Tuesday, November 12, 2013

a story without an ending

Friends, Hold the Benefits

An agreement we both made,
late at night
when the inhibitions are low
and the lights are too.

Our midnight conversations
and the playful flirtation
gave way to this confession,
You kept me up all night.

I didn’t want you to slip away,
I grasped at anything I could,
the attraction was exhilarating
and you infuriated me.

The looks we exchanged,
the secret smiles we shared,
knowing our contract was sealed
and waiting to be signed.

But it never came to fruition,
and I felt you withdraw,
waiting for the benefits to kick in,
but they never did.

The premium was too high,
Or maybe I was just too much of

A Pirate and his Rum

A pirate and his rum,
a codependent bond.
Because what good is rum
if it will not be drunk?

And what good are your lips,
if they will not move
and form the words to free
me from this uncertainty.

A mermaid and her penchant,
for things she can’t have.
Legs to walk on land,
or to attract the pirate man.

And what could be more fitting,
than a pirate and a mermaid,
to intertwine, and intertwine their
love of the sea.


These are the thoughts that fuel alcoholism in your middle age
the what-ifs and regrets return like an old friend.
The possibilities now like dead end signs or
neon lights fallen into disrepair
sputtering and shaking til it goes out.
And there’s an irony that your disinterest
catalyzed my addiction
when you swore to never become
your father.
But it isn’t your fault
We were predisposed and this is fate.
This is bullshit.
The way humans can affect you
simulating a drunken feeling and
I never got as drunk again as I
felt with you.
I chased the sensations to try to
recreate you.
There’s no way your chemicals don’t
react the same way.
This is madness.
An obsession
Fix me, fix me
I need this.
Just a taste on my lips
just a touch on your skin.
Can you be addicted before your first time?
Maybe the anticipation is the rush,
the trip, the experience.
Make me clean,
break me whole
fuck me

Sirens and Sirens

Hazards and warnings,
to keep us safe,
but there is no precaution for
the shards and cuts
sustained from this.

It used to be my favorite place to be,
the water could camouflage me,
distorting the flaws I carry,
but it only seemed to illuminate,
and make the blemishes more clear.

My inexperience became apparent,
my cockiness caught up.
You let me drown.

I accepted it at first,
a whirlpool pulling me under.
When I realized what had happened though,
that you were waving from your ship,
safely in its harbor,
I was alone.

This siren lost her voice,
and didn’t scream for help.

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