The delusions of youth slip away slip away dripping like a dog's wet tongue into yesterdays months soggy soot.

Table Talk

"I wonder what dying is like..." she said with intention of rection, an attention she felt was deserved yet leaking out the sides and pouring down the garbage filled gutter, the love rotting drain.
"I don't think its like anything, really.", He mumbled and signed, fidgeting, uncomfortable and unsure of the tone in his lackluster voice, in monotonously re-hashing a conversation had with too many other sob stories and basket cases in their dirty rat race of a city. He looked down at the menu. She looked down too biting hard on her protruding lip, welling up with tears the size of the rain droplets that were globing down the rusted window pane and smearing the candlelight reflection of their distant faces within the glass.
"Yeah, you're probably right", She uttered with a whimpering breath and once again bit down on her lip now turning a redder shade of rose. Breathless, he stared at that rosy lip and briefly imagined her hips before being seduced back by her sadness and his daring to care.
"Sometimes I think about it. I think about if I died what would happen to the girl I'm with, would she start dating right away? Or what things my family and friends would say and remember about me. Or I worry I could die without accomplishing my dreams." She intently listened as he spoke, unable to look him straight. Slouching, curling with hair falling over her face, she kept focused on the napkin continuously being folded, the foggy glass of wine, the foaming beer, the flicker of fire atop melted wax, and the worn out wood where others had intertwined their hands like a puzzle waiting to snap apart. "But then I realize", he went on "death is probably just a black hole. Nothing. The end. So, there would be no reason or worry, no reason to care because you simply wouldn't be able to."
"Sounds kind of appealing..." She smirked with tears still on the edge of falling into every part of their surroundings still pulling his head and heart into her crooked mind. "Getting rid of all your worries, all you care about... It sounds kind of appealing".

IS

Is a suitcase of belongings longing for a place on your shelf on the road to happiness not enjoying the happiness that is the trip, tripping on my feet are numb, tingling senses, lack of direction directed into oblivion and black lights breaking the sun out of day into night. Run run run run to nothing from something you cared about.
Is talking in your sleep...
Is another broken to be broken...
Is waiting for the savannah starlight to come pick her up...
Is in the darkness of my night and in the brightness of my day...
Is a dancing queen, machine, fiend...
Is always last call in a nowhere town...
Is a heart shaped face in a china dolls race at a rats pace, sad eyes, crooked lies to match her nose her odd cheekbones...
Is beautiful and ugly and charmed...

Sink

We die until the day we're born again into open bloodied heart, mixed up broken part, love lost lusting after muddied art. You paint me puddles in the ground with your lips your tongue your sounds. Sinking over and over and over again. Sinking over and over again. A kitchen sink, nothing to drink. Dry and try and oh my oh my. Dry and try. Dying day in and out day in and out, in and out. Day in. Day out until we're born again into open bloodied heart, mixed up broken part, love lost lusting after muddied art.

You made a devil in my heart.

I am lucky, like the grinning siamese cat, chased out of the night as it cracks. Love follows me haunts and taunts me, hovers on my back, breaking on my neck breathing words from a boy I once met.