Warning

This is writing from after I stopped using. But that doesn't mean that the content got any less spooky. They're hard to read sometimes and can grossly romanticize or deeply account drug use. Be warned.

Dope Don't Exist No More

Dope don't exist no more

I never forget the keys to my door

no telltale heart beneath my floor.

I don't really recognize this

Quiet friday nights and regular piss

I've been doing it longer than not

but it's like my body longs for the cot.

Morissey said 'who controls who'

and look I think it's like two

separate guys

when you get old, one dies.

Doctor calls it self sabotage

but I think it's camoflage

cause if I keep movin

no one can really see me.

Even those who I know love me.

I just can't sit still

when I do I get this chill

of white fences and boring expenses.

I wish i could be a woman

I wish I could be a woman

I really really do

sometimes I cry to sleep at night

wondering with all my might

If maybe I'm wrong.

I like all the women's songs

I like to feel pretty in a thong.

So why can't I be a woman.

Please just let me be a woman.

It's what everyone wants of me

I wonder, when they look at me, what do they see

Do they see a woman?

Probably.

But I can't.

Why can't I see what they see?

Why do I have to be...

This?

People ask me why I can't just be a woman

And I can't answer them because I don't know

It doesn't feel right

And it doesn't seem like

I'll ever know why.

I wasn't meant to be a woman.

And sometimes I earnestly want to die.

How do I know?

How do I know what's my fault?

Folks opened my head and scrambled it

Told me I couldn't handle it

Told me sugar was salt

And I ate that sweet dinner

Told me summer was winter

So I made snow cream from dry sand

Brain in the palm of the world's hand.

I don't trust myself to know anything

I waited for something you wouldn't bring

And when you never showed

And when it never snowed

I started to wonder about reality

As I stirred sodium into my morning tea.

You could tell my the sky's green

And I'd smile and say 'what do you mean?'

But file it away as fact.

Because you told me the sky's green

And I don't know what anything means

Because everyone stole my brain from me.

You all tell me what I know, what I don't

And you won, and I hope

That you tell me sweet truths,

Because all I know, I know from you.

BBD

Boost buy do, boost buy do

My actions are not my own

But I bought them on the phone.

A cordyceps of euphoria

Convinced there's nothing better for ya

Boost buy do, boost buy do

These objects aren't my own

But I don't have a home

And I don't respect property

So what the fuck is stopping me.

Boost buy do, boost buy do

And they say wishes don't come true.

Met me when I was you.

Now my veins ache and my brain shakes

Because it was kept steady

By that shit that wed me

And made my actions not my own

And made me not have a home

But I don't respect property

So the stealing of my dead body

Is of no consequence to me.

Malin Goetz Cannabis

When I was using I wore Malin Goetz Cannabis

I dubiously sourced it from a fancy drug store.

They followed me round as I walked in the door.

I wore Malin Goetz Cannabis on some of the worst days of my life.

The heatwave in 2018, stuffy and stuck.

We couldn't move, couldn't fuck.

We were sick, had run out of stuff.

But I smelled like expensive spice and greenery,

While I shit myself in Duane Reade.

I wore Malin Goetz Cannabis when I shot up the first time.

Someone else's brown leather belt hugging my arm,

1980s toilet cover for charm,

What could be the harm,

Blood shoots up like red yarn.

But I smelled like rich weed and cinnamon

When I gave myself a needle addiction

I miss indiana

Everyone was sad and dead.

A stagnation sits over southern indiana

A cloud of frozen goo covers my friends

They haven't changed, not much anyway

Stuck in southern indiana

I envy them - forever young in many ways,

American gothic vampires.

Still hanging on words from summer '16

Me too but in a distant way.

I chose life as they say

Renton would be disappointed.

I'll never become anointed

By the tars of the wabash valley

I was always a visitor, my heart fat.

But my spirit is close and bright to Sandborn

And I know it'll call to me like a home calls to

Pigeons

When it's dark, and I'm scared.

Bezoar

Sometimes it sits inside me

Like rocks and ropes of hair

A bezoar of poppy seeds and like idk despair

Other times it melts

Like grayscale cotton candy

And turns to swirling glitter glue

Beautiful as it can be

Usually it comforts me

Adds a couple pounds

But sometimes I can't stand

Its dry and sandy sounds

I wish it could be goopy

Viscous and without form

I wish it melted with me

Oozing and reborn

Poser

Recently I can't write.

I rest my fingers on the keys

And try to remember my stuff, my stories

But it's small fires and tumblogs from 2014

Bunk weed and unused razor blades

Shiny plastic forks and paper plates

Note true, unchewed, fake skin on-glued

I dunno these people, but I see their insides

I see them, cause I used to be them, rich and blue

But people wanted different hues

And I did too

But now folks like blue

Or think they do

But I came thru

And got true

But now folks like blue.

Hair

I don't take very lightly

To shaving and to hair.

I don't know where this came from

But really I don't care.

I saw some folks a talking

About periods, about blood.

They said "when I don't shave down there,

oh you better run."

Now my blood, it got to boiling

As it usually does.

Cause I remembered my own hair

And felt betrayed because

When I bleed onto my hazy bush

It glistens and it shines

With deepest red of pigments

And it creates these little lines,

Tree branches and new veins with crooks,

Like brush strokes on my thighs.

Reminds me of a carnivore

Face dripping and dark red.

I like to think my pussy

Is a ravenous cave of dread.

I used to call teachers mom

Most of my teachers were women

As they often are

And many took a liking to me

And my introspective jar

Of pretty words and interest

Of curiosity and with this

Liking I hung

Suspended in maternal goo

No matter how slight or untrue

If I collected only a few drops

I'd put it in a machine

Until it was a lot

I used to call my teachers mom

Because mine was twisted

Gnarled and new

And mostly I couldn't feel her

And she didn't seem true

She sounded different on the phone

She didn't smell like home

So I used to call my teachers mom

In hopes that I'd wake up

And mine would be gone

Untitled

Often it's falling

Fast and then slow

Acutely aware

Of where it's MEANT to go

But it weighs like 2 ounces

So the wind flips it and flounces

And not just the wind

Other forces too

Strange ones,

Some green, some blue.

They come from the ether

Somewhere brand new.

But they burn their edges

And tea stain their skin

And everyone believes

They're old

and inherent within.

The forces are good

At lying that is

They take and take

But convince they give

So it falls and bounces

And it skids along

Until one day

It's carried away by a song.

Grey Phillip

I used to be free

Free of pain and concern

Free of confusion and in turn

I uprooted all my life

To live for and serve my wife

We did all things in step

I loved her and I kept

My meat and goo

inside her plastic chest.

A cylinder of gore

Even smaller than before

Is the space between the bubble

And my rotten sores

I used to be free

Running alongside trains

Laughing in the rain

But all the while inside

Her plastic fleshy divide

The walls were clear

I thought I was freer

Within the confines

Of the barrel of her metal lines

She wasn't malicious

Just wanted me to live delicious

Grey Phillip promised to grant wishes

And she did

But they expire

Sometimes there is no going higher