A Person Called Never

fifth of july

just past midnight

a tipsy brain turning to aching stomach

fireworks still exploding all around

the dishwasher running nearby

laughter just not as strong as it was

the smell of smoke still fresh on skin

the burn of sulfur in the eye fading

questions about where i’ll be next year same time

a gap where there should be an answer

a breath as loud as the burst

a bang through closed glass windows

the sparkles are already gone

a slight glow if you pretend hard enough

how do you prepare for a finale

when it’s already long gone

street lights turning into sun rays in smoke

a day already long gone

rain pounding down

music i wouldn’t listen to

street lights far too dim

flash

lightning

strike

my car in park

an open door

the afterglow of traffic lights

breath now exhaled

boom

thunder

blue lights tinted purple

fading into red

fading into black

the glare is all the same

hard wood under your back

noises around you

but words indistinguishable

you will never be back here

you don’t know how to say goodbye

the light hits the dust

tell me how men bite

yell at me to get up

get up

get up

call me a man

tell me how men drink

yell at me to chug

chug

chug

call me a man

tell me how men shout

yell at me to be louder

be louder

be louder

call me a man

and see how I rise to the challenge

call me a man

to avoid the horrors

or if i want to stay awake drunk

howls turn to sirens

i wonder if it’s someone i know

in my drunken stupor i forget the howl

in my sober stupor it is someone i know

so i get drunk again and listen for howls

do not let me shut my eyes

show me the world that which i do not know

let me experience pain so unbearable

i will understand the answers then

as i exist briefly among bile and acid

a reckoning will come for my soul and self

but let it be over as soon as it began

let these beginnings find their end before realization

i shall suffocate in the breath of another

as i feel my spine twist and bend

a great rush of noise defined by silence

a stink of rot and gluttony

my mouth shall fill with the same vile surrounding me

that i have to look forward to

is the possibility that i will be hungover

for the start

and the possibility that i will be drunk

to sit on the falling edge of seventeen

and realize my last days of youth

spent the same way the rest were lived

quiet and indecisive

everything chosen for me

days spent alone

a candle without a cake

not because i don’t have preferences

or because i love the silence

or because i hate cake

but because i thought that was childhood

and those were the things i was supposed to want

i want people to care

but how do you change the foundation of a building

oh how it carves out the darkness

running sweet like honey over shadow

a painting made to be fake

come alive in my eyes

i will tell the world of what i saw

the real people who walk on land

and they will not listen to me

but i have seen a new planet

lit by a new star

shielded by new clouds

lined with new trees

it sounds like the alarms that once rang

the ones i only know from videos

where they told us bombs were rain

i am happy i am in the basement

because that’s the safest place to be

where it’s cold and frozen and silent

where the bombs couldn’t get to me

i hear the coyote howl outside

and i wonder if i should wake

i wonder if i should tell everyone to hide

if when these skipped meals pay off

when I’m skinny enough to be loved

when my waist is small enough to be held

my legs small enough to be grabbed

my arms small enough to be wrapped around

my body small enough to be touched

my cheeks hollow enough to be kissed

if it’ll be even better through them

all the wonders I have skipped

made even more wonderful trapped between teeth

stuck under the tongue

lingering on breath

a full meal I only saw

finally igniting my tastebuds

as my hunger pulls me in

maybe I will be describe as ravenous in my love

the unsung song of my stomach guiding me

maybe it’ll be even sweeter

tasting the sugar through a lover

or maybe

I’ll learn to dodge their mouth like a meal

realizing the calories of a kiss

the carbs in their teeth

the fats on their tongue

the weight on their breath

the sugar of my lover

each taste one even deeper

saliva and syrup become one in the same

the sexuality of eating

the gluttony of sex

how many calories do you carry my dear

in your moth

your teeth

your tongue

your throat

what’s one serving size

for your words

your kiss

your touch

your love

I starve myself in the day

a monk among men

a nun in her habit

a skeleton created through celibacy

so that

when I come home to you

a meal or more skipped

what does it really matter

for if that’s what brings me love

than I will sit there

tasting the sweetness of everything I gave up

through the mouth of another

as I try to figure out

my parents ask why

I say just cause

they don’t understand that

in about a year

you will all go from my best friends

to people I used to know

and none of us will have chose this

but it will be true nonetheless

and we will not talk

except on special occasions

like 21st birthdays

weddings

divorces

births

and deaths

and we all know it

though none of us say it

so that is why

without hesitation or annoyance

I offer to drive

because in about a year

these moments

there’s noise but nothing alive

just the machines

and the slight movement of breath dwindling

they all say it will get better

after this

after that

it will get better

but it hasn’t yet

and the wait has been so long

when does it get better

lying on their pedestal

they say soon

but there’s a tilt in their voice

and it’s not true

because how can it get better

all the bad experiences will continue perpetually

and the good will only begin to diminish

and they know things don’t get better

and they say it anyways

so that when blood pools out

they can say they tried

as they see a breathless body carted away

they can look at it with sadness

I spiral not about the cut

but about what got in

I need to see the blood

to know I am real

but all I have is an old razor blade

and my own disgusting fingers

the chance of infection seems high

but I have no choice

I need to see the tearing of flesh

and the risk of the world getting in

is one I’m willing to take

I rationalize to myself in the darkness

as I let the ruinous things in