They teach us

"Don't do drugs"

In school.

But why don't they ever teach you

Not to need them in the first place?

I'm only fifteen

And already I crave

The carelessness that comes with alcohol and the

Buzz of mary jane

No, I've never tried them

But that doesn't mean a kid can't dream

Of a better tomorrow,

A better today,

A better yesterday.

I needed this yesterday.

I needed an escape from this hideous hell of a life.

I won't-

Scratch that,

I can't…

Make it to the end.

It's not worth my time, effort

Or the pain.

hand over hand over heart

watch just watch as I slip apart

sinking and winking

clinking and drinking

running my hands through you

running water

sitting glue

hold on hold me hold on

hanging and hinging

starving and binging

I have lived life with a high tolerance for pain and I wonder what it would be like if I felt it all

what it would be like if I let myself fall

but I haven't the time to slip

slip slap slop drop drip drop tick tock

I wish to take myself apart and put myself back together again in hope of fixing the perpetual ache of my engine but I can't quite find any edges to pry apart

there are cracks in my sanity but no matter how deep my fingernails dig there is nothing beneath my skin but honeycomb and cotton

forget forget forgotten

undo me and discover the things buried beneath layers of denial

empty epiphany entity eloise

I dreamed a dream

sinking slipping sipping drunk sunk fuck

spilling secrets with my own ears plugged

I'm not asking for a savior I'm not asking for a favor I just wish you wanted to

I can do just fine on my own

I don't feel any pain

and I'm damn good at walking away

I think what hurts the worst is the way you knew me

every scar every secret every crevice I hid my dreams in

and when you cut me down to size

you couldn't help but realize

that you weren't the first to take your fist to my face

that you weren't the first to twist my wrist

that you weren't the first to inflict

the kind of pain that doesn't fade with time

you healed my wounds and so you knew exactly what scabs to pick you knew exactly what makes me tick and how to bust me open

I showed you every weakness every loose thread and when you were done you tugged and tugged and here I am

undone

you knew what you were doing you know what you've done

and here you are with upturned palms whispering lies like

"I didn't mean to"

"I'm sorry"

"let's restart"

and I'm melting because all my skin remembers is the way you sewed me back together the way you held me like a cast til I healed

but my mind knows better and it's all I can do not to sink to my knees in defeat

you were my last chance

my final stand

reluctant trust

and here I am right back where I started

but worse off because you knew

you knew me

In bed with my wife, I joked, "You know I love so much."

"How much?" she played along.

"How do I count the ways? Well, number 1001: I love you for your beautiful brown eyes.

"That's easy." she smirked.

"Number 837: I love you for the way you ran around the parking lot after you got your new sneakers at REI. Number 529: I love you for that way you say my name, the vocal inflection you use. Number 997,"...and so it went, until she smiled and laughed; and we fell asleep together.

And when I saw she was having a trying day, "You know how much I love you?

"How much? she brightened.

"Number 998: I love you for no reason at all. Number 83: I love you for your son. Number 7: I love you for the way you laugh when I say that word. Should I say it?"

"What word?" She inquired hesitantly.

"Goofball." I smiled.

And she laughed and laughed like she was drunk with joy. Then we climbed the stairs. I followed her and playfully slapped her behind.

And one tense afternoon, "You know how much I love you?"

"Oh boy," she rolled her eyes.

"Number 367: I love you for the soul you are in this life. Number 746: I love you for the the way you sing that song by Richard Clayderman (that I did not like but came to adore because she did.) Number 111: The way you feel when I have my arms around you when we take our afternoon naps together. Number: 27..., and so it went until I felt stymied and embarrassed because this time I could not think of another thing to say.

It was a gift, a running joke, an expression of my love for her, and a reminder to myself to keep going deep inside and realize all the ways I appreciate this beautiful ancient being who chose to be with me for awhile.

i tilt my head back

and watch as the sky spins.

i hear metal groaning

and see

blue and

tinted white

lights flashing;

i imagine i'm going

faster than these rusted

seats could take me.

and i think to myself

through the children

screaming,

the drunkards

heaving,

and insignificance

grumbling about

the chill of rain,

if this is a glimpse

of the rest of my life

i just might

stick around

for another night.

I stood with my heart between my knees and my lungs up between my eyes and I gasped for a breath of legitimacy I grasped for a guess at infinity and I recognize it wasn't wise but foresight was never defined with clarity and looking back I realize that exhales have always been guaranteed while it's inhales I've taken for granted

feet planted

pounding

prodding

pupating

I stood there and sighed at the sky

I did not move until the wind

tripped me

toppled me

tumbled me

down

my own

ravine

my stomach drops,

my throat tightens,

my heart quickens,

my eyes swell,

every time

i hear your name.

is it because of regret?

knowing that something

could have been,

and thinking that

something,

anything,

should have been.

is it because of embarrassment?

resenting the words

i expressed to you;

the completely vulnerable

moments

filled with honesty

and passion,

and wondering

if you do, too.

is it because of fear?

dreading the look of

disappointment

and anguish

hidden behind

your dark eyes.

convincing me

more and more

every time

that i never meant

anything to you.

or is it because

despite the "what-could-have-beens," embarrassments, and the "never-good-enough-to-make-you-stay" resentments,

i still fall for you,

and i don't know

why?

You peel off my skin

Piece by piece

Hoping that you will make me scream,

Make me feel something.

But I will not give you that pleasure.

I will not give you my soul.

I have my ways

Of staying bottled up,

Pretending that I am satisfied,

That I have had enough.

This was never love,

My dear.

This was just a little something

To distract me from my past.

This was never love,

My dear..

This was never meant to last

-AshleyAnne

Walking fast, far and wide

Driving big new fancy rides

Speaking loud, tapping phones

Tinted view of the world

Behind dark framed sunglasses

Tainted with pre-conceived notions

Indifferent glances cast aside

Eye brows raised at lips that sigh

Hands waved rudely at those empty

Refusal freely given,

Acceptance strictly denied

To the little kid, barely dressed

Right next to his parents, always stressed

Their baby's cries, hardly empathized

A family of out casts, who've stretched their hands

Right from the beginning of their time

Stiff arms pale in comparison

To trembling bodies

Echoing stomachs, hollowness personified

The only dream they've ever dreamed

Is having enough, dare say more

To feed their tormented bellies,

To water their parched minds,

To wash the squalor away from their lives,

A dream that someone, someday

Will not look right past their screaming eyes

And will instead,

See the destruction within,

Thrust sustenance upon

Their bare, stripped arms.

Such dreams rarely materialize

Theirs is a story of scarred hearts

Mocked by tantalizing alms

That merely walk past them, never near enough

For no matter how far they stretch,

Their palms will be scorched by the sun

And will be left to shiver each night

Empty forever, until they die