
where the sun melts his wax heart
and he drowns in the deep dark
blue

And I forgot to tell you about the ending
about the salt water in my lungs
that I lurch back profusely
I realize its just the second skin of a little lost zombie boy
This isn't CPR
this is choking on his dead weight passion
drowning on his blue eyed sorrow

Like he choked on the sea.

I wake up heavy
Try to shake off dreams that make me
sweaty
I wake up tired
Before the headaches start
I wake up dull
Like my skull is too small for my brain
and the pressure
is slowly killing me
theres this pit in my stomach
and thats why I cant sleep
The sound of my heartbeat has kept me up for
weeks
and If I could just have one night where
I wont wake up
every
hour Ill
be fine I promise
If I could just have one more night where I dont ache
from the memories
of a home so long ago
because we all know
You don't go home twice
You cant go home twice
So Ill find a sanctuary inside my brain
somewhere warm and nice
where these sleepless dreams reside
and Ill figure out how to breathe
and block the sound of my heartbeat
out
So I wont have to wake up
with a lump in my throat
and aching
that ache
for home
for *home

I sketched a faceless man today
I put more details in his hands than I ever could in his eyes

I drew a faceless woman today
forward facing
I put more details on the muscles of her back
than I ever could her nose

I painted a faceless child today
I put more details on his body
than I ever could his lips

I painted faceless beings today
all hollowed out alone
my art teacher looked at me like i was a little disturbed
I could not explain to him that the hollow of her cheekbone
will have more meaning
than the color of her eyes
or the voluptuousness of her lips
and that the strain in her shoulders
will show
and that man will have more meaning in the creases
of his palms
than I could ever put on the lines of his face
And all I could think of was
How that faceless woman had a **** good
***

Take your medication darling you are no better
than the lies you tell
and theres a light inside us all
that only dogs can smell
-- even they get their skulls smashed in
In a house of glass of rubies and jewles
in a world where the sun doesn't set
I am blinded by the harshness
of it
too much of a good thing
is never a good thing
haha
smell me now
smell me now
feel your
pulsating
-something else that taste like the memory of you
because once someone is gone
they've never existed
not even your corpse
looked like you
now you sway from clouds
from that same noose you built of maple wood
and Tony's scars--- honey
baby please
but sweetheart
you know I hate those names
sweet pea
Put a gun to my head and tell me im beautiful
I can breathe like you
I poked my finger into your unflinching eye
not a yelp in surprise, darling
people are lemon tainted goldfish
bitter and boring
(I should really try not to use the word and so much but sometimes things don't make sense- and we need connectives to explain them)
explain this.
But cat's know this of humans
they are born with the innate knowledge that
people are **** they will never love you for long
that human loyalty is fickle
impermanent
so they daze off indifferent
independent
while dogs will chase you around, crying
when you are gone
I am a dog
woof woof
bark for me baby
you little *****
on the floor
I am still trying to make your feet reach the floor
But the noose was wound too tightly around that lamp
you had pretty feet
I always looked at hands

If I could lay under you and catch your death as it fell
I would swallow it and leave it there to rot
where all the dead things are
I looked for a heartbeat but there was none
crystal windows reflected blue skin we were swimming under water
this aint no fairytale

You look for meaning where there is none
in the crook of my collarbone or curve of my spine
or ribs you love to trace with your fingers
as if you could tuck your delicacy between the spaces intertwined by
nerve and muscle
As I breathe
you think your touch is all powerful
a healer
You look for beauty where there is none
in the curve of a smile
that rarely dances across my lips
as  if you could catch a fleeting glance and frame it somewhere behind your eyes
all you see is gold
fool's gold
brutally unaware that every-time you kiss the place below my neck
its as though you cut my throat open listening for the sound of a song I wouldn't sing
looking for words I wouldn't say
and they pour out of me
like the sweat from your pores,
in your need
You forget to be disappointed, when all you hear
is the sound of my gurgling
choking
on all the things that threaten to rush back to the surface
Now your eyes have a tint of orange coloured bitterness to them
The promise of something sweet
that only sounds sour
Your voice holds a note of deception
your touch doesn't dance as delicately across my skin
I no longer make my tongue move to the rhythm of your lies
As if I could taste the words at the back of your throat
Worst of all
I think I like you better this way.

eyes flicker in and out of conciousness
I stare daggers into walls
dance around chanting some heroic theme song
insert ****** babble
for those of us
who feel too heavy
like invisible chains drag across our ankles
and we hold boulders on our shoulders
that no one else can see
a curse taken from the japanese
or chinese
memory isnt one of our strong points
With razor sharp tongues we see people
sliced up
infront of us
shattering every pathetic little meaning of their existence
no remorse
turn away when there is blood
slice it up, we all have cuts
and bruises and certain scars
Ill paint my filth across these halls
and tell you about what a ***** little ***** I've been
Ill get real messy
and laugh when you call me a *****
for those of us who forget to eat
or want to forget to eat
know that , that weight will never go away
it stays at the pit of your stomach
you will never implode
always be at the peak of something like
a ****** that never happens
For those of us who drink too much
and laugh at how that sounds
because it really  never is enough
we have a certain kind of grit
that never leaves our colon
stays stuck in our intestines
we have a certain kind of fire that burns
its way up our throats and into our eyes
we speak like broken glass

I clawed my demons in the face
gauged out their eyes with my bare hands
I painted victory blood on that ivory staircase
Did my little dance
And then we tasted the laughter of children
knowing we will never again know how that feels
but spend the rest of our lives wanting to
get that feeling back
stare at the helplessness
in your empty hands
these hands could hold
and hit
and cut and stab and mash and grab
they  can caress, though
we break
so
easily

I don't think anything
I don't speak or write
Never mention the silence
that this void leaves behind
and no one sees that
behind my eyes
because deception is brutal
though some people aren't killed
never even fooled
(such a pity)
**** them all
I stare at you all my circle of friends that I-
(or **** yourself)
and feel nothing for these blurs of people
They look familiar.
Thank god for the idiots that-
no hand prints by passing strangers
the Russian palm on the back of my neck
Eugine, Nikita,
big boys, big big big big big big
with big ***** and strong hands and broad shoulders
(look away)
god bless the ******* that buy you  gin and there's this miracle
in the form of something lyrical
runs like water tastes like liquor I
love
the lyrical melody of being so ******
off your ****
face, *** whatever you wanna call it-
drunk.
I'm soberly contemplating switching the feelings off
Oh how it works
nothing but irises and going back home and kittens you don't bother to save-from
the streets
they all die anyway.
its a grown up kind of feeling
(silly)
Laughter doesn't ring the same way
you bash skulls against the wall
On Leo's drum kit and you swear his eyes are a deeper purple than the shade
of your hurt
you don't care
cant find it in you to care
we are the same you see we dispose of those we need nothing of
so its okay I guess

I can judge you anyway though
nothing nothing nothing
no feeling
"the contours of your face as mysterious as the scars that lined your hands"
left a place back there as cold as daddy's coffin
they don't tell you that sometimes
you hold onto a little bit of childhood, like laughing at
people falling on their *****
now protect us against that kind of crass humour
Ill pretend to care
-but you'll see that I really don't
the restless way my knee jumps like
your heartbeat and eyes that swim over walls and
faces
like a ski *****
left too many bruises
were all going down
and I just don't care any-more.