1.
your words are scattered on my floor.
picking them up, the world shrinks,
cringes.
i'm trying to re-arrange them,
ease the pain,
mix your message
and convince myself this is a
twisted
nightmare,
but your nouns are stubborn
and they're burning my fingertips.
the mattress shrugs, knowing what comes next.
ocean irises crack and release waves of
salt,
staining the sheets,
waking the walls.

1.
blood running thick with
d
o
w
n
e
r
s

the cold air is a needed kiss-
a distraction
from the frigid thought tumbling around:
do it
do it
do it
do i-
another quick breath
through my nose
the itch satisfied,
powder dissolved in the cavity
a hazy world.

1.
the basement's most wanted
provides the southern comfort
needed to put those carpeted words
between my lips
and relay them for buzzing ears
but-
and then he-
[fuck]
this warped little mind
takes a smoke break,
leaving the other organs to try and remember
why i started crying
when and where
who
...what?


03 10 11 - i don't remember writing this.