reoccurring kind (bad habits)

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I am much too comfortable sitting on my checkered kitchen floor. As I edit my writing, I can’t help but review the history of past love affairs. Very briefly, I consider hand writing apologies and mailing them out to all of my lovers, to all the ones I hurt. But that would take too long. So I pour out more wine and flip the record to pass the time. One of my favorite sounds in the world is the 5 seconds before the first song starts on a vinyl. The reoccurring swoosh. One revolution, two revolutions, three revolutions and Custom Concern by Modest Mouse comes on. I feel as though my body no longer belongs to me. As I inject the nectar of blooming flowers into the violet corridors that make up the veins of my left arm. These violent affairs leave behind silent regrets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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flores

I gave you flowers because who doesn’t love getting flowers???

Men like flowers too.

FUCK GENDER ROLES

Thank you for the long car rides and the Modest Mouse vinyl you got me just because I told you it was one of my favorites.

I guess I’m not used to being around people who listen.

 

 

chemical imbalance

img_0392sometimes I hate myself

today I hate myself

today I purge

today I purge my body of impurities

sometimes I love myself

today I’m content with watching New Mexico sunsets alone

bellyaches wake me up in the middle of the night

throat burning

stomach acid

watering holes

do you miss me?

dear green eyes, dear blue eyes, dear brown eyes

you can’t save me from myself

tired so tired so tired of trying

it’s a drag to breath these days

when I quit drinking I will come see you

 

Great life choices 

Have you ever hated yourself?

Do you ever dream while you’re awake?

The beauty of impermanence.

People always leave with decomposing smiles.

Feel less, think again.

I’m simple. I’m a single trail of smoke.

I like to dream when I’m awake.

have you ever been blue?

We sat in your car in the parking lot of a Burger King

drinking wine out of the bottle,

catching glances of stranger’s life through their car windows.

As we guessed their occupations and bad habits,

I welcomed vulnerability.

have you ever been blue?

I prefer music written in minor keys.

My relentless melancholy emerging to match the dahlias blooming on my ribcage.

The magnitude of your sadness spills over  the corners of your lips when you smile.

What a lovely mess, what lovely place.

I dream in black and white.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For your poetry. 

I miss the feel of you.

Rushed conversations on the telephone can never replicate

the words exchanged, the words left behind on my bed.

Pass the wine.

Pass the last line.

Trapped in a circle of indecisiveness ,

yours and mine.

Anticipating creations

mine and yours.

Chasing time zones,

to hear your voice.

August 8th 2017

white noise, white lies

sweet embrace

chocked out goodbyes

broken clocks and mended wounds

I give the best bad advice

don’t text me anymore

so much is lost in translation

hang up the phone