Warning: This work has been rated 16+.
boredom seeps through the second hand smoke i breathe
from my mother's gas station cigarettes.
loneliness sneaks up on me when i look out an open window
in the middle of winter and think about dying.
i'm not the same kid i used to be.
small midwestern dreams
can't save me from the ghosts of everything i didn't do
or every other fucked-up kid i didn't say hi to
but i was made to outgrow you.
i'm drifting through these sterile subdivisions
high school bathrooms
and grocery carts.
i'm spilling the universe from the cracks in my head
and a thousand stars cut the inside of my mouth
when i try to find the right words to speak.
my spirit is getting weak but i'll
still raise my tiny fists to
shatter open heaven
for the promise of something better.
i think of how my body will look after sex and when i'm dead
with my legs spread
to let the sun in.
i am weightless and i am warm
and my skin is made of clouds.
i feel nervous and open
and my lungs are full of doubt.