High Poetry

You're kind of like a blunt:

each time you come around

you're a bit smaller

and I am 

more in my head.

It's funny how 

when I am high

the most insignificant 

tapping of your 

impatient fingers

rings in my ears.

You've been waiting for me

to be nothing -

I have been waiting for you

to be more.  

Kicking and Screaming

I have been waiting 

for the other shoe

to drop

and it has been taking 

too damn long

so I will kick with force

until it all falls

and we are the nothing

I already knew us to be. 

Regret

I smell like regret 

and it won't shower off. 

This scent like cheap 

alcohol the morning after

lingers against 

the goosebumps rising

across my skin

and I wonder which 

is more the sin:

the deed or thinking

of you afterwards. 

Monsters

I wonder

if the monsters

in our closets

will get along. 

How long

do we keep 

them separate

before we 

separate

or one of them

destroys the other? 

Revolving Door

You pass through

and sometimes 

go around again 

like a kid enjoying

the experience

but eventually 

you will exit

like the rest

and when I am 

not being used

I am worthless. 

First Love Affair

He freckled soft

white sand across

his island skin and asked

Have you ever 

been in love?

like it was an invite. 

I declined

to answer with a smirk

instead lifting his hand

to my face to breathe

in the beach 

that contrasted

all my clouds. 

Children and Their Toys

You rattle me 

over and over 

listening to me 

shake inside out 

and something about

the movement gives

me hope even though

I am no more 

than entertainment

to be hand me downed 

to another boy 

unappreciative of the way

I move like something 

inside is broken.