getting burned casually

Home was good:  

I caught up with friends 

And ran over every single curb in Grandview 

I got a haircut;  

I look like August 

One of my friends also got his hair cut; 

He looks like someone’s prison bitch 

It’s still February 

And now we both have cold heads  

I learned exciting new idioms:  

I learned that it is possible to walk on your lips 

I learned that it is also possible to knit your brow  

I was going through some old art today 

And I found a self-portrait study I drew a week or so before I was admitted to the hospital last year,  

I felt like death at the time 

Hence the arrow piercing my skull 

It’s pretty hilarious  

But ominous and frighteningly foreshadowing at the same time 

Also, I think this is what I might look like when I’m thirty:

I’ve been bleeding a lot lately: 

My fingers bleed because it’s cold 

I cut my nose* shaving today and bled all over the bathroom 

(Everything smells like copper) 

And now I’m bleeding all over my room 

Because I accidentally ripped a scab off my foot;  

I don’t know where the scab came from 

But that means I was bleeding earlier at some point too 

It’s a good thing I don’t have a vagina  

If I did, I’d probably be on my period 

Bleeding.  

*I’m usually graceful 

I’m even a graceful drunk 

When I vomit, it’s poetic 

But I wasn’t graceful today, AND I was sober 

There are three cuts stacked along the bottom of my right nostril 

If this scars, I’m joining the circus  

Friday, I went with Dylan to see her mom at the hospital

She looked like hell, but she was cracking jokes 

What an incredible quality  

To be able to laugh in the face of death 

I wish I were that brave  

It snowed all weekend 

Luckily, it didn’t accumulate 

But the roads were icy 

So I slid around  

Last night was pleasant,  

I went over to Alia’s and met up with Addie and Sam 

We feasted on chocolate and chain-smoked 

Wetting our tongues with piping hot black coffee. 

At one point, Alia was smoking a cigarette 

And the cherry fell out into her lap, 

She nonchalantly picked up the ember with her fingers 

And dropped it in the ash tray, continuing the conversation as if nothing happened, 

I was visibly alarmed 

She replied: “I get burned casually”  

I don’t.  

I flail.  

Then, Alia’s computer wouldn’t boot, 

She fiddled around with it for a bit, and it decided to think about starting up.  

“we shouldn’t watch” she concluded, “a watched pot never boils” 

and that reminded me of something I heard once 

about finding love when you least expect it 

and I wondered if waiting for love is like waiting water to boil or waiting for a frozen computer to boot 

and if thinking about it too much really does magically prevent it from happening 

but I digress  

Alia seemed stressed 

So I lit her a cigarette 

Sam offered to clean her dishes 

And Addie rooted Alia on 

Alia decided we were wonderful guests 

And we decided Alia was a wonderful hostess 

And it was all so wonderful 

And I’m glad 

Because I like it when things are wonderful.  

tables

I think
Today is the first day of spring
I don’t know why,
Things just feel different
But in a good way;
I am content. 

I realize it’s still February
But I’m done with February
I’m boycotting it
Fuck February, 
It’s March, man
& it’s going to be march for the next forty-five days
you down?


Good. 




I woke up really early this morning 
6:50 to be exact, 
From a dream about tables
I can’t remember most of the details
Just this:

“a table 
is only as good 
as the people 
you let sit around it”



which is actually kind of profound
even if it’s really odd. 







after that
I couldn’t fall back asleep, 
So I went out for a cigarette

It was beautiful 
There was no noise
Except for the birds
The sky was blue
There were still traces of sunrise in the clouds
And no one was out. 
I felt like I was the only person alive
It was a beautiful moment
It was private
shared by no one.
And it was mine. 















It’s very likely that I’m still drunk right now. 
But I think I’m going to get ready for the day. 




















“February. Get ink, shed tears.
Write of it, sob your heart out, sing,
While torrential slush that roars
Burns in the blackness of the spring.”

as if things couldn't get any more twisted..

my aunt rose just died. 

(happy friday the thirteenth, eh?)





I really don't know what to think at this point.
I'm really fucking sad she's gone, 
but she was ready to go
she said so herself.. 
my aunt sheryl was talking to her a few months back
& she said she felt it was time, 
that this lifetime was holding her back
that she was ready for the next great adventure 



I'm just glad she's not in pain anymore
she was so fragile


Jesus.. 

I'm going to fucking miss you aunt rose. 


I guess when she was in the hospital, 
she was delirious
and she said she met barack obama's mama, 
maybe she fucking did. 

Hear that barack?
your mom's getting down with my aunt fucking rose, 
raising hell I'm sure
don't worry,
she's in good hands. 


It's good to be able to laugh about this 
she wouldn'tve wanted us to fuss over her. 

and now I'm crying


Jeeze. 

I need a fucking break. 




everyone be careful. 
February is on the loose again 
and it's back with a vengeance
between the lunar eclipse 
the full moon 
(the random hurricane?)
and everyone going absolutely nutty
I think something is amidst. 
something wicked this way comes.
this feels like some kind of murder mystery
and who knows where it's going to strike next.
keep on your toes
and take fucking care. 

on love, and valentine's day

There is absolutely nothing wrong 
With hand written letters
Trimmed in ribbon and lace, 
Embroidered with doilies, 
And sealed with lipstick kisses. 

There is absolutely nothing wrong 
With beautiful poetry 
Inked in elegant calligraphy
Acting as a catalyst for the heart
And detailing sentiments of the soul

There is absolutely nothing wrong
With bouquets of paper flowers,
Homemade cardiac-shaped cakes,
Dinners by candlelight,
Rose petal trails,
And bottles of ruby red wine for two








There is absolutely nothing wrong 
With stopping, and taking the time 
To express your love to another
And basking in the beauty 
And the magic 
You created together. 




















I am single. 
I am aware. 







I could be bitter, 
But I’m not. 



On Saturday, I could run around in an alanis morissette wig, weeping hysterically and burning things, 
But I’m not going to. 











Instead, 
I will watch happy couples
And be happy for them. 






Living in an age
Where everything seems so bleak
And there is such a lack of joy
And an abundance of hatred,
It seems pointless 
And counterproductive 
To be bitter
And contribute to the gloom
And rag on the one truly pure 
And beautiful 
And wonderful 
And rare exchange
Of love
From one human being 
To another. 

our house

It’s official,  

We have a house next year. 

 

Look at that front porch.  

It’s beautiful,  

I can’t wait to sit out there 

And chain-smoke 

And drink wine  

And watch the scenery change. 

And be on painkillers  

And yell at the hooligans 

 

note the hooligan.  

I have two fucking amazing housemates.  

I have my own bedroom.  

It has a fireplace.

Make sure you come over 

So I can be a host

And offer you drinks.

you oughta know

You took something from me,
And I want it back. 













You stole a piece of my heart
Extracted a part of my soul:
You recorded my voice
You took my art
And accepted my gifts








You pleasured me 
You made me laugh
You made me smile
You made me feel worthwhile
You made me feel validated














You used me, 
You exploited me

And still, I ate your cake. 








You took my love














And ran. 














You took an intimate part of me 
A part I rarely share
That I’ll never get back 
And you don’t even care. 







No
As a matter of fact,
I’m not over it. 
Call me crazy 
I don’t care. 
Because you’re just as twisted. 
You knew
Exactly 
What you were doing.






“you call it over 
and I call you psycho
significant other?
Just say we were lovers 
And we’ll call it even…

and if we should meet 
through some misunderstanding
ill be very sweet very patient and forgiving
(now get off my side of the state)

and if we should meet 
one another in passing
despite these techniques 
there is sometimes no avoiding
(there must be some kind of mistake)

we'll raise high our white flags 
and bow heads and shake hands
declaring the land we're on unamerican 
we'll call it even..


My place may be taken 
But make no mistake
From a little black book 
I can say without shame
That you’ve lost
Do you know what you’ve lost?”





Probably not. 


And it kills me. 
I’m honestly disgusted. 













And what’s more disgusting

I still miss you. 

Even after you showed no remorse or guilt or appreciation 
I still miss you. 








“can’t you just fix it for me?
I’ll pay you well,
Fuck, I’ll give you anything
If you could end this”

I'm on fire.

I feel good. 
Today was good. 

I woke up hangover free.
I went outside this morning for a cigarette, and it was forty-four degrees. 
The snow was melting. 
The sun was shining. 
And I actually felt WARM. 
I didn’t shiver. 
I didn’t feel like screaming. 
I could actually enjoy my ENTIRE cigarette without wanting to run inside and dive under a mountain of blankets. 

I cleaned. 
I called my friends. 
I called my mom. 
She decided winter was over because she is also sick of being cold all the time. 
(I sincerely hope her proclamation holds true, and even if it doesn’t, I’ll still love her)
I took a shower.
I shaved my face. 
I didn’t cut myself.
(& I didn’t trim my pubes; oops)
I took out the trash. 
I did laundry. 
I danced.
I was productive. 

I went to dinner with a friend. 
For some reason, everyone in the cafeteria was wearing suits and looked really handsome. 
I had holes in my clothes,
We had salt on the backs of our jeans,
We felt underdressed. 

My friend spilled her drink, and everyone looked angry, so we ran away.

Then we ate ice cream, 
And it was delicious. 
And all was well. 

I didn’t watch the super bowl. 
I don’t even know who played. 
Or who won.
And I’m okay with that. 

Instead, my roommate and I went over to a friend’s to borrow a movie.
As we were leaving, our friend gave me a dozen or so little stuffed hearts. 
They made me happy. 







(Everyone I know is in love. 
All of my friends are in love. 
The figures in my paintings are in love. 
The people making out on tv are in love. 
And it’s beautiful.)







Then my roommate and I fed our heads
And watched alice in wonderland. 
It was nonsense.

Afterwards, we feasted on pizza. 
And it wasn’t as good as when I was drunk last night. 
But all was well. 

I just stole some of my roommate’s Nyquil (again)
And my roommate is throwing up. 
My saliva is red. 
So is his vomit. 
And I’m going to sleep really well tonight. 
And even though I’ll be sleeping alone, 
All will be well. 

“god, it’s been a lovely day, 
everything is going my way. 
I had so much fun today 
And I’m on fire”

Today was a good day. 
And I’m on fire.