After the light and debauchery,
walking a desolate street
I find myself relieved
in this solitude

I am lost in the labyrinthine
sequence of chortles and stories,
lost in a crowd, dislimned in light,
in a corner trying to listen

There’s no one in the world
who understands solitude as I -
my firm grasp, my propinquity
I can almost caress it

You are home. Or home is you.

Part III. Forestfire.

Ignited like fireworks spun like
a globe singed like the burn
holes that make the poet
scream doesn’t anyone
else get sick of going
out every night, and
what about coming
home what about
love what about
love what is the
so controversial
truth about feeling
like you are looking
at the world from the
top of an empty bottle or
how can you make it stop?
Highschool sweethearts and
teenage heartthrobs, and all

I can do is pretend as if you
mean nothing. And my life is
tragically revolving around
how everything reminds
me of you if I care to
think hard enough
or dream long or
drink straight or
fucking staying
awake will be the
death of me. What
about the memories
we can still remember
like finding love letters
on Sunday mornings or
staying in bed six hours,
or longer walks and colder
beers or your coldest hands
sleepwalking back into mine,

I could do this without you but I just don’t want to.

With his tainted lips

He said she was cunning

That her smile was slightly stunning

I laughed and said “oh, honey”

Cause I’d rather not pick up her pieces when he’s gone

Rather not feel her tears against my thumbs

Rather not have to convince her she’s beautiful again and again and again

But he still went ahead

Now I’m lying with her head against my chest

Oh God, what a beautiful, beautiful mess 

Do not talk to me about forever until you have held back my hair as I throw up my demons. Do not say that you will stay until you have seen my rotten lungs and still want to breath the same air as I do. Do not take me for granted. Do not tell me that you will love me until the sky shatters into a million pieces unless you have seen me light my whole world on fire and dance in the scorching flames. Do not tell me that this is what you want until I have broken your heart at least three times and never once handed you the glue. Do not feel like you have saved my life when I take off my make-up and you tell me I am beautiful. Do not act like I am still the sun when you discover that I am a hurricane. Do not kiss me until you understand that I have the capacity to rip out your throat. Do not assume your right to my body; it is a thing of worship and you are not worthy. Do not fall in love with me until I have slammed the door in your face. This isn’t pretty. This isn’t fun. I am unbreakable and you are a liar.
—  Do not love me, it’s a waste of time.
I know you love him and you can’t stop thinking about him. 
I know you think he’s made of atoms that were once stardust and ocean waves 
but so are you. 
He wanted bright blue skies but you have always been a storm. 
Not everyone knows how to survive a storm. 
Someone once told me that everybody I love is sixty percent water. 
He’s sixty percent water and you’re a sea storm.
Maybe that’s why you feel at home when his body touches yours.
—  Take me home