you
you think this a lot
with emphasis
a one word blame
disappointment, you suppose

but you don't think it at other people
oh,
oh, they're fine.
its you
because what the *****
is wrong with you

you still haven't figured that bit out yet

bit by bit
you lose yourself
things you were
things you did
they're gone now
maybe you remember them
maybe you don't
(you think you don't)
you think there used to be so much more
but now
now it's just you
waiting in the parking lot
pavement cracked and covered in chewing gum
the lights flickering
like fires among the rows of houses
flickering like candles put out in a rush during a black-out
and you're staring at these lights
waiting
watching them flicker
flicker
flicker
until its the
last
light
out

you're sitting on your bed
lights off and
curtains closed and
the carpet illuminated through the cracks in the door
so it's night, but you're not tired, you're not,
you're thinking
daydreaming because your mind is in control
you hope, but its not doing what you want
and everything is falling apart
all frame-shifts and flickers of deleted data
and **** this
because honestly
what's the point.
if it doesn't work then it doesn't work
and you can't fix this, we can't fix this
it's broken and it'll stay that way
don't you dare try and put this back together
you ******
don't you dare
because you put everything into this and i did nothing
i don't deserve you and
you don't deserve this
this shattering illusion of happiness
bright memories and lovely thoughts
because everything is just waiting for the metaphorical black cloud to appear
because everything is just a clusterfuck
of bad emotions
well

well, ****.
this was supposed to go differently, i swear
not in a different direction, just...
just less harsh
see, look at that
i just **** up everything i do
see, this is why this is a problem
see, this is why you need to leave

you're stranded
miles away from the only good thing you know
so tonight, by the roadside,
you close your eyes and listen to the sound of cars
roaring past
rocking your body

you imagine the city lights
the walks at two a.m.
you imagine it all
and somewhere along the way
you end up in the middle of the freeway
legs and imagination running wildly
both feet pounding on pavement breath short and fast vision blurry horns blaring headlights flashing past swerving away from you in consternation

somehow, you are by the side of the road
miles away from the only good thing you know

you are sleeping when it happens
bright lights flashing overhead and
the metallic clang over the din of explosions
its brights and it reminds you of a green lawn and
fireworks bursting overhead and you’re about to slip back into that memory
when you remember the scent of blood thick in the air and
the muddy trenches and
the screams
and now you’re frozen
now you can’t move
you’re terrified and lying still
and then
that’s when you hear it, the
grenade, hurdling towards you and
your eyes are shut tight because you didn’t know what you were signing up for
honor and fame,
they said but
you can feel the presence of the explosive
as though it’s the only thing in the world that matters
and suddenly
everything starts to go fuzzy around the edges,
all bloodstains and yells in the night and in the midst of it all
you are dimly aware of the red leaking from your chest and
dribbling out of your mouth

you begin to lose consciousness soon after this
and all you can think of is that you wished you’d seen france,
outside of the war
because you’ve got a family back home, and you’re desperately trying to think of anything
other than this
anything at all
your old house in iowa
roughhousing with your brothers
and now everything really is blurry
outlined in dark, pulsing red and you start to feel warm all over
and you’ve heard about this, you’re dying and
oh, god
oh, god
you’re dying

the world doesn’t stop for you, you can tell
everything keeps on going, the battle around you
soldiers falling into the trenches, blood spurting in all directions and
now,
now you’re calm
now you’re settling back into the mud, breathing still laboured and erratic but the pain’s gone
and all you can bring yourself to think about
is the fireworks
in july
colorful and bright,
you’re in that world when it takes you

the radio is thrumming in the distance and you are measuring something
its scientific
so you don't bother to explain it to me
because we both know that i won't understand it
and i'm okay with that
because i am more than happy staring in wonder at you
perhaps it sounds cheesy
that's okay, because it's sincere
and you know this

the radio is listing random numbers
as always when it's not tuned to my voice
and the sun hasn't set
but that means very little, because the sun has not been setting at the right time anyways
not that it matters, since electric lights were invented some time ago

you're leaning against me
and smiling
and i am carding my fingers through your hair
and its lovely, it is
because this moment has not yet ended
and while it is nice to have memories to look back on
its never quite the same

it must be heaven, i think
because i am not used to acceptance
not even in such a strange town as this
i am not used to acceptance and while i am okay with this
its nice
to have someone know your darkest secrets
and stay by your side
it make you feel worthwhile

before i told carlos - beautiful carlos, and he's mine -
i was worrying
my mother
before she died
told me many things
most of them to do with my death

but also
some things that are a little more meaningful
and sitting here with my carlos
i am reminded of what opposites they are
carlos
has always accepted by glowing tattoos that sometimes
when i'm not careful
morph into tentacles that snake their way around his arms, holding him close
he may have been a little annoyed when he couldn't sleep
but it wasn't my fault
he said that
very emphatically
and it was very kind
it's never my fault
he said
when someone bad does something bad to you
and that
has made all the difference

it is cold, and you're walking, and you can't see your feet
you're numb
not just your face and hands
but everything
detached
unable to distinguish from emotions now
and emotions then

you're walking down the road
and the stars are shining
headlights flying past, rocking your body
threatening to pull you under and break you,
crush you and your mind
and everything else

you're walking down the road, and the moon is low and dark and the sky is otherwise empty
lets say that your eyes are closed
but the drivers eyes are also closed
in the car behind you
and you, perched precariously
toe the white line between death and a dirt road

everyone, it seems, is waiting
for something unknowable
a feeling
a thought
a pat on the back, signalling that everything's okay
everything's allright
it's just fine
go back to sleep
ignore the questioning looks and just
relax

the man in the tan trenchcoat is looking for you
his brothers, his family
disapprove, but
why not
you're not a  bad person
after all
you've done bad things, yeah
made bad decisions, yeah
but overall
what's so bad about sleeping in hotels when the back of your car
is not as comfortable as it looks
so you're desperate
and he's desperate
and you keep missing each other
the looks and idle touches
while comforting
scare you
you are not a  person who feels
so you cannot feel the stubble whispering over your skin
and you did not swallow openly
and stare across the tables as his blue eyes watch you
he doesn't judge you
and for that
you love him
wait.
no.
you don't love him
because that would be wrong, and decades of reinforcement are telling you this
but honestly
if he just loved you back...
there's that word again
the lights over the Arby's are hovering 100 feet above the ground
and you're freezing and alive
and maybe you wish you were dead
but you're not
and that's what really matters
probably
you hope.

everything's wrong, i swear

it's off, somehow
the sky is falling
to pieces
and i've no way to fix it
just stare up
and wait

leaves swirling around
the light sound of rain hitting the earth
and i'm waiting
for a bus
a taxi
something that will take me where i need to go

a pencil tapping on the desk
everyone's looking out the window
distressed
and vacant
if it's possible to be both

the sky is falling to pieces
and everything that should have happened
will have to wait
and now everyone's saying what they meant to earlier
when it would have made a difference
and now maybe we've got something to work with
not that it matters

because haven't you heard
the **** world is ending
run to the bunker
now's not the time for a last goodbye

run to the bunker
run and hide
and try to pretend that everything's alright
pretend that you'll survive

that's what's kept me going all these years

pretending i'll survive