Uncertainty

The only one who knows all my secrets is my computer.

I have a hard time describing the way I feel. It's usually something like depressed, completely lost, want to break something, or deliriously immature. I'm not sure these are emotions.

The moment I'm forced to stop tearing skin from my own cuticles for you to touch my hand I forget who I am pretending to be and who I really am and I am not always sure what the difference is. I'd just like to continue slowly making myself into a pile of dust and not have the focus of your eyes on me, burning me as I'm dreaming of silence. I always thought of heaven as flying somewhere above the clouds, soft and weightless.

I twitch when I imagine your hand touching my back, but I long for you to touch me so I can start forgetting your touch, or something.

In my head, about half the time I'm thinking, "smash your skull. smash your skull. smash your skull. smash your skull. smash your skull. smash your skull."

Sometimes I feel like I'm melting. Or collapsing.

I can't explain but I feel like pulling my knees to my chest and putting my hood on and just falling into myself. It's like looking at photographs that I'm not in, cringing to think of what my face would look like if I were in the picture.

I don't know. My teeth are so worn down I might be partially cutting my gums open at night because it's not the first time I woke up with blood in my mouth.

"Christmas is for dicks"

I just googled that and nothing came up

Friends?

Our ability to

form lasting friendships

is a function

of our ability

to comfortably

and truthfully

mock each other

X-ray

I want to get an x-ray of my face

but I'm scared

of the radiation

Still,

I get the feeling something is broken

my teeth are fucked

or my sinuses are swollen

I need to see the proof

my bones reflecting the

waves of energy

my tissues, absorbing them

painting a perfect

natural picture

in black and white

but instead of being overwhelmed,

I forget to do

anything at all

Repeater + 3 Songs

I never told you this

at all but

I bought a CD

on the night

I lost my virginity

and I never listened to it

until now.

It's punk rock

like whiskey shots

and really

I'm still a kid

asking you to hold my hand

across the street

and I can't seem

to keep a straight face

anymore

when you reach for me

and I yell

"Not it!"

and run away

and then

probably trip

and fall

and rip the skin on my palms

it's cool though

closed eyes

Kneeling at your coffee table

arms flat, wrists up

I put my head down

and shut my eyes

and slowly you move your palms

and fingers

over my forearms

I exhale deeply

and there seems to be water

running down my spine

but its just

our combined exhalations

shaking the air of the room

gently waking me

as light fills my closed eyes

I was clutching at something today

right in my center

there is a black

tangled ball

of string

if you look closely

the threads are

made of tuning forks

and mysteriously

and inconsistently

their resonance

warms my insides

but sometimes

when they are soaked in liquor

they swell and expand

until I feel the pressure

in my stomach

and I think

I have to do something

or else I'm going to die

but what I never realize

is that death was not an option

it's automatic and unchosen

like being born or

shitting your pants after

slurring your dying words

and you were never a part

of the negotiations

excuse me

while I go

someplace quieter

to punch my head

like the smile

that pulls at the corners of my mouth

when I picture myself

having a panic attack

the kind where you can't breathe