PL3AS3

Please be mine girl

cos you’re so damn fine girl.

I tell you I love you

but you don’t say it back girl.

You make me feel new emotions

butterflies in my belly, feel like I could hurl. I hug you

you hug back.

I kiss your forehead

your half hidden smile slips out. Wanna be with you every hour of the day, because it hurts seeing you walk away.

You’re all I want

because what can I say?

You haunt….

my mind like a fucking ghost.

I want you here so I can host

a little get together to raise a toast

to the future I see,

but I know that will have you headed for the nearest signpost.

3nd 1t

Standing in front of the mirror, 

staring back at myself.

All i see is an empty shell, 

running out of health.

I numb myself to hide the pain,

but the drugs and the drink is just making me insane.

No one to turn to,

no way to escape.

What do I have to do to end this?

Is it my life I will have to take?

The voices in my head tell me to do it, 

the voices from my heart say push through it.

I’m weak,

my life is getting bleak.

I’m on the edge,

I need someone to pull me back,

before this knot tightens around my neck.

UNTITLED 1*

I don’t sleep much at night,

I just lay awake with my ceiling light.

That little flash is my glimmer of hope,

my light at the end of the tunnel that helps me cope.

I’m left alone with my thoughts,

caught in a battle between me, myself, and I.

Holding back the tears that I’d wish to hide.

I despise sleeping alone,

so I invite anyone in to disguise my pain.

I refrain from the exchange of names because I know they won’t be there when I open my eyes.

I love to hear the rain,

the heavier the better.

The empty echo of the pitter patter,

imitates the chitter chatter I so long to hear.

I have trouble letting people in.

It stems from my fear of appearing weak.

The fear of compromising the paper thin dam I call my exterior.

However, the care that I seek,

can now only be found at the bottom of a bottle,

or from a Xanax peak.

I’m empty like the countless whiskey and pill bottles on my dresser.

The booze and the Benzos always kisses me goodnight.

But they don’t work anymore,

the only thing that works is her.

Shes never here.

Buts she’s always there,

entangled in my thoughts.

Her pale blue eyes,

stamped on my mind,

like the images pressed into the pills I take to feel joy for a few hours at night.

Trum4n

Rearrange “the meaning of life,”

You get “the engine of a film.”

What’s real? What’s false?

Am I living? Am I breathing?

Or am I just an extra,

At someone else’s premier screening?

When a woman wears yoga pants, it’s just her naked body with a texture pack.

He’s so weird at bath time. I’m glad he likes them tho. Haha

FEEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN NO ONE ELSE CAN FEEL IT FOR YOU

Will Smith went to London and dressed up as a Boots sales assistant to promote Jaden’s new water brand ….. what dimension are we living in

i wish i could be an illiterate 16th century milkmaid but alas. i don’t have the tits

me, making a phone call: god i hope they don’t answer

me at 60 years old, a renown art critic with 29 masters degrees and 15 phds in art history giving a lecture at yale: this painting gets my dick rock hard 

— Anne Sexton, from The Complete Poems; “Crossing the Atlantic,” (edited)