Lonely Me

i have a massive crush on a girl

that volunteers at the library downtown.

 

i run into her at the events they hold,

and the first time i met her,

she was wearing a black dress with lilies on them,

lilies are my favorite,

the blue ones were pale and matched her eyes,

the pink ones were light,

her hair was dark, with saturated red,

over the brown

 

i was drunk off the free beer,

and lifted my shirt to show her my tattoos,

it didn’t seem terribly out of taste

until i woke up the next morning,

 

 

but i saw her again on Saturday at a reading,

and she smiled,

we only talked more, and laughed just a little,

saying she would send me a text

 

i don’t know how many more times

i can dismantle  and reassemble myself,

in my sober hours,

it is too much to ask of anyone,

 

but once more always seems reasonable

when i look into a woman’s eyes,

and she smiles

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For the Record

walking home from the library downtown,

trying to create a beautiful snowball,

light years in the night

 

brushing her hair out of the way

kissing her naked shoulder as we lie in bed,

in the gold green afternoon

 

waking up to shower in my room,

drinking a shot of whiskey before i drive to work,

in my blue mornings

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No Matter How Old I Get

no matter how tall i’ve gotten,

or how often i hit the gym,

trying to muscle up like my father,

i’m still that nervous little boy

that didn’t know how to talk to people,

even if he desperately wanted to

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Why so Lonely?

my father would come home each night from work,

and he would walk into the kitchen with his black uniform still one,

and before he said anything,

he’d hug my mother

i walk into an empty home,

lay down my suitcase,

and lean back in this computer chair,

trying to think of something else

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Remembered

i hope that when you try to remember who i am,

you see me driving over the great american highways

through the speckled night

with December rushing in the open window,

i’m shirtless stomping my cowboy boots

and drumming on the steering wheel,

howling with the radio on,

 

i hope that when you put me back together

in your mind,

you see my vision on fire, and cook marshmallows,

that you see a man that tried to love

and burned brightly

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the War for My Mind

the war against my compulsive thought process continues

fought with

irish whiskey

embers of weed

deafening music

and  sweet lonely poetry

one day my mind will overtake me,

and i may lose myself in wheel chair

with my head eternally cocked to one side

saying nothing,

but my thoughts strolling along magnificent hills

that i can see through the clinic windows,

but today

i fight!

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I’m just a Gold Fish

stop shaking my

fucking bowl

will you!

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