The Party Before

The problem with driving
was surviving the return
while in a daze,
constantly amazed at life,
even though
you’re walking a tight rope
millions of miles from Earth.
But we weren’t close
and I found walking difficult. 
Planning while sober
to not get pulled over
living in the moment
existing in laughter at jokes
and sleeping in green pastures
that were all all in your head.
That’s how these nights tend to go
My friends are welcoming enough
in that
they don’t mind my guest
though half the time
with her hiding behind me
I wonder if they know she exists.
I coast from person to person
conversing with the few people there
and yeah…I would like to skip
to the fun part
but I can’t seem desperate.
She drifts
a leash keeping her.
As they are starting
her and I 
sit in a circle.
My friend passes a cigarette.
I take a drag
while she quickly passes.
The can of soda
that she nervously hold
may do the job though.
Her eyes open to show
pupils dilated
and my friends know,
as one laughs,
and she falls on her back
as though pushed.
i glance at her
with a grin
then place the tab on my tongue. 

October 31st, 2012

With no faith in gaudy demonstrations,
pleasant sounds of exhalation
that took shape with the environment
gave way to contentious thoughts.
I hate things so pretentious.
Reality competing with fantasy.
Pleasantries only when it’s easy.
How could this be
what you claim?
Have you no shame
using immodest words?
We fell into this
when it meant something
on the lips of parents.
We thought we knew the meaning.
A word so close to hate
that they become the same.

Backseat Ride

After our argument,
asleep in the back seat.
Thumb in your mouth,
as if on your mother’s teat.
In my rear view.
Our words and your.
I swear I’d never help.
Yet I always do.
I want to be else where.
Yet here I again sit.
Life is too fleeting
to continue with this shit.
I am too tired
to drive too far
so we have stopped,
stranded where we are.
If I try to explain
that somehow we can’t grow
the pain in my stomach
would let me know,
you’re my responsibility
as I am yours.
No matter how we fall
we’ve become each other’s floors.
Turn signal resounding
as if announcing
that this would all turn around.
With sobs
or a coo
I’m being introduced
to a new you.
Please stay asleep.
My eyes straight ahead
despite the high beams
on the back of my head.
I fear how much trust
you have invested.
Though it was terrifying.
I confessed it.
I have a persona
of almost indifference.
Despite the fights
we have a resilience.
It’s a sorrowful thing
to cling to this sort
of strange relationship
with all the scars
from battles fought.

Abecedarian

What happened to that joy?
That I saw on your face ago?
Before the wrinkles of time began to show.
You spent hours
bleeding on your paper
about things we were too young to know.
Eyes straining in the shadows
finding where the black ink would go.
I lost you to that world for days.
I was amazed at how your pants fell.
Your thin limbs would tell
how easily you would snap
if I was too strong.
Those dark blue jeans
were replaced with black ones with inseams.
And almost admitting this mistake;
yet afraid to do a rash thing
you wore a noose around your neck.
So you slowly suffocated.
What happened to the hours you put in?
The sleep you were lacking?
The food you weren’t eating?
The wall you were bashing?
You were light from drugs.
You still drink poison.
Is this too a mistake?
You are growing weary.
You’ll barely make it through
The joy has disappeared
Along with the dreams of you.

The Bike Ride

I could barely climb this hill alone
So I later tried with two
Under a moon after my car died
only me and you.
You root for me
as I huffed and pumped
under the moon that cast silver in your hair.
Everyone was passing us.
Yet you didn’t seem to care.
Talking to me in a monologue
since I couldn’t respond
When I collapsed and couldn’t go on
you whispered what’s wrong.
Then you waited for no words.
Just held your arms to me,
helped me to my feet
so we could keep biking.
When we reached our destination
city lights under a peak
for the first time tonight
you did not speak.
Just rested your head on my shoulder,
hugged me closer
as we watched the stars of the city glaze over.
Maybe I’d be biking again.
Down hill this time.
After the uphill climb
I couldn’t bring myself to mind
the downhill ride
especially with
the sense of accomplishment inside.

My Pen is Losing Innocence

I want to be held tightly
pet my back lovingly
then slowly.
My blood pressure rising
like a heart attack
because you were my first love
before I knew the damp warmth
of dark places of many more.
Before I was deflowered
many times
by many whores.
In youth, mothers and others
spoke of us hesitantly.
Now hidden away.
Sin forced upon me.
Please comfort me.
Hold my head loosely
tracing fingers down
until I arch quickly.
Let this moment in darkness
sweep over us dreamingly
and after
let us sleep
with me in your arms.
Oh I never cared what others said
for they did not know this.
Now since we have found others
I only reminisce.
How our time together made your skin hard
yet made me harder and drained after.
If you tell others
you will hear laughter.
If you tell others
you will hear scorn
judgement at sin.
But let’s forget it all.
Hold me once again.
Hold me through it all.
The sounds of those outside,
the fear of being caught,
being seen by all.
Continue to hold me.
Exhibit bravery.
Hold me. Caress me.
No one shall come
but me.
I will change for anyone
but I want that change to only come for you.
You were my first, constant love.
And you were afraid that everyone knew.

Our Aspirations

I saw through a room with eternal smoke
And a few jokes between truth
that in youth dulled serious statements
about death.
The scene fit the news.
Brown water and rocks in its own transparent world
that he, like a god, drank from
in between creating clouds
and worlds with the most beloved characters.
I heard about him from friends
who worship him.
I can’t begin to fathom being such a god.
Though isn’t that what we aspire to?
Me and you?
It’s blasphemous practice
though we don’t admit it.
This is our goal,
to trade our soul,
for abuse and inspiration,
brown water and cancer sticks,
traveling parties and ladies turning tricks
because love can’t be found in our free time.
Unless she’s close.
Extremely close.
No one would approve
and though your work be sick
your life should be soothing.
But that isn’t us.
Even if it is in us you trust
to reveal trust
entertainment and proof of some philosophical thoughts,
images that most wouldn’t understand
or bother to try.
And hated in life
we are loved when we die.