today might have been
one of those days
where jokes are as funny

as they are painful

what can i say
when i want to say
too much?

i should say nothing

instead, i listen
to you waiting
for me to laugh

until i feel comedy

playful punches being
laid to rest, softly
slowly on my head

100 words.

i do things that you do not
lick fire off my fingers
pick the lint off my face
i do them every day

watch it burning all my prints
satisfied with the loss
of whatever they told me
i am

peel my skin
to find out how old
i am today

grow and regrow
without end

i am not so old
that i have forgotten

what i might
have forgotten
though i might not remember

the breakdown of
a single
inhale
i count

my last words are these

my last words are always
the same

i do this every day.

cold things.

tonight, when i'm in
the shower before it gets hot

walking in the direction
the clouds are floating in

in my dad's old silk shirt
faded green and white

thin jail stripes
think of his death

which hasn't happened yet
but will someday

think of how cold it is
and how warm it was

this morning
when i was already clean.

behind the red marijuana moon
a trash bag makes love to a tree
branching out beyond its plastic
boundaries, bobbing up and down

what can you do
on nights like these
when the wind tickles
your hair growing out

the dandelions are gossiping
and the sky looks smashed
and no one cares about you
or how you bruised your toe

no wonder you feel so lonely

but really, you just need a kiss
from the nearest drunk person
whispering to you about how
today, nothing really matters

either way you go.

grounded by pain.

can't tell mom i'm sick.

floated in water, carried away.

i'm afraid i said too much this time

and stupidity is

hoping for

best-case scenario.

on narcissism.

sarah asks

and i say

because that's almost all i am
derrida--and i don't even pretend to understand his theories--but i think he says this--says that all love is really essentially narcissism
and i think that's true
and i love the idea of love
so i love the idea of narcissism
the idea of loving others through loving the self
and loving the self through loving others
reflective.
echoes.
i like these things.

then

twelve minutes later

"oh my God my head hurts"

the closet holds everything on an ideal night.

howls like the wind bruised in a broken bottle

don't ask, don't tell

but i was here first.

staying late.

i am your lock with the key inside.

i don't remember the details, but i remember the ideas.
impressions of this, this, and this, is failed expression.

in the dream, he casually asked me out to dinner, then proceeded to hug and snuggle into the girl he was sitting next to. jerkface.

magic kiss
to make this
cough go
away?

then three or
four words
waiting to jump
off the cliff

with or
without wings

hope is the thing...

feathers waiting to float on
kinder waves of air.

a love token.
a burnt out matchstick.
a joke from you.