poems:

free floating anxiety mess
slapping me in my own special darkness
back into submission
"getting a little confidence there little one?"
cant allow that
not there, not now
unsettled in my skin
i want darkness
&beer
&heavy depressing music
- a nice suicide soundtrack
self isolated
ears ringing with the sound of my solitary breath
i can see how music influences the depressed to kill themselves
& i hate this sobriety
my head is clear
& in insane overdrive
i have no outlet save for these words,
and i cannot get them out
at the warp(ed) speed
that my brain is firing
all those lost thoughts floating into oblivion
is this maddness?
or depression?
or just the nothingness crowding my soulless belief system?
i need to stop my head from spinning
or turn up the music and drown it out..



when the beer is gone
count out the last few remaining pain killers
cut them in 1/2
so some will be left
when they are needed
then the brain starts screaming chaotic hate chants
self doubt and loathing
and a 1/2 is needed
sucking on the bitterness of it
calms for a while
until another is needed
until there are none left
later
laying in bed
eyes open to darkness
muscles tight/jaw clenched
jump up out of bed
pull back out
run to the garbage
&
lick the white powder
out of the bottom of the bottle



mixing slim fast and coffee
b/c that is what one does
when coming down off
booze /pills
b/c it takes the edge off
when you are getting too much control
over your words & thoughts



i started to work out again
because when i look into the mirror
i see my grandmothers, my mother, my sister.
i wear my genetic line like a fat suit
a distorted vision of what i will become
without constant body work



i read poetry
while working out
hoping for inspiration
with the persperation
i stumble back up stairs
on aching muscles
and sit at my desk
out of the corner of my eye
i watch the empties creep upon themselves
and over to me
clinking reality
chuckling at my breathless 15 minutes
begging for me to help them reproduce
they are barren
so i flex my muscles on the opener
feel my aching stomach muscles as i add to their group
and stare at the empty page
& idle pen



my brother says color is good
as he stands in his orange shirt and blue jeans
people look at you and see black clothes and think darkness and depression.
funny i say
i did not realize that clothing color reflected ones soul



mourning my lost eyebrow piercings so i put in a new ear piercing, old spot, where my ex monster slammed my head on the foot board of the bed until my ear split, and i ran out into the cold plattsburg feb night in a t-shirt and sweatpants.
went to my friends house and they were not home, bled on their porch
i am surprised mike did not find me, just follow the blood trail
i stumbled past the gay bar, and stared at that for a while, afraid of what i was feeling inside, afraid that i wanted it, so i just bled on their sidewalk before stumbling home. he had left and gone to his apt to sleep off the 12 pk of beer..
i sat in the bottom of the shower crying as my blood & tears poured down the drain..

so i pierce my self
need new holes to replace the old
need new gaping blood soaked orafice
red & fertile
to birth my demons
red-flow release
wound weeping warm blood red tears
purging pain in pain