904

people // rather we’d forget
classes // think we’ll drop
old ideas // taste the same

over correction
over corrected my correction

childhood lust // kill it
or mine it for work

what’s a poem scheme anyway?

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friends with commitments
friends with love dreams
friends with throwaway fucks

I can’t stand to be around
without a drink in my mitts
(too much French noir)

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my pride and I are building
a new home to burn down
(in a few weeks)
so
I can build a new home
with regret
and my own spit
on those damn ashes

my therapist thinks
I’m brilliant
and asks if I drink
before I come in

one of us is a liar

she doesn’t compliment
thank god

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my sister started smoking
to “feel how I feel”
but I’m a fool
that likes to be
unhappy more than I like
a cigarette in the morning
or a nightcap
or my mirror

here’s to you, Kristen

if you’re reading these
and you can make sense of them
stop smoking
and
I’ll pretend I’ll do the same
and
I’ll even pretend
we have the same parents

she has a dog,
a man
that love her

I get drunk
and yell at people
from my porch

I should get a dog

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I’m naming this poem
I’m going to print it out
and eat it for lunch