peeling bandages, platonic skyThere were no stars in Vegas
until I found you.
Alas, there are other stars
in the sky. Brighter stars,
maybe. But I like my star,
what used to be my star
before we both
Everyday wears me downA year ago today I left you sitting on the street looking up at the sky with your black eyes, hands pooled in your lap. Your pianist's fingers still for once. I had small hands and I used to envy how your fingers bridged octaves so damn easily.
You said, 'It's going to rain.'
And I walked away.
The day before I left, I wrote you a song.
I don't think you understand. Jason. David. Whoever you want to be today.
How your hands snag on my hair and the way
you make me smile even when I'm about to fall apart
Last winter I cradled my heart ─
I never finished. It was cold and quiet in my room. Outside the sun blazed down. The air conditioner buzzed. I drank the last of my Coke and dripped splotchy tears all over the sheets. I heard you were a player from a friend of a friend. She told me I'd better watch out.
A player. Yeah, I could believe that. You were always the best at whatever you did. Playing Mozart. Playing your audience to oblivion. Playing girl's hearts. I sh
in need of desperate resolvingi want your heartfelt autograph;
i have some unfinished business
involving compatibility & closure
trick question: why does my memory's
doppelgänger look like your reflection?
i'm lucid dreaming while awakeDear My Psychokinetic Boy:
Let's learn astral projection
in ninety days. I'll be in Las
Vegas, and you'll be in San
Diego, but every night we'll
meet in my dreams. You'll
karate chop the monsters,
protect me from banshees
and incubi, bubble wrap us
in energy forcefield shields.
Let's learn teleportation
before the twentyninth,
your halfbirthday. Then
we could see each other
whenever you'd start to
miss me or whenever I'd
start to miss you. Or to
kiss your lips goodnight.
changing your dress or addressi sent you my love,
with a big fat fucking
ugly stamp on it.
RETURN TO SENDER
i guess my love wasn't enough.
maybe i should have bought you
a better ego or pair of sunglasses
you'd only wear once. new clothes
to match this month's persona. oh,
aren't you fashionable? my fashion
of intricate packaging love letters
with pretty ritzy glitzy glitter
and a cathartic bow on top.
laced with ribbon. purple.
no, no, no. TRY AGAIN.
maybe the mail glitched?
i re-sent you my love.
correction: i resent you, my love
and its one sip, two sips, three,
last chance to be that one in a million,
a lone rocket in a sky full of stars
you are two out of three, and i don't stand any different
in this crowded room full of strangers
but they're smiling at me so i am smiling back
four sips, five
and i am beginning to think that this will never peak
cold stays with you, forever after your bones have reheated back up
and i am telling you this because right now i am wishing that this
swishing in my bones won't ever boil down
and it makes me think that i will never peak
and this is as good as it gets i swear to god
if i had any air left at all in my lungs
i would save it all for you so you could stop telling me
that i take your breath away, because those are just the drugs
speaking in small gasps
through those cherry red lips of yours
and i could just crumple to pieces at the thought of letting go
but either way i am lonely, lonely, fucking lonely
but these fing