I have felt myself
        losing grips on my own sanity.
maybe I do want to draw all over myself.
               because to some,
   that’s what crazy people look like.
    

                 maybe 
                someday
           i’ll find someone  
          who isn’t always
            the one to say
              “goodnight”
                     first 

                                            If i knew how to teach you
                                       to find safety in uncertainty
                                   I would assign you 
                              every book
                         my body has to offer. 

I have so skillfully hidden 
all of my wounds from myself,
I cannot find a single scar 
to show off.
and when you so causally state, 

“you get hurt a lot”

I cant help but wonder,
where the hell
have you been looking. 

I can’t pretend it isn’t right 
for me to end days alone, 
when there Is no part of my back
I cant reach by myself. 

writing 
thinking 
writing 
thinking
in a line
that little red line 
under 74% of the words I type.
maybe the spelling would be better
if my tongue could be my pen instead, 
toung 
tung 
tounge 
tougne 
tongue
the word I cant spell
ever
not just when I am drunk
not just when my mind makes loops
all the time
what i never understood was
how in order to learn how to spell a word
you had to look it up in the dictionary
but to look it up in the dictionary
you had to know how to spell it.
that was the thought 
that would punch me in the gut
and keep me at the table
for a childhood hour 
staring 
at that big red dictionary
from my mothers shelf.
I always knew better then to ask 
“how do you spell….”
but sometimes it just slipped out
and got slammed down 
underneath that heavy red cover.
No, if i could catch it first
i would pick a different word.
” the girl was a vegitarian ”
vegitarian
vegiterian
vejitarian
vegetarian…?
dont ask them
dont ask them
dont ask them
“the girl didn’t eat meat”  

Rosie
Aldo
Edison 

What else could fill your heart,
then to tell her you love her
and hear to her return with
” I believe you.”
Only ever having recognized 
that feeling 
from acts of love
from God,
Proving his existence in you.
A love so strange
she doesn’t understand it,
A love so large,
she cannot deny that it’s real. 

I’ll die young.
I’ll die short.
I’ll die quiet.
I’ll die tired.
I’ll die dirty.
I’ll die.
I’ll die. 
I’ll die,
but I’ll be damned
if I don’t die smart. 

              And who is to say
that I must abide within whoever can
      wrap their arms around me
              and call it “love” 
                         ?

My vocabulary is small.
I have little humility.
I am stubbornly dirty.
I feel colors in my head.
I leave my mouth to run.

and as long as I can open your eyes
to this existence of me,
I wont feel so guilty in the end.
 

           
                even though
              you wrote them,
                  I get to say
                 those words 
                 are all mine. 
         what fine gifts you give
with only your pen and your tongue.
     making me feel so valuable
        with all of these words
          that you invest in me.