sitting by the river being all proud of myself (truth)

I am homely, driving in my car
             waiting
how many words do you think are in my vocabulary
how many words do you think of me
  I'm too something to something
  some pre-you pre-yous I'm doing, I'm after
I'm tired
I'm sprinklers, I'm sprinkling under summer
I'm sorry, I'm out
my car will die
I'll need a jump
I'll dry eye the night
but I'll
  sing at the tops of me
Truth
  with its un
recognizable
bassclarinet
     goodbye
         I'm asleep
            & truly
         from the mist
         from the most severest place
       are my apologies

who do i think i am

I did enough last night to justify

my never leaving the house

  oh... you're moving to new orleans?

  but I was planning

to go there, to never have to see you again

  and we could have gone together

  and you didn't have to give up on me

  and you could have given me a chance!

  because you're the one!

I'm the one,

  right

we were yelling in front of the bar,

  and we were crying

  bc I hear you so well

but I don't think you can with your dead ears.

do I get credited for the ruins of someone else's heart, now?

do I get to be the guy 

do I get to be the beloved, for a change?

  ha

I left & walked, and did some unsavory

  business in front of my old highschool. I was laughing, now

    and I rode my bike home

      and I did more bad things

        some regretables

          but I haven't any apologies

    I just keep

 trying

for some reason

 to not be

   the one, anymore

bash

I am mad because it isn't about me

the turns you take, aren ot to find me

and out of All of the whips to take, yours is the kind I like most

and 

and 

and I won t pretend, anything

and sometimes I say, I won t pretend anything

and sometimes, sometimes, I don t 

but, also! also! I won t promise

because promises, promises, promises! something I got to know earlier! hello, promise, hello my little sweet, like the icecream you want me to, oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh 

just take yer top off!

sorry, sorry, I got another call. hold on...

okay, hey sorrrry! o god, are youstill there? bushes

hmmm bushes,
o god irrelevant

but see, sometimes I stay at Gayle's, and I always throw the scraps of vegetables into her bushes

and this is my mother, of course

Gayle. & how I'd destroy her.

It isn't late enough, I've realized. so, apologies! once, I made someone fall in love with me through apologies! & through the promises, promises that we wouldn t. watch how we died back then? 

goodnight, & good for us. I won t try to promise,
I promise to not pretend anything
and I promise to promise to always fall in love with you when I will. & I don t mean iff

hello, beautiful

Why? Because my blood is thick. I have all these tortured organs, I know it. I make them whipped. They ache, but with smiles across them. My sweet little heart getting big on itself. Making hard itself. That tumescent little thing. My mouths filled with apologies which fall out and disappear on a breeze. No one will hear! not even my own opened ears. My filthy fingers reaching for yours. Your cups in mine. Mine own overflowing. The quiet cold, my heartattack building, the mossy breeches of the nailed fingers, traipsing, traipsing toward yours. Yonder fingers tracing over mine mossy knuckles. But this is love, no? shall we argue? Nothing in me is for an argument. I give up, relentless, restless, accepting, open, whole, heartedly, whole. The whole hole filled with heartblood, gushing, retracting, sucking itself off. Never relenting, never detumescing. The various plaids of my outershells, my chitinous fibres. My camouflage, our matching stripes and shades. I will be there, you know it. I will scrape you off, when you need it. I will sing when you like me, I will look when your eyes are away. And still keep it when they turn back towards, inevitably. Do you still read me now?

I'm elevated

Thanks for all the notice. The honey of sonoran bees. The limes, the sparkling metal of a cup. My beringed fingers, the faces in memory. The old ones, the nonresponses. How can you have so many histories, so close together like that? Hiding out in the cool humidity, seeing the sun out there & fighting it, the money, the food, the apologies, the wanting to get it all over with & good. Avoidance of goodbyes, the patience in hellos. Your hair is short your hair is long. Your hair is aubergine, it is curls. It is thick & your head is large, it isn't changed, but you with guns, now. The new me, the new her, and the shes in between. The ancient heart of yours still there & with it. The love interests never losing any. Multiples. I am here, on this couch constant, getting stirred from ahead, waiting till body to catch on.