to tell you the truth
i'm more of a drunk than a poet

my teachers taught me well
and i thought i had something to give

but with each word i pen or type
it seems like i just take away some more
and if i had a poem for every blackout
i'd have a couple books by now

my mind still works in stanzas
i still chase gothic girls
with pigtails in their hair
and nin shirts on their ****
but 4/4 doesn't cut it any more
and no matter how good i am
at small talk
or in a large bed my slumber
comes in a light sleep

my heroes all wanted to die
and though i never wanted to be a hero
i did want to die
i always have

when i was eight i stood at the top of an eight
story building and i thought about jumping
today i told "my friend" i wish i would

all i want's some pot to smoke
and a girl to lick
and some love to stick on to this roasting
carrion carry-on that won't get past my detectors

i'd hate to think i did to you
what had been done to me
but
neglect is a part of my project
and without your suffering
none of this
yes - none of this
would have been possible

i think they owe you a drink
oh, wait
i think they owe you a tenth
or at the very least a pack
a pack of what, you ask
well, no you don't

because it's ****ing heroin i'm typing of

clever with the theft, i'll give you that
but though you were the better liar
i was the better thief
and stole from you the pieces of a girl
all girls who have been stolen from
will beg to recollect

have them back
they're worthless to me now
that's me
get it
take it all in
your breath
always smelled like cinnamon
or toothpaste
and sometimes even that zebra gum chapstick
and i'd know you came to get me off

this is the last stop

i mingled with the fishes
i inked up with the anarchists
and in real life i boxed with the scrappers
and boxed up the scraps
and scrapped a couple times
in lonely, snow covered fields at night

i minged with the fishes
i inked up with the anarchists
i pretended to try to od on aspirin
and talked a kid named meow_mix_ttc through his parents' divorce

you sucked off a couple addicts
and now i know i'm one of them

the things you think you'll have forever
you usually never have a tenth in your possession

this is the shittiest gift i could give
to a place that supported me
in a silly sort of way

but it gave me purpose
conversation
relaxation
distraction

and i mingled with the fishes
and i snuggled with a faerie
and i made out with a blonde
and i shed my soul to a bi girl
who might have never known my name

i mingled with the mangled
and came out just as tangled
with a couple rhymes

this one's free
my guarantee is only that
it will be the last
you hear of me

bent and cut
out and over
i'm staying handcuffed
to the composer

i mingled and mangled
danced and i dangled
but i balanced the moon
while you balanced a spoon

the only gift that i know how to give
is not recording this in my list of poems

peace is for the weak
war is for the confused
and thought is for the bored

severance is served

Your gifts are awesome, I wish you could see that. Fantastic write.

Absolutely your gifts are awesome...I too, wish you could see that, and Leigh, the same with you...Both of you are amazing...

Thanks Ainjel.

Awesome, not only do you write from deep inside, your poems reverberate, so we can feel what you feel

a fan

I took my time,reading..and was fasinated.
I enjoyed this read.

You are amazing! And you have much to give!

If you could see yourself through my eyes, you might wonder who you were looking at...