impromptu photobooth photoshoot 

Broken hearts are fickle things.

Our memories can be counted on less than one hand,

You don’t even know my favorite color,

You never bothered to ask.

Days, and years came then went in silence,

I do not know how to talk to you.

Are you collecting abandoned families?

Adding us to your list of things to not be touched.

Looked at, never loved.

Did you need another tense living room?

Disappointed child?

Have you ever vomited into a rusty dumpster?

Staggered into a bathroom? One with concrete floors, mirrors covered by graffiti?

Wondered how you got there?

Don’t worry I have too.

On the nights when the moon is full and your heart is heavy you can find me perched on a patio table - beer in hand, I’ve got stories to tell.

It’s okay - we can go on this journey together.

In places like these everyone is our friend. After all who else will guide us?

Sweaty hands, slurred speech, crooked smiles.

We are ugly, broken promises , shattered bones.

There is a reason the mirrors are covered - we are not equipped for society

us hideous mistaken, us wounded, vomiting in paint covered toilets,

Grotesque and mistaken.

i’m glad i never started smoking cigarettes, with every American Spirit lit the words do as i say not as i do wiggled its way around the smoke and out their lips every burnt end a lesson to be better

if only i’d watched them drink, watched them smoke weed, watched them drop acid, because i’m downing shots like i’m made of whiskey   i’m burning joints like i’m dying maybe i am dying. rotting from the inside out. shaking and hungry. slowly letting my liver fall into disrepair.

I am sad to announce that this letter will never reach you.

For many years now you have slept beneath layers of black earth where my postage does not extend.

I wonder how you would feel to know that you are still alive.

Now made immortal by the words you once declared a necessity. What you once lived to do, is the reason we live still.

We have never met, but you know me, know the way my heart aches and soul yearns, the way my words are constantly lost behind my teeth.

Your words stir my very essence.

Thank you for helping me discover what I have lost.

I am still lost, you are helping my find my path. It may not be the same path you took, the same path anyone took, but it is mine nonetheless.

Thank you.

I imagine you sleeping in the Afterlife, dreaming of me, of us.

I hope my words find you, that they may stir you awake, conscious of my effort to walk, to breathe once more.

1. Drew Barrymore by SZA

2. Violet by Daniel Caesar

3. Sleazy Bed Track by The Bluetones

4. Sober II (Melodrama) by Lorde

5. Bloo by Zack Villere

6. I Don’t Disappoint by Jay Park

7. Feature by Jay Park 

8. Part Heart by Kate Nash

9. BLEACH by BROCKHAMPTON

10. gold (feat. Dean) by offonoff

I’m glad I never started smoking cigarettes, after spending twenty years watching them rule my parents lives,

my friends lives,

my partners lives,

i learned my lesson.

how if only i’d watched them drink, watched them smoke weed, watched them drop acid, because i’m downing shots like i’m made of whiskey and  i’m burning joints like i’m dying,

maybe i am dying,

rotting from the inside out.

slowly letting my liver fall into disrepair. smoking enough to fill an entire apartment with the evidence of our entertainment.

i’ve been so high i met god, and seen enough phantasmal sights i’ll never be the same.