Jay Skinner – Virginia Commonwealth University.
Too done up
stuck between sleep and hunger
hollow rest, restless slumber
freezing fevers, drugged headaches
vomiting water, yawns when he wakes
sunken black eyes, visible bones
two empty pockets and a life on loan
scarlet insides, smoke in my lungs
killing myself slowly, what could be more fun
clumps of stringy hair
in cramped, sweaty fists
rain clouded mind and my veins full of shit
eyes barely open
falling down a well
maybe the harsh impact
will break me from this spell
Drinking Fortys Behind 7/11 and staring at the front steps of the Jefferson
(To Paris, #6)
The ice in your ears says you’re too good for a kid with a goofy grin dripping mischief
but if
staying up late enough to hear the birds sing
is your thing,
then we’re two of a kind
and if you’ve ever had the feeling of a dirty conscience
then you can imagine the bite of cold steel against your wrists with three
officers to a shoulder and you might know about peanut butter for every meal
and about a body that sleeps best on couches
cuz I always need to feel like I’m leaning towards something
Sunday Morning (Nothing Feels the Same)
I had a dream I was doing handstands for you.
I’ve been meaning to tell you I love you
since you stepped out of the cold on Halloween
and you hugged me
and I held you while you shivered
and I knew I was there to protect you
and now it seems like that was
the only time I could have said it
and each day you become more
of a different person
Does everything turn grey with time?
or just past love
love grown stale
I had another dream about you,
But I know it doesn’t mean anything
as·so·nance (n.) 