Quit Trying

"I quit trying"

I over heard the 

Heartache sound of

Disappointment from

A woman holding a dog

"Quit what?"

The understand friend across

From her asks, eyes wide with interest, 

But not sincerely intrigued 

"To get married"

Oh, yes. The women with the dog,

A poodle to be exact,

Quite cute with it's fluff and attachment,

Is the one who stops before it even begins.

The modesty of it all.

The innocence.

And the failure.

Jumping Rivers

I look once more,

The probabilities and 

Misconceptions.

The comfort that can be

Obtained with the touch of rain dripping down our backs

The chills run swiftly

And the comfort of a stone

Would create the ultimatum

That I would never have to decide 

But I'm stronger

In such a way I could 

Jump over the river.

Ah, shit.

I fell in.

Post-Problems

I don't want to

But you go ahead,

With your eyes 

In domination,

Trying to control

But then in the end

We all have problems

Probably even the ones

Where death and life

Is involved 

Summer Toxins

The quiet night of summer,

With it's endless streets

Of infinite dreams

It's the sound of Breathing

The pain within  

It's the strike of a match

That burns a deep red 

slowly turning black

It's the lifting of a cigarette

And inhaling the toxins 

It's the wishing what was,

Or the thinking it could have been,

But in reality,

It never even existed

Anger

I can't do this anymore 

I can't do this anymore

And this thing that I can't do,

I just keep doing it

And doing it

And fucking doing it.

Just stop. 

Stop it.

This moment of 

Pacing back and forth

Breathing hard,

Harder to breathe 

Soon collapsing 

Convulsing.

Panic strikes me 

Like a slave being 

Beaten by his master. 

What the fuck am I doing? 

What am I thinking!

Staring at this movie,

Alone in the room,

Photos of promise

But the smell of regret

And the rape that once 

Consumed me.

I am scared.

Scared of myself.

I am scared of

The ones that don't understand me or

don't like me,

The ones that are tired of me or 

are just fed up with me,

The ones that are confused about me or

Believe me to be ignorant,

The ones that don't know what I am or

why I do the things that I do. 

Me.

Fuck me.

Fuck my life.

I can't do this anymore.

I can't so this anymore.

So, I'm done. 

This moment,

My thoughts and feelings 

My addtions and divisions 

The subtraction of pieces 

Of this life.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry to everyone.

Goodbye, my sweet.

It was you.

Everyone. 

But now it's 

Me.

No one.

Post Virginity

It's on the bottle,

On the lit cigarette,

The dirty sheets 

And sweaty bodies

That are tangled

Within the emotional

Textiles and figures

That dance in the walls

With each passing car.

It's the cats piano

And the manic that follows.

It's the mouth that opens

And the sound that lingers.

The terms and conditions 

Which form when entering into

A loft that isn't yours,

But someone else's.

It's chocolates and cigarette,

Whiskey and 

Of course

A solo sunrise.