For Riot

Send me your parent's address.
I'll send you letters.

July 3rd waiting for the J train

Some asshat in the bar kept asking me what I was trying to say with my poetry.

I told him I wasn't trying to say anything except for what was on the page.

He did not like that.

He wanted me to have some bigger picture, some over arching theme to my work and wouldn't let it go the whole night.

I told him to get fucked.

June 10th 2013 1:21 AM at Croc Roc for lil joey's shift

I should not be drinking this much
I should not be thinking these thoughts

Keep your knees together
You know it won't happen ever

Keep on sipping and slurping
Keep on dreaming and thinking

Of how sweet it could be
But how bitter it would be

Would it be? Does it have to be?
Isn't there a chance it will be fine?
Not only fine- but delicious and divine?

Something you desire, can also be something you deserve.

Why does it have to be wrong?
The worst that could happen is you sleep alone.

And reminisce upon kisses you can savor like sugar cubes

The sweetness of a passion so young
Tender buds of may
Who fuck the night away
A fleeting fury that now resides in dreams

You are allowed to imagine,
Allowed to dream.

Allowed to remember,
allowed to surrender.

There are worse things in this world

Than opening your skin
to allow another in.

You could sit alone, pacing your mind
watching nothing unfold.

It's not me, it's you

YOU, are not a nice person.
Especially in relation to me.
There is only so much a person can take,
And I've been taking it
With a grain of salt
And a spoon full of sugar.

Now
My blood pressure is through the roof
And I've got no feet from the diabetes.

Really,
It's not me- It's you.
I've done as much as I can
I've taken all I can carry
I am out of ideas and my back is broken
So it is time for me to tell you
To fuck off and die
And for me to find
Something else
Better or worse
Only time will tell
But as of right now
It's not you- of that I am sure as hell.