but for the grace of god

i went whisper walking,

saw trees with tongues for leaves,

saw your name in neon lights carved across the trunk

outside my two-flat on wrightwood.

i never meant those things i pressed between lines, you know,

like cheat sheets I made for years before our laugh track life started up

you make me move, and I was never a mountain to you

i had a dream we met on the western bus south

you kept saying we could have til next winter

but you already pointed out the nearest exits for the fire in your belly

i get it now

i don’t meet girls i wanna marry no more

since i saw it was

just scooping lines off her palm.

with my own box in the attic, we acted

as if this was normal:

we never got normal, though, why don’t you see

that every backup keeps an address and someday I

have accepted she’ll go away

and you will be dealt to to love with the face that I know

what that

when i was five i put a sparkler in my mouth

not for the mythos

for the mistake

i still feel you inside of me

middle school sneaking

barely masquerading to a studio audience

who the fuck feels things

i am necessary in their devolvement

hero of horrors cause we make this world our hell

when the hell was it less about you

and more about me, though

it’s hard to admit you’re a wicker man

i’m a wet blanket

this is a poem with no lies,

that’s how you can tell.


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