I had not thought my face would ever
seek the sanctuary of my hands,
but there it was,
not bowed in grief,
not merely mourning
the life unlived,
the love deferred by fear,
but wrecked by something else:
the animal heat
of language gone rancid,
the static hiss of what I said
when the body was full
and the soul was not watching.

I remembered, yes, remembered
that there was once a chance
for tenderness to grow untainted,
if only I had spoken
with less theatre,
more skin.

And now, this morning,
the carcass of words
I do not recall releasing
lies curled in green bubbles,
sweat-slicked commands,
the syntax of a stranger
panting in my name.

I read them once,
and again,
then never.

There is a violence in revision.
There is no such thing
as un-saying.

And so, palms;
these awkward altars
receive my penitent skull,
not to hide
but to listen
to what silence might have said
had I let it speak first.

you held my hand as we were intertwined
drunk of alcohol and each other
I smiled with your lips against mine
your heart was beating so fast under my palm
your hands explored places not even I knew were there....
it tickled the way you'd pull me close by the waist
I wanted to stay tucked between your arms for eternity
but the sun started to rise
I pried myself out of your arms kissed your lips and said goodbye....

It’s not my fault
Is what I’m trying really hard to believe.
But you are the sweetest
So how can someone like you do this to me.o

It’s not my fault,
I keep telling myself.
I was ******* drunk,
You shouldn’t have take my yes legitimate.

It’s not my fault,
It’s hard to believe you would take advantage like that.
I’m usually the problem .
But it wasn’t mine this once.

It’s not my fault,
You should have know better,
I think you did.
You just knew I would never allow this sober.

It’s not my fault
you jumped at my “yes”
Then had the nerve to say the next day
I would never without consent.

I’m trying so hard to quiet that voice,
Keep repeating to myself,
It’s not my fault,
But I think it’s my fault.

Here I am laying on the floor,
Locked all the doors.
I cut and drank,
The ship already sank.

I’ll do it again,
I feel so **** shaken.
Hurting and numb all over,
It would be worse if I was sober.

When they call me to come down,
I’ll drag myself up and wipe the frown.
Won’t be a difficult child,
To my pain, everyone is blind.

A joke was told,
With a sleight of hand —
Magic show wizardry

Chests flare like a puff of smoke
Exhaled from lungs that broke
With no discernible direction
And rainbow flags pour out of sleeves
As the maestro gives no certain directive.

Who do fools fool
When is one fool following the fool?

A wilted rose
Crumbled inside a sweaty velvet hat
Where a dead rabbit lies dormant

"Abba Cadaver!"

Silly little cottontail
Didn’t you read the advert?
Tricks are for kids!

This magician makes spirits disappear
Like a seance with his liver,
Voices speaking loudly
The ethanol cleanses sorrow from the proud
When he goes to bow to a one-man crowd.

Hold court with a disappearing act
One can see the card drop below the white glove
But ignorance is bliss, like cotton candy after a meal missed
And ******, I came to see a magic show!

A dove appears in the form of a crow
Painted white and dead as winter snow
Stiff upon the ground, he swears it’s flying.

Just another deluded drunk,
Down the pail, and dying.

Another bottle down,
Hoping it can distort truth
Maybe if the mirror’s fogged, it can’t reflect
Can’t show him the middle-aged wreck.

Another chug of warm swill,
Hops molded, no bubbles, flat
Looking at baby pictures and a bag of teeth
Mummy left them, he feels the pain in his jaw
Maybe with another swig, he’ll be rid of it all.

Father watches from his sick bed,
Colostomy bag overflowing,
The excrement covers the scent of shame
As eyes barely raise to see his progeny

No he’s clicking the button to call the morphine
Drips entering to send him to a new dream,
Unable to stand the sight of his kindred,
As the boy that became a man, indigent.

Bryan takes another swig of clotted wine
A Merlot collecting dust upon his desk,
The keyboard is crusted over, white film, flaky
As he tends to his perversions, hoping a spark can awaken

On here he can be anyone,
But his lungs fail to inflate fully
And the liver shrivels to a freeze-dried remnant,
It’s only been minutes, but he shakes
Begging with forgiveness
Needing something to wash down the pittance
One more swig’ll do her!
Another drink to soothe.

As father watches on,
Glazed eyes and singing Aussie songs
He’s ******* post the catheter bag
Flowing yellow rivers down his bedside

Dreams fill his head,
Hoping Bryan dies,
So he could mend and heal,
Watching as he sips forever,
With jaundiced, glassed-over eyes.

If he could write it,
Or murmur sound
He’d say he was disappointed
But all he does is frown

While Bryan,
Consumed with trauma
Caught in his self-made prisons
Drowns in a sea of sick
And cheap bourbon.

Forever a child in a man’s husk
Daddy’s little burden.

I am so drunk
On the bottle named Us
I want to repeat it all
By drowning in the thoughts of you

I want to get washed away
From the pain, the truth
I want to feel that numbness
Chug it all away with that filthy juice

I am stumbling and stuttering
I am a mess, a slouch, an addict
Waiting for a refill
Another cup of memories, please

I laughed, I shouted, I cried
Belligerent in the eyes of others
As I'm lost in only yours
Passing out alone 

The bottle emptied again
Not a drop of love left
And as I sober up, I realize
I am still hungover for you